It's pure cotton candy for the ears, and it sounds sublime.

Instead of coming off as dilettantish, Cale instead sounds intrigued with how these new tools can enhance his music.

A masterfully crafted collection that warmly recalls the era of album-driven FM rock radio.

Man vs. Machine is an intense set that never stops.

The b-b-beat continues on Hey Hey My My Yo Yo. In fact, the songs here are more catchy, and yes, more fun.

Mr. Lucky makes up for lost time with 14 gems that showcase his sharp vocal stylings, particular brand of countrified pop music and (given his sex appeal) an equally impossible-to-believe preponderance of romantic heartbreak.

"The Joy of Sing-Sing" is an aptly-titled delight aimed straight at alt-pop partisans.

Sleeping With Ghosts is glorious; an unrepentant emotional exorcism that cohesively hurdles between the bleak and wounded, the exuberant and defiant.

"Goodbye Alice in Wonderland" returns Jewel to her folk/pop roots, serving up her usual host of poetic metaphors for lessons learned and observations on humanity.

Beware is supremely sequenced, and is possibly Oldham's finest album yet.

The Sea & Cake has dabbled in electronic grooves and Brazilian lilt throughout its seven sleek albums, but the band has never quite let it rip like it does on Car Alarm.

Proving that reunions can be a good thing, "Love Songs for Patriots" is a nice addition to this band's highly influential catalog.

[It] finds him eschewing his signature peak-hour beats and dancefloor rhythms for primarily ambient sounds—with rock and jazz flourishes.

Lidell has a fine voice, arguably one of the most potent white soul singers England has given us since Primal Scream's Bobby Gillespie.

While TVOTR now record for just another major label, their music is more distinctive than ever.

The New York quartet retains its flair for dramatic images and ominous guitar lines on its major-label debut, but with producer/ mixer Rich Costey onboard, these signatures uncoil into more complex soundscapes.

Throughout, eerie production touches (metallic clinks and synth bleeps on 'Where in This World') and organic sounds (acoustic guitars and glockenspiel on the title track) fit seamlessly to form the Notwist's most charming and complex work to date.

The album is certainly one of 2001's finest, most memorable releases. It just shouldn't be billed beyond what it is: a deliciously fun romp that draws heavily upon influences like the Velvet Underground, Television, and the Stooges.

Between the pounding pianos and the non-stop wave of arena-ready power chords and driving drums, most of "The Wolf" sets a new standard for fist-pumping anthems.

Greater than the sum of its parts.

Most of the dozen songs on Midnight Boom are driven more by looped beats. As a result, the melodies on such tracks as "Getting Down," "Cheap and Cheerful" and the hand-clapping "Sour Cherry" are framed with spare urgency, while "U.R.A. Fever" and "Alphabet Pony" boast an urban, nearly hip-hop ambience.

The My Morning Jacket frontman cackles, croons, wails, wallops and stomps through the band's fifth and latest great album.

The Irish quartet holds up its end with an album of melodically memorable and inventively arranged songs, most clocking in at more than five minutes and massaging listeners with a wash of keyboard and guitar textures.

"Ecstasy" finds 58-year-old rock poet Lou Reed characteristically fixing his gaze on messier thoughts and murkier emotions -- and doing so more artfully than at any time since his 1989 masterpiece, "New York."

This mash-up, Beatles style, is cool stuff indeed, but is even more dazzling live onstage. [25 Nov 2006]

Brighter Than Creation's Dark is one of the meanest, leanest 19-track albums you'll ever spin.

"Sounds" sounds great, alternating between driving, percussive romps like "Love Caught Up To Me," "Free To Go," and "Dreams Of Clay" and moments of sheer country perfection in "Time Spent Missing You," "A Promise You Can't Keep," and the wonderfully hangdog Hank Williams knockoff "The Heartaches Are Free."

Like British counterpart St. Etienne, Ivy deftly merges melancholic tales of the heart with happy-go-lucky beats.

"Sam's Town" is a sophisticated sonic metropolis.

On her confident fifth album, the multiplatinum hitmaker attacks her recent divorce in all styles.

This Texas rock combo returns to form on The Century of Self, with producer Chris Coady stepping in for longtime collaborator Mike McCarthy.

May not be as postcard-perfect as I Am Shelby Lynne, but it comes pretty close.

Right off the bat, you realize this is serious music for serious listeners.

Merriweather Post Pavilion is so gorgeously confident that it fulfills expectations and more.

Her hushed, velvet-smooth vocals evoke a noir yearning and forlornness, her slow-burn delivery enraptures with a torch sentimentality, and her support team shines.

The band's most challenging--and rewarding--album.

Nearly everything here is top 40 or AC radio-ready.

For his second solo studio record, the Quannum Projects godfather veers left from his sample-centric background and into something that should be highly pleasing to anyone who enjoyed hip-hop in 1988.

Throughout, Cookie crackles with intensity, be it of the sexual, political, or religious kind.

We may be more entertained at times by Rock's extramusical affairs, but the "Devil" should still be given his due as a clever and creative musical force.

The album is filled with big guitar noise and mildly incongruous but not unpleasant mixtures of modern riffs ("Rocket"), new wave basslines ("Victory at Monterey") and retro hooks and melodies ("Miss Myrtle").

The sexy, solid set is glued together by danceable beats and Minogue's knack for picking great songs and producers.

The band is now more of a collaborative project than a Jon Auer-and-Ken Stringfellow-with-hired-guns proposition, and it shows in the eloquence of the songs here.

Jason Mraz emerges even bolder than before on an album loaded with strings, horns, formidable grooves and a dozen songs dripping with mantra-like positivity.

Knowle West Boy shows that regardless of era, Tricky does his thing and does it well.

And while it is a bit less corrugated than some of its early work, it packs a bite that's far more venomous than any of the sound-alikes that continue to nip at Plaid's heels.

Lions is indeed a truer expression of the Crowes' potential: adventurous songwriting ensconced in a blues- and funk-inspired swagger.

The only problem with this crackling sampler is that it clocks in at just 34 minutes.

Snoop Dogg remains as relevant and rambunctious as ever.

A sleek machine that's practically pleading to be taken out on the highway.

Live at Shea rather remarkably captures the band conquering the soon-to-be-demolished stadium, turning the cold, sprawling space into a sweaty Brixton club.

His most accomplished song cycle to date.

Beautifully spacey and searingly brash all at once.

The band retains a certain backwoods spookiness, meaning songs like 'Many Funerals' and sci-fi lead single 'Invasion' keep their edge amidst a clutch of tunes ('Come Clean,' 'Ten Cent Blues') that resemble nothing so much as mid-period Fleetwood Mac.

Fans of Carlton's indelible white-chick anthem "A Thousand Miles," on the other hand, have plenty to be excited about, since Heroes presents another batch of appealingly wistful reflections on life and love.

The band stretches out in some new directions on the trance-y 'Washington Square' and incorporates psychedelic overtones into 'Insignificant' and 'Le Ballet d'Or.' 'You Can't Count on Me' sounds like the flip side of a Bruce Springsteen love song, and such tracks as '1492,' 'Cowboys' and 'Come Around' rock with sweeping dynamic energy.

This much more polished follow-up goes down smoother but still packs plenty of fire.

Some of its strongest work to date.

When this sixth CD opens with a cataclysm of "Transformers" noises, it signals a record that's a little more unapologetically electronic than their previous ones.

Burnett's settings are much more stripped-down than his work on Robert Plant & Alison Krauss' "Raising Sand" but no less precise: 'My All Time Doll,' one of the strongest cuts, Jeff Taylor's accordion shades the desperation in Costello's lyric with just the right amount of sarcasm.

A challenging, yet highly rewarding listen.

One by One, in all its thunderous angst and desperate expressions of hope, represents a full-on exploration of the Foos '70s influences.

An ambitious and artful set of songs.

The unlikely resurrection of the New York Dolls is solidified by this second recent album, an output that now matches in quantity and mirrors in quality their epic early-'70s sprint.

He's embodied literature's most popular archetype--the survivor--by transforming his woes into a reflective, enjoyable album.

Repeated spins also find this wonderful, soul-influenced collection to be one of slow, flowering appeal that ultimately ranks among the Glasgow septet's most rewarding efforts.

Despite undeniable similarities to other bands that arrived at this party earlier, this album lacks pretension and self-importance. [21 Jan 2006]

The roots-rock of Detours is old-school-sounding Crow now with a heightened consciousness of the world around her.

It's an intriguing, somewhat surprising collection of tunes. Oftentimes dub projects can be anchored in a recurrent groove, but Page has created a group of tracks that are quite distinctive.

The performances are so strong throughout that one can only pray this collaboration turns out to be more than a dalliance.

The 10 songs are all strong, and placed in an order that creates an emotional arc, like a real--what's that word again?--album.

Snoop Dogg's ninth album is perhaps his most progressive one to date.

Intimacy is the English dance-punk outfit's most urgent-sounding effort yet, and frontman Kele Okereke and his bandmates probably couldn't bear the thought of waiting two or three months for it to be heard.

Alone is quirky, but also an intriguing glimpse into one artist's creative process.

Without question, Stillmatic is the artist's most complete album since he debuted eight years ago with Illmatic.

Two bonus cuts, 'Till We Ain't Strangers Anymore' with Bon Jovi and 'When You Love Someone Like That' with Reba McEntire, are icing on an immensely satisfying collection.

Orton has a flair for penning languid, spacious songs whose forlorn characters seem as adrift as the music's fleeting acoustic guitar chords and absentminded piano tinkles.

A stormy and engrossing sonic stew.

[He] truly shines.

The entire package hangs together gloriously: The renditions bear the sensuous heat of Dulli's self-penned work.

These are songs riddled with illiteracy, cancer, unemployment, crime and consequence, fashioned by the brutal pen of one of the most promising American songwriters of the last decade.

A quietly ambitious effort that nudges the Shins' trademark indie pop into unexpected new directions.

Sparxxx proves he's upgraded his whip-quick flow.

This enchanting album is rife with homespun reflections on philosophy, religion and the never-ending quest for true love.

The group backs it up with a forceful sonic fusillade that recalls Disturbed's 2000 debut, "The Sickness," while doing away with some of the melodic niceties that crept into "Ten Thousand Fists" and 2002's "Believe," right down to Draiman's jungle animal vocals.

If there were any doubts about how Darius Rucker would fare in the country world, the Hootie & the Blowfish frontman puts them solidly to rest on his genre debut.

Another winner full of eerie beauty and restraint.

Rich in melody and mood, guitar and piano; it is more rock than pop.

With the addition of trumpet, trombone, and alto sax to his quartet sound, however, Frisell is on the job with a jumbo-sized sonic palette. The results, tune by tune, are as eccentric as they are intriguing.

Boomslang is the album Marr fans have been waiting a lifetime for.

Continues in [the debut's] innovative spirit, both elemental and experimental. [15 Apr 2006]

Pitch-shifting strings punctuate the background like reminders of the cinema of the past, but this Portishead doesn't wink at anything, eschewing style altogether. In our self-referential culture, an album like this is an aberration. Again.

Much has been made of the fact that Gang Gang Dance named this record after the patron saint of outcasts and rebels, but this effort shows more crossover potential than anything the act has ever done.

Between tunes Cohen recites lyrics from the next song to be performed, and these 26 tunes, delivered in his steady rumbling baritone, may have never sounded better, certainly not in one place on one special night.

Showcases Nas' incredible talent as a lyricist and social commentator.

Shaggy uses Intoxication to once again show that while he and his crew can crank out solid pop, they can match it with cuts that genuinely rock the dancehall.

Dark yet delectable, Velocifer suits Ladytron just right.

Barnes isn't so much indulgent as he is overly ambitious and seemingly out of his mind, making Skeletal Lamping as wonderfully brilliant as it is weird.