Apollo Sunshine's third album is a delightful head-scratcher that explores old and new elements of psychedelia alike, from string sections, melting organs and echoey vocals to gritty, traveling guitar lines and lyrics about love and reincarnation.

Garage rock at its finest, messiest and most welcomingly insignificant.

Singer/songwriter Inara George and producer Greg Kurstin know how to craft a pop song. On their second album as the Bird and the Bee, George (the bird) and Kurstin (the bee) continue to juxtapose tongue-in-cheek lyrics with sugary vocals and quirky electronic effects.

Easily the icon's strongest, most satisfying effort since her '78 classic "Easter," "Gung Ho" is, by turns, wistfully poetic and sharply observational.

Costello proves that all the balladry hasn't dulled his ability to rock.

Henry's superb Civilians succeeds not only as a melodic collection of poignant short stories, but also as a potent picture book of America gone wrong.

Key to the magic is the delicious harmony vocals of the unlikely duo, best-displayed on the swaying 'Killing the Blues,' given trad-country depth by steel pedal ace Greg Leisz.

District Line is a fine showcase for the differing sides of ex-Hüsker Dü/Sugar frontman Bob Mould's repertoire.

From "Project Roach," where Nas says that the NAACP's burial of "n*gger" was pointless, to "Untitled," which discusses Louis Farrakhan's role in America, the Queens MC impresses his listener while provoking social and political thought.

Twenty years after her self-titled debut, Tracy Chapman remains true to her musical calling: soul-rich folk melodies around a voice of honesty and nuance that nails ambivalence like no other.

The net result is smart, personal and potent.

Think of bubblegum produced by a garage/grunge band.

[Stone] continues to reinvent soul music, injecting a very classic sound with contemporary sass and verve.

Grohl's furious playing fits perfectly with the wall of rage erected by Joke vocalist Jaz Coleman and fellow founders Geordie Walker on guitar and Youth on bass.

Under Rubin's direction, Dylan's laid-back rasp, often laced with smoky harmonies, gains weight and texture.

His new album is not exactly like the last or the one before that, and is pleasantly surprising in its evolution.

Not known as a songwriter, Adkins has an innate ability to make a song his own, as is the case with the seemingly autobiographical 'Happy to Be Here' and the family-first 'All I Ask for Anymore.'

Not to be outdone by the generation of singers he has influenced, he raises the bar with the 19-track set.

A soul-searching set that recalls such pre-"Let's Dance" collections as Heroes and Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps).

One of her finest albums to date.

The marriage of material and performance maintains high consistency and purpose.

It's an icy blast of electro-pop that channels the genre's most quirkily beautiful moments and ups the ante with the unmistakable influence of the duo's film-scoring heroes, Vangelis and Angelo Badalamenti.

While some songs don't click ("We Ain't" featuring Eminem), "The Documentary" still shapes up as one of the best rap albums of the year thus far.

Chesney gets better with age. There are radio hits here: 'Never Wanted Nothing More' has already hit No. 1 and second single 'Don't Blink' is off to a fast start, but there's depth, too.

Luckily, [the a bland name and album title are] the most awkward things about this surprisingly rewarding collection of dusky, mesquite-flavored torch songs.

More fun and more listenable than anyone could have expected.

All sound pretty wonderful in the hands of Peyroux's stealthy, silk-draped vocals, delivered with a winning air of slightly detached mystery.

Daughtry and his band return with similar aggression on their sophomore album, Leave This Town. Daughtry's ferocious growl is still the centerpiece of the new songs, but the band has also taken a few creative risks.