Once again, the results feel too spotty.

Taking no risks, "Nightcrawler" shows little growth and makes one wish for the morning after.

Despite having nowhere to go lyrically, he remains a remarkably potent presence.

Film-specific songs like "Make No Sense at All" and "Call the Law" fall flat out of context.

While not a completely lovable effort, "1968" extends Pajo's varied lineage.

What this channel lacks is true feeling and originality.

He talks about the fire he used to possess without rekindling those flames.

These songs simply don't stack up to their predecessors.

All the elements for a smart, catchy dance-rock album seem to be in place, but the final product still remains slightly unstructured and rehashed.

Though the album grows stronger as it lurches on, the trio's pursuit of bombast leaves the killer melodies lost in outer space.

Too often his songs fail to captivate beyond a curiosity factor.

An old-school alternative rock album full of oversized riffs and open-hearted hooks.

For greatness, look to the irresistibly melodic "Twentieth Century," the New Order-hued "Minimal" and the Diane Warren-penned ballad "Numb."

"The Return of Dr. Octagon" suffers from the classic case of "too little, too late."

Seem[s] like a missed opportunity.

Live has settled too comfortably into the skin of a middle-of-the-road rock act. [17 Jun 2006]

Many of Angel's midtempo tracks, while well-intentioned, fail to reach the lofty heights to which they aspire.

Though Milian often comes off as a third-rate Beyoncé, her feathery soprano captivates when her lyrics do not.

No one is breaking any ground here, and White fanatics looking for a new White Stripes record should temper their expectations. But as far as side projects go, this is as good as it gets.

While Dulli's bitter, drunken voice remains front and center, the backup vocals and orchestras nearly make the songs sound like a parody, marrying a beast to a beauty.

Some of the record gets bogged down in its own deliberate weirdness.

Snow Patrol suddenly sounds like a cross between Goo Goo Dolls and Train.

By abandoning the gloom and doom and embracing quirky power-pop, the Stills seem to have morphed into a less minimalist Spoon, and your replay mileage may vary based on how strongly you liked what they were doing before.

Mobb Deep often sounds like a guest at its own party.

The entire record is a disquieting trip.

"Shut Up I Am Dreaming" is a grower, and doesn't grab you by the ears like Wolf Parade's debut did.

Has its moments, but it comes across as a baby step forward.

While over-produced and quite sentimental, this is a very sweet record.