Much like its forebear, the album's 12 tunes are tight, tidy pop-rockers, presented in her characteristic straightforward-yet-slightly-skewed manner.

While the album is fluid lyrically and musically, it's missing one thing: Monica's spunk and sass.

Lady Gaga promised her fans (perhaps a tad prematurely) that her new album would be the greatest of the decade. But even if the next nine years bring something better, we're unlikely to hear anything bigger than Born This Way.

Warrior is a pure pop album with rock influences, despite Ke$ha's attempts to make it the inverse.

The delicately crafted "Coming Home" is Maiden's most effective power ballad ever, while "The Man Who Would Be King" delivers a slice of medieval mayhem. And the jam section during the cut "Isle of Avalon" suggests a metal take on the Grateful Dead. With all that, The Final Frontier boldly goes where few metal bands have gone before.

Aside from arrangement updates and catchy synth touches, the Bird & the Bee play it straight as George fetchingly channels Hall's vocal groove.

With simple, straightforward songs that appeal to melodic sensibilities rather than rhythmic contraptions, the set is a mix of vulnerability and earnestness.

On major-label debut GO:OD AM, his third and best studio album, Miller grapples frankly with fame, addiction, recovery and the struggle to be a decent person over taut, melancholy production that channels both bleary inebriation and hard-fought optimism.

Delphic is at its best on the pop-leaning cut "Doubt" and the captivating "Halcyon," which features a cold vocal delivery and scattershot synths.

Longtime fans might raise an eyebrow at the band's songs appearing in a videogame and Microsoft ad, but commercialism remains a part of Gang of Four's lyrics more than its sound.

The country veteran's first album for Toby Keith's Show Dog label seems well-suited to Keith's manly-man worldview.

It's good, dirty fun.

The fresher feel on the Vancouver group's new set could partially be attributed to frontman Carl Newman's openness to collaborating with his peers.

The duo strays into territories of pop predictability with lines like "The music stops/And the music drops," but jj's sophomore effort is nonetheless charming and imaginative.

Omarion describes his third solo album, Ollusion, as proof that he's all grown up. But the set comes off more like a bid for street cred than maturation....But when Omarion reaches for the high notes and sticks to nuance on the aching ballad "Speedin'" and the teasing "Sweet Hangover," he shines like a seasoned star.

Thompson's newest album, Bella, is a logical follow-up to his 2008 release, offering a similar mixture of folk, country and soft rock.

There's nothing here that even the Chems themselves haven't done before, but that doesn't make the sensory thrills any less giddy.

Art Official Age isn't just the stronger of the two--it's among his most imaginative albums since the '90s.

This is Stereolab for the age of the short attention span; but if it's a swan song, it's just as representative of the band's body of work as anything in its 20-year catalog.

While nothing on Repentless reaches similar heights of mayhem, overall the album is more focused and fierce than its predecessor, 2009’s Hanneman-assisted World Painted Blood.

Muse fans will have a hard time being disappointed by "The 2nd Law," and rookies have a new perfect place to jump in.

The album, which comes in 10- and 18-track editions, sounds better on paper than in reality. But there is the odd moment-such as "Railroad to Heaven," with Solomon Burke at his God-fearing best-that rises above its creditable but decidedly rote surroundings.

Even though Crash Love isn't terribly progressive in scope and the band's '80s idolatry might one day run its course, the set is another highlight in a discography that's as consistent as it is expansive.

There are enough brains and brawn to make this an "Asylum" any head-banger would be crazy to avoid.

A phenomenally successful career as part of a duo doesn't guarantee success outside of it. But it should certainly come as no surprise that Ronnie Dunn doesn't slouch or stumble on his solo debut.

In an already impressive, multi-platinum career, Blown Away is a landmark achievement.

The pair's cryptic lyrics can get lost in the shuffle at times, but Bechtolt and Evans offer enough interesting musical ideas to keep the listener engaged.

It’s essential listening not so much for its quality--uneven, if generally high--but for the strange place it occupies in Morrissey’s discography. Not since 1991’s “Kill Uncle” has he given us anything quite so puzzling.

Sea of Cowards is even wilder, with grungier guitars ("I'm Mad," "No Horse"), greasier synths ("The Difference Between Us," "Gasoline") and funkier neo-John Bonham beats from White himself ("Jawbreaker," "Old Mary").

Displaying impressive vocal polish from outspoken frontman Scott Weiland; blazing guitar solos over tight, crunch-laden instrumentation; and grungy takes on Lennon/McCartney melodicism, STP asserts its place among seminal hard-rock chameleons.

The chemistry works as expected, even if it never exceeds, or even reaches, the sum of its artists. There's no transcendent moment here, because the project is essentially a meeting of opposites who mostly stay in their lanes.

His highly anticipated sophomore album succeeds in mixing its safer stylistic choices with its relatively bold ideas.

It sounds good on paper, but the album unfolds as an undifferentiated wash of music, without the big toothsome melodies that have lifted John's music for decades.

[2012 album, Shrines] was a fun record, like listening to Madonna at half speed with your face in a strobe light. Follow-up Another Eternity does little to expand this aesthetic, but for those who enjoy hearing top 40 pop sounds refracted through a funhouse mirror, that's probably not bad news.

Grizzly Bear contributes a typically gorgeous psych-folk incantation called "Slow Life" (with guest vocals from Beach House's Victoria Legrand), and Bon Iver's Justin Vernon duets with St. Vincent on "Roslyn," which could warm even a vampire's heart.

While it's too early to tell if The Pinkprint is a classic, it's safe to say it's her best album to date. Minaj was finally able to out-rap herself and purge issues she's struggled with in private in her most exposed fashion yet.

They never supersede the originals, but hardly suffer in comparison.

Overall, Carey's throwback vibe on Memoirs is refreshing and much welcomed.

Golden contains several songs that sound custom-made for rolling the window down and turning the volume up.... However, any Lady A disc has to contain at least a couple of heartbreaking ballads, and they don't disappoint here.

The overall sound might be slighter and less sprawling, but it's also more sharply focused.

The set may not feel as catchy as Ra Ra Riot's well-received debut, but fans should appreciate the band's musical growth.

Most important, it's big fun, whether you buy into the high concept or not.

It's similar to Pitbull's newest album, Planet Pit, which blends everything but the kitchen sink in a frenetic jumble that's facile yet unadulterated fun.

Lantern is a beautifully restrained--by HudMo standards, that is--concept album that mirrors a full day, yawning awake with palate-clearing drones and ending ecstatically in the wee hours of a club utopia.

As first impressions go, Know-It-All is a charismatic balance between dreams and reality that makes its author stick out in the most impressive way.

Throughout this quick follow-up to last year's "Something Else," Thicke reveals a side of his personality that's flashier and funnier than the Oprah-appropriate image that was cultivated with previous hits. Musically, too, he flexes an eclectic streak last heard on his underappreciated 2003 debut.

After 20-something years of rap and dance running in mostly parallel lines, Kid Sister's imagining of their intersection is fresh and unapologetically fun.

Fans will be pleased to find Alkaline Trio remembering what it's like to be itself.

On The Boy Who Knew Too Much, this Beirut-born singer comes back strong with another set of over-the-top anthems that proves no one's more entitled to inherit Freddie Mercury's glam-god crown.

The appealingly schizoid approach isn't unlike that of America's Melvins, whose 1991 song "Boris" provided the band with its name. On the new Heavy Rocks, Boris makes no effort to hem in that sound.

This is guilt-free bass bliss for a post-genre age.

Fiasco turns Food & Liquor II into one long tirade -- everything sucks and no one's going to fix it.

While Fantasia delivers a soulful, laid-back album with tinges of gospel, her distinct voice is most enjoyable when singing heartfelt ballads.

For all their diversity and maturity, these songs couldn't have been written by anyone else, and this welcome return shows that the three years since the last Bright Eyes album have been well spent.

Mostly, though, the surprisingly warm-blooded Audio, Video, Disco reveals Justice to be human after all.

Her fifth and arguably most consistent album to date.

On Music for Men, the band's devotion to being itself has finally found it a place in the mainstream.

Bingham's writing is filled with stark images and canny observations, which is evident on such tracks as "Self-Righteous Wall" and album opener "The Poet." Look for this gifted young artist's star to keep rising.

It's a quick listen, clocking in at less than 45 minutes, and the 10 tracks are laid-back--perhaps too much.

Frontman Ben Bridwell's airy vocals and cozy lyrics have stayed consistent, but the impressive production work by the band and Phil Ek places the gorgeous melodies front and center without sacrificing Band of Horses' rustic power.

By closing the song with unadorned strings, Basement Jaxx seems to be finding feeling in its new efficiency.

The new ambition found on "A Chorus of Storytellers" has led the Album Leaf to its best execution yet.

This Is... Icona Pop, like Carly Rae Jepsen's "Kiss," may someday be viewed as a full-length that included one pop masterpiece, but that underscores the delectability of the treats Icona Pop has sprinkled around that triumph.

There's a spare but exotic flavor to the 11 tracks on Die Antwoord's new album, $O$, which was first released on the Internet and now comes in a spruced-up major-label version that's noticeably polished but retains the subversive and exotic vibe of the original.

Clearly, Lambert has talent, but on Heart she's merely scratching the surface.

He can sound awkward navigating Swift’s vernacular of haters and mad love, but when he plays up his strengths--the fingerpicking and strings on “Blank Space,” or changing the “Style” lyric “James Dean daydream” to “Daydream Nation,” a nod to Sonic Youth--the universality of great songwriting shines through.

The 13-track set, produced by Jay Joyce, assures us that she's more than OK, with a still-luminous voice that can make the phone book sound like Puccini.

Majid Jordan’s best quality is its intimate feel, sounding like each song is the extension of a conversation and is to be heard by a specific set of ears.

Get ready for a set of convincing, honest music, on which the Colombian star often unabashedly professes her love for boyfriend Gerard Pique.

The album likely won't convince anyone who's already written off Best Coast, but it's a new high for a band many thought had peaked years ago.

Blake Shelton's new six-song album, Hillbilly Bone, may be a marketing and sales experiment by Warner Bros. Records, but fans of the Oklahoman artist won't be disappointed.

Ambition nods to Ross' cartoon grandiosity in "Miami Nights," where Wale details his collection of luxury goods over a jubilant horn riff. Characteristically, though, the album heads in plenty of other directions as well.

This time the quintet holed up for two months in a Northern California cabin, and the resulting collection from the idiosyncratic singer/songwriter is intimate, experimental, and ultimately accessible.

While it does have a couple of moments, much of the album sounds like he is just, filling out paperwork.

The band's classic, downtuned stomp could easily pass for an unreleased track from the "Dirt" era and is sure to keep longtime fans feeling pleasantly dystopic.

For the listener, disconnecting will be all but impossible.

It's not surprising that his first new album in five years, "Tha Funk Capital of the World," is epic in scale, from its 16 mostly woofer-shaking tracks to the generation-spanning guest list.

A natural progression from 2008 release "Sleep Through the Static," the new set features more electric guitars and a brighter, full-band sound while still bringing plenty of singalong acoustic romanticism and breezy melodies.

Jennifer Hudson has never sounded better.

Known for her past collaborations with English electronica band Zero 7 and more recently with Christina Aguilera, Australian artist Sia Furler shines bright on her own on her newest release.

Bareilles' new album was the result of unrest, but as its title suggests, she has positively embraced her dissatisfaction and subsequently grown as an artist.

Although Francis has described himself as a "low-confidence engine" since early in his career, the rapper has produced a strong and instantly relatable album with Li(f)e.

As a series of off-the-cuff side projects have shown, though, Jones' musical interests are more varied than they might appear, a fact that's demonstrated neatly on ". . . Featuring," which collects more than a dozen of her collaborations with a wide range of other acts, including Willie Nelson, Belle & Sebastian, OutKast and Foo Fighters.

While the album's softer instrumentation and thematic preoccupation with romance may initially frustrate some diehard rap fans, its silky hooks begin to sink in with repeated listens.

Currington sings that he's "not known for doing a lot," but he's certainly found a way to do something that's undeniably his own.

The 16-year-old's follow-up to last November's "My World" shrewdly elevates him from a fleeting teen phenom into an evolving pop artist.

While expanding on what it's done well, the group doesn't cease to be adventurous on LP4.

Legend, like Gunplay’s professed diet, is a potent mix of uppers, downers and hallucinogens; it makes for a weird, and weirdly satisfying, trip.

Part of the fun of The Lone Bellow is playing spot the influence: James Gang here, Staples Sisters there, Warren Zevon, Faces, lots of Crosby Stills Nash & Young. But to its credit, the band channels these icons with a commensurate amount of tact and respect.

Although the style vs. substance debate has been raging for more than 50 years along Nashville's Music Row, there's no mystery about which side Alan Jackson falls on.

Her latest release, Midwinter Graces, is a typically provocative-in the best possible way-entry in the yuletide canon.

Behind the dance bump, Communion is confessional synth-pop with a heart full of heavy feelings.

Brooks doesn't do half measures, as evident on the title track, screeching guitar-rock in which he rails against technology by referencing folklore hero John Henry, who died in a steam drill competition against a machine. But it's the dramatic tunes about love gone bad that stand out.

Goodnight Unknown is layered with subtle distortion and commanding percussion, combined with Barlow's confident, sometimes contemplative vocals.

Although MAYA is an undeniable testament to M.I.A.'s inventiveness, the album is so jam-packed with beats that any statement that she is making gets lost in translation.

Lovely moments abound, but the overall effect is less intoxicating.

Even with so many producers lending a hand, there isn't a dud to be found on the record's thirteen tracks.

Hudson links with a long tradition of powerful female vocalists making highly danceable music. And the spare templates she uses here, which are heavy on rhythm and relatively empty otherwise, give her plenty of space to flex her powerful voice.