It’s a more consistent album than his debut--for better and for worse.

["Entertainment,"] like almost all of the LP, there's heavy pop appeal for those with an ear for glistening production.

Save Rock and Roll contains some head-scratching collaborations, including link-ups with Big Sean and Courtney Love, but even those that fall relatively flat are still positive indicators that Fall Out Boy are back to having fun, stretching their legs and taking risks.

In the rural wasteland of southwestern Texas, producers Dave Sitek (of TV On The Radio fame) and Nick Launay brought life to an album that's challenging and conceptual, yet also playful and raunchy.

Don't let ["Accidental Racist"] dissuade you. Paisley still knows how to have a good time and standout singles "Southern Comfort Zone" and "Beat This Summer" continue to showcase this.

The album, which is loaded with plenty of dramatic lyrics and arrangements, closes with a truly luscious ballad which leaves the listener wanting more.

The new album finds vocalist Dave Gahan and songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Martin Gore refining some familiar sounds and trying out some new wrinkles.

If fans felt like they got to know the real Blake on the hit NBC show, they'll get another close look with this batch of songs.

There are an awful lot of ideas swimming through Comedown's 11 tracks--some familiar, others (like Casablancas' new fascination with falsetto) not so familiar.

One of the year's most anticipated pop releases is also one of the genre's weirdest--and most fully realized--efforts in ages.

Bowie and producer Tony Visconti, who helped shaped his sound in the 1970s as well as produce seven T. Rex records, have struck gold in creating a work that is modern and well-connected to the artist's fabled sonic-past.

It's an album that seemingly could have come out in 1996 just as easily as today. Even the song titles feel familiar: "Only Tomorrow," "Is This and Yes," "Nothing Is." Having said that, it's lovely.

Even those who felt lukewarm to Tegan and Sara's past few efforts should fully embrace their dazzling pop rebirth on Heartthrob, one of the best LPs of this young year.

Long.Live.A$AP may not change the game like "good kid, m.A.A.d city," but A$AP Rocky's absorbing debut is more physical in its pleasure--as in, you'll be knocking your head to some of these songs for months.

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

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

Her fifth and arguably most consistent album to date.

Rebel Soul brings [that devil (without a cause, of course)-may-care 'tude] back into the mix without sacrificing the lessons Rock learned from working with Rubin and his cadre of top-shelf session hands--only this time he applied them to the live, lived-in feel of his Twisted Brown Trucker band.

Unapologetic is Rihanna's most confident, emotionally resonant work since 2009's "Rated R.

Phillips sounds natural enough within that [Dave Matthews Band] style, more acolyte than imitator, which makes the album one of the more engaging champion debuts in the show's inconsistent history.

18 Months has a certain set of goals in its sights, and Harris (alongside an all-star roster of vocalists and co-producers) resoundingly achieves these goals.

Crystal Castles aren't as cold as they appear to be, but they are calculating--(III) is an expertly produced album that, at just nearly 40 minutes, leaves fans wanting more.

Lotus largely benefits from all the bombast--Aguilera hasn't sounded so fun and energized in years.

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

Moore spends much of his debut album, Up All Night, outlining the pleasures to be had from hot women and cold beverages.

Red is her most interesting full-length to date, but it probably won't be when all is said and done in her career.

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

Until its sequels are released, Green Day's latest should be regarded as a disposable but thoroughly enjoyable return to the band's long-deserted roots. The Cali punks are back, and it's nice to see them.

"Babel" reveals a band happy to remain entirely Mumford - although a larger, smoother Mumford, offering fresh nuances and textures while emboldened by the promise of the initial mission.

Push and Shove is a celebration of No Doubt's love for all things 80s pop and the Southern California ska scene.

The result is an album that comes on a bit strong, but has the pop pedigree to avoid any major missteps.

The Truth About Love is a peerlessly witty, endlessly melodic tour de force.

Its new studio album, Tornado, seems designed to demonstrate that stardom hasn't separated the band from the backwoods roots it famously celebrated in the song "Boondocks."

Restrained, moody and subtle. It has its big footprint moments, of course, and there's an audible ambition that gives the album a crackling if slow-burning energy.

This album is one that begs to be lived with for a long period of time, its quiet details given ample room to germinate.

"Sun" isn't as cuddly as "The Greatest," but it finds Marshall continuing to evolve as an artist in intriguing and unexpected ways.

An album that required a painstaking process to complete but sounds infinitely effortless in its pop arrangements and flicked-off soul ruminations.

No matter what Ocean's mood is on the album, the songs sound fantastic.... it's one of the best albums of the year.

Living Things" is simply a minor effort in an impressive discography, and one that should translate well to Linkin Park's live show.

The result is an album that was absolutely worth the seven-year wait, not to mention the mountain of hype atop which Apple has sat since her big comeback at SXSW in March.

Overall, Believe sinks its tendrils into the listener's brain by riding the dance music phenomenon and offering some whizz-bang production alongside Bieber's sticky-sweet singing voice.

At its best, a truly next-level soul album. One that has the warm, organic feel of R&B and deep pop hooks, but also the pulsating low-end and shimmering keyboard flourishes of EDM.

The extent of K.R.I.T.'s achievement on his proper debut can be lost in the consistency of his output, but it is a stirring triumph nonetheless.

It's one of Mayer's most diverse and exploratory albums yet, trying on a variety of different styles to accompany a set of particularly reflective and soul-searching tunes.

Trespassing continues the work of the underrated "For Your Entertainment" and allows the singer to keep unveiling his character in broad, colorful strokes.

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

"Born Villain" finds a seemingly refreshed and clear-minded Manson and his band poring through a diverse set of moods and styles in songs that cut a little deeper than the deliberate provocation of many of his previous works.

Nothing on The Wanted's debut U.S. EP comes close to "Glad You Came," but the extended play contains a number of fine-tuned melodies that could succeed the group's latest radio hit

A set of tightly crafted, richly arranged pop songs.

Picture Show should end up as one the year's most tuneful rock releases.

Those who have witnessed the group's floor-shaking live shows might be a bit disarmed by the deliberately dense and lo-fi production of "Boys & Girls."

We come to "A Wasteland Companion" with certain expectations. Happily, Ward meets them.

Blunderbuss isn't just (arguably) the best album of the year so far, it opens up a whole new world for him.

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

Producer Greg Wells (Katy Perry, OneRepublic, Adele) dresses all that [emotional complexity and angst] up with greater sonic sophistication, guiding the All-American Rejects toward a more bombastic brand of pop.

An album that could've easily come from other Mississippi River stops where horns and funk pump through the bloodstreams-Chicago, Memphis or St. Louis.

It's indeed better the second time around, no matter who's running her down.

While Jourgensen seems re-engaged with his music, he's also more disinterested than ever in the wider pop culture.

Rich organ swells and muscular horn charts mark many of the 10 tracks, with a live, off-the-floor groove that levitates.

More than anything, Wrecking Ball is a record with heart.

As comeback albums go, though, this one feels unusually natural.

How About I Be Me (And You Be You)?, is a slap-upside-the-head reminder, a collection of heartfelt confessionals, evocative insights and provocative position statements.

Many of the dozen songs achieve the kind of meatiness that the group approached tentatively on The Fray.

An old-fashioned countrypolitan album-and a really good one at that.

A playful effort that comes from an ease with pop hooks and power-pop chords, a knowledge of how to employ a steady beat.

The sparse production recalls Cohen's 1988 release, "I'm Your Man," by throwing the Canadian balladeer's ever-deepening voice and his mix of poetic flair and pitch-black humor into satisfyingly stark relief.

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

Frontman Randy Blythe still growls his guts out while his bandmates hammer away at economy-sized grooves that suggest an extreme-sports version of Southern rock.

The band fares better in a handful of frothier cuts.

You can hear the result of all those showbiz connections in the radio-ready economy of high-sheen hook bombs.

The rage gives American Capitalist a fierce potency.

Based on David Lynch's reputation, one can expect his first album to be either weird or cinematic. He delivers on both counts on Crazy Clown Time.

It all sounds sturdy and fits comfortably down the middle, more dependable than daring.

It's a well-crafted brand of meat 'n potatoes hard rock.

Cee Lo Green's pre-"Fuck You" presence on the soundtrack to "The Twilight Saga: Eclipse" last year seemed to signal an expansion of the series' indie-dominated musical brand. That opening-up continues here with tunes by hipster-rap MC Theophilus London and Green's pal Bruno Mars.

Overall, another solid effort from one of country's finest.

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.

Three albums in, Boyle sounds like she's finally arriving.

The SMiLE Sessions captures Wilson, session musicians and the Beach Boys in moments that are chaotic, loopy and remarkably in synch. It's a consistently brilliant album.

The more expansive arrangements suit McMahon's hyper-expressive singing, especially on a handful of cuts ("My Racing Thoughts," "Platform Fire") with keyboards by veteran session player Patrick Warren. But occasionally they make McMahon's songwriting feel less distinct than it has in the past.

Clearly you can take McBride--who co-wrote six of these tracks--anywhere and she'll sound just fine.

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

With Father, Son, Holy Ghost, the band has vaulted the equivalent of three albums ahead, taking the conciseness of the EP and confounding expectations.

As always, though, Streisand sings the material like it was written expressly for her, elongating phrases at will and slowing most of the tempos to a luxurious Old Hollywood crawl. What matters most? Babs' bliss.

There are certainly smiles to be had as the group grouses its way through some of the most ambitiously arranged and melodically polished tunes it has released to date.

The tilting scales of light and dark give the collection a definite creep factor and a clever complexity.

Cali Swag District's surviving members memorialize M-Bone in the artwork of The Kickback, the group's debut full-length, which was originally set for release last year through Capitol before arriving in stores independently through a distribution deal with Sony RED. That dedication is a rare glimmer of gravity on a set filled with buzzy, lightweight odes to whips ("Burn Out [Drive Fast]"), women ("I'm Freaking You") and weed ("I Don't Need Your Money").

With a career clearly on the ascent, Neon lights the way for Young's next move up.

Word to Greyson: Hold on to 13 as long as you can.

This Atlanta-based R&B crooner has utilized the extraordinary sweetness of his voice to get away with plenty of lines that would sound irredeemably sleazy coming from other singers.

Among the many Odd Future efforts already circulating on the Internet, BlackenedWhite was a wise choice for an attempted mainstream incursion: It's got enough of the outfit's deranged humor to titillate tourists (see tracks "Gunsounds" and "Deaddeputy"), but softens the edginess with a pronounced pop sensibility.

Red Hot + Rio 2 takes some time to absorb, but it's sure to tide you over until the next Red Hot compilation is released.

Gold Cobra reminds us of how much fun a tight, no-holds-barred rap-metal record can be in the right hands.

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.

Heavy Rocks arrives in the marketplace along with Attention Please, a lower-key companion album that showcases the coolly resigned singing of lead guitarist Wata. Surprised? Don't be.

It's not the challenging listening experience that such recent albums as "Orchestrion" (2010) and "The Way Up" (2005) provided, but "What's It All About" is Metheny at his most genteel.

The album is quieter and torchier than its predecessors, with the singer delivering uniformly stellar vocal performances.

The nine tracks Ronson produced on Arabia Mountain (Deerhunter's Lockett Pundt helmed two; Black Lips produced five) show he's equally adept at plundering the garage, psych and punk treasure troves.