A good amount of Demolition screams quality.

Now You Know is full of the stuff BTS fans love: angular melodies, expansive nods to prog-rock and that droning, nasally voice that makes indie-rock geeks stand up and cheer.

This time out, the beats are more energetic, the tunes feature more vocals, and there's a slightly poppier feel that makes it harder to get lost in than some of their previous, more spaced-out efforts.

This disc is filled with the kind of generic club grooves, terrible singing and general sense of aimlessness they once would have laughed off.

Combining the Verve's soul-searching themes with Radiohead's whisper-to-a-scream dynamics, Haven has come up with a weighty debut stocked with tender ballads, beautiful acoustic passages and several potential anthems.

Home is a raucous acoustic album that mows through bluegrass and traditional country with a vengeance.

Say hello to your new metal gods.

Eve-Olution dolls up her gritty hip-hop roots with propulsive pop melodies, high-gloss production and cameos from famous friends like Alicia Keys and Snoop Dogg.

There's nothing quite like the sound of a band at the top of its game.

Leto sounds more like Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan than a member of the Screen Actors Guild--even if his lyrics are kind of space-case lame.

A few Sabbath-y moments aside, a majority of the disc finds frontman Daniel Johns singing more than screaming, much to the delight of those who may have worried these guys would give up on new things.

Mann's cranky muse is consistently compelling, showcasing both her wry lyrics and terrific melodies.

Luckily, even with the changes, the Sheik mystique remains and makes this album a worthy new addition to his repertoire.

For such a dark and brooding record, Turn on the Bright Lights is also unexpectedly thrilling, coasting on jagged minor-chord guitar melodies and huge emotional swells with a ton of high points along the way.

Taylor sounds assuredly relaxed and content.

Through it all they keep it both consistent (without being same-y) and experimental (without being disorienting).

The anthemic cries for getting your crap in order are flavored with dashes of sonic experimentation and the knowledge of when to slow things down.

It's Pulp's contribution on the terrifically revealing "Sliding Through Life on Charm" that really raises a smile...and a little something else.

This bummer sounds more in league with Yanni than Moby.

Nostalgic without sounding outdated, it's one bash worth revisiting.

Keep an ear open for this solid effort's best moments: the soulful "Full Frontal Fridays" and jubilant "I Get Cravings."

It's a downer, sure, but if you've got the patience, this disc's subtle meditations have a way of working themselves into your heart.

The mellow moments define this album with "The Missing," "The Only Way (Is the Wrong Way)" and the contemplative "God Damn Me" being the main reasons to stick it out with these dudes.

Chester Bennington's anguished man-child howling is largely left on the shelf, as are the thrusting hooks that were Linkin Park's big draw.

Over the years, it might not stand up to classics such as Nebraska or The River, but the The Rising gives us something more important right now: a reason to believe.

It's okay, you can believe all of the fawning reviews you're going to read about this album. Because when still-kicking '60s soul legend Solomon Burke puts his earthy baritone to lyrics written by some of today's most critically acclaimed songwriters, it's simply magical.

The Philadelphia quartet continues to believe that barbershop harmonies, sugary ballads and New Jack Swing beats are where it's at. It ain't.

Sadly, Keith's least-clever disc yet was almost completely written by him for the first time.