The duo's collaboration on Van Lear Rose is unexpectedly gripping, a raucous slice of vintage Nashville fuelled by Lynn's down-home wisdom, twangy gee-tars and White's inspired hand at production.

Even if you think you've heard it all before, West is a winner.

[Dylan's] most cohesive work in over a decade...

It's as gripping as N.W.A.'s groundbreaking Straight Outta Compton.

It's a massive success.

Double the pleasure, double the fun? Definitely, definitely.

Okay, so it's not the most revolutionary concept album, but the raw energy and mad buzz make it one that's easy to get hooked on.

Los fans--as well as those who just love great, spicy rhythms--will quickly learn that they Canto live without this disc.

It's a welcome change to the current hard-rock juggernaut.

Throughout the disc, his attention to detail and melody stretch well beyond his 22 years.

Some tracks are as disconnected as a David Lynch film, but no one does misery like this neo-blues hollerer.

An emotionally wracked masterpiece, drawing on immaculate influences like the Pixies and Talking Heads while sounding distinctly original.

Z seems like just the beginning of a whole new phase.

Good luck trying to keep your head from spinning around like Linda Blair.

The veteran singer-songwriter has opted to retreat into old-timey blues, rattling off clichés about blind horses and hog-eyed towns while laying down a halfhearted soundtrack of brushed drums, plucked guitars and woozy strings.

Elliott keeps her sharp raps relatively slow-moving over the space-age production and allows room for the long list of guests like Ludacris, Busta Rhymes and Da Brat to shine.

Say hello to your new metal gods.

Any music snob who has ever fantasized about grafting Belle & Sebastian's deceptively sweet melodies onto Modest Mouse's angular rhythms and riffs needs look no further than the Shins.

There are plenty of throwaway tunes, and the sound quality is decidedly lo-fi, but what's most surprising about this three-CD collection is the number of good songs.

Björk's latest is as delightfully eccentric as her choice in outfits, blending scratchy electronic programming with tinkling music boxes and squeezing her formidable voice into ancient-sounding harmonies or futuristic whispers.

Exquisite, angry, sad and personal, basement is a beautiful swan song of one of this generation's best.

The Bed-Stuy boy musters up enough of his own charisma, charm and wit to build another solid release.

The Woods seems like a retreat into the '90s, playing up the grunge and angst of the band's Northwestern stomping grounds.

He gets all beautiful on your ass for the Orpheus portion of this double-disc set, then explodes with a pounding intensity on Abattoir Blues that'll knock your socks off.

Like the Streets or Dizzee Rascal, Arulpragasam's beats are minimal, but tracks such as "Pull Up the People" make use of every ounce of groove as tight, crisp synth lines backing her catchy raga delivery.

The Jaxx prove they can make this old house music exciting and new.

Even though the production is slicker, The Dirty South is still packed with painful, well-illustrated southern gothic sagas.

Williams' captivating lyrics are gut-wrenchingly intimate.

It's the album you wish the Strokes would've made.

This disc's rich, exotic flavor gets more intense the longer you chew on it.

With Phrenology, the cool Philly troupe remain head and shoulders above the rest by sticking to their well-defined course of smoky live beats, serious lyrics, stunning guests... and not one ounce of production from the Neptunes.

You'll love it.

Conjures up an exotic, enchanting world populated with slide guitars, maracas, accordions, brass bands and late-night country crooning.

This is a fine final coda that's no tearjerker but a reminder of how much he matters right now.

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

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.

A lesson in subtlety, 10 songs of abstract musical impressions that foil today's connect-the-dots pop.

A dynamic piece of work.

If you haven't already pledged your allegiance to Radiohead, this isn't gonna turn you.

You'll be left wondering why other bands aren't so daring.

There are times when Conrad Keely's scabrous vocals are more grating than ingratiating, but this is mainly stunning stuff.

The band turns each song up to 11 and lets its rabid hometown fans provide thousand-strong backing vocals. It'll make you want to yell "Woooh!" too.

Shelve this one next to that Adam Sandler CD you haven't listened to in four years.

Combines Beach Boys harmonies, Pink Floyd-influenced orchestral rock and the lonely-heart vocal style of such '70s icons as Big Star and Neil Young.

Provides a mind-blowing nostalgic trip for those who grew up with these songs.

Songs like "First Night" and "You Can Make Him Like You" conjure up a bit of Springsteen, a bit of Westerberg and far more catchiness than they should rightfully be allowed.

Simply awesome.

Rich with melody and drama, even the band's experiments--like adapting King Crimson's "Moonchild" into the lush "M62 Song"--work.

All bluster and noise and no substance.

Unlike so many other cut-and-paste experiments, this actually sounds like music and not a clever science project.

Fans of the Icelandic wonder's more orchestral tunes might think there's something missing here. Well, unless they're too busy being totally blown away.

Indestructible feels a lot less dangerous than their previous discs.

Has a few more production touches than his past crackling work.

Veni Vidi Vicious literally explodes with frenetic guitar jangle and audacious hooks.

People will be Takk-ing about this truly amazing album for years to come.

A streamlined effort that's stylish, cool and has a sense of finality.

[The Crane Wife] not only matches past pop glories, in most cases, it tops them.

Her voice has grown huskier with age, the songs are barely there, and hip-hop producer Mike Elizondo doesn't have the delicate hand that's required to bring them to life.

One listen, and you'll be hooked on the happiness.

Simply the Flaming Lips doing what they do best, which is being beautifully weird and loving every minute of it.

Ben Gibbard has a knack for painting scenes of such intimate detail they come off as universal.

A set of really great songs.

[An] elegant mix of jazz, electronica and lush gospel choruses.

[This] downcast disc is actually an improvement on its predecessor.

The four-piece has transformed into a genuine powerhouse, blowing away any so-called new rock revolution contenders with lovely melodies and effortless intensity.

Evokes Jamiroquai, Steely Dan and Curtis Mayfield--all at the same time.

Holland gracefully achieves the spookiness and timelessness artists like Tori Amos and Cat Power have been chasing for years.

If there's a touchstone band for this album, it's Little Creatures-era Talking Heads cranking out songs that are joyously eccentric, celebratory and catchy.

A sprawling, varied disc that's as laid-back as a cool summer afternoon.

It's a rootsy, honest album in the simple tradition of Hank Williams and Jimmie Rodgers.

Beck's best when he's tweaking music he has a genuine interest in, giving new humor and affection to his nasty grooves.

Give it a couple of spins, and you'll find it's completely mind-blowing.

Simply great.

Instantly engaging, and totally engrossing over time.

Ultimately, it's hard to shake the feeling that something is missing.

There are some impossibly fun tunes in the mix.... But will this album really change your life? No.

It delivers the ultimate knockout--sticky R&B grooves and a heavenly falsetto that point to greats like Marvin Gaye ("Soul Sista") and Stevie Wonder ("Queen Sanity").

This set of songs comes with a chill of morbidity that's hard to shake.

Cookie drips with R&B, hip-hop, Latin grooves, experimental jazz, blues and techno tidbits for yummy multilayered goodness.

Whether the songs get a grimy edge or sweet touch, the textured album leaves Shadows as a bright spot in the singer-songwriter genre.

Get past the dark stuff and Demon Days reveals a stash of songs that are more fun than a Hong Kong Phooey marathon.

Melodically exquisite, this is a triumph of minimalism.

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.

Gorgeous and intimate, the 14 songs on her debut disc ache with romantic maturity and a smart, slow-jam sexiness that belies the fact that, at 22, Jones is hardly older than Britney.

Teeters on '80s synth cheese every now and again.

Amazing collaborations that emphasize the veteran band's rich Latin and blues roots.

What sets Silent Alarm apart, however, is the presence of singer Kele Okereke, who has a dazzlingly elastic voice like the Cure's Robert Smith.

A far more streamlined affair, songs stretch out into dreamy extended jams that make bossa nova rhythms, sizzling electronics and screeching metal guitars seem like perfectly acceptable bedfellows.

It's quite possibly his best album since 1982's Nebraska.

It is the sound of Interpol as reinterpreted by Tom Waits--a breathtaking album with bite.

Their debut drips of melancholy and swims in gorgeous sheets of incidental noise.

[It] feels more overly familiar and Velvet Underground-y than usual, which isn't a good thing for a band with such forward-thinking ideals.

Per usual, the content is clouded in misery--the kind of soft, sad and touching tracks that'll have Dido fans rediscovering this Greenwich Village adult-alternative pioneer

Even with all the drama, Construction is Elliott's sturdiest creation yet.

The songs don't always match the brouhaha surrounding their arrival, but there's no denying the exquisite craft on display.

[Will] leave White Stripes' fans divided.

As subversive as it is weird.

In essence, it's a younger, fitter and infinitely hipper version of what Moby is doing.