It sounds like the band is trying too hard to recapture the quirk factor, and the overdose borders on annoying.

Maxwell's latest finds the steady and seductive soul-provider drawing more from the class of Marvin Gaye than the trash of R. Kelly--with a touch of spirituality thrown in.

Employment is thrilling from beginning to end, packing in 45-minutes of exuberant Britpop melodies, na-na-na choruses and buzzsaw guitars that make Franz Ferdinand look like a bunch of stiffs.

Even though he didn't use Godrich's elegant landscaping to its full advantage, we'll still listen to what this man has to say.

The music on Comfort of Strangers is at times so complex and distracting that it often overshadows Orton's winsome voice.

It's not as hands-down great as the Swedes' last (Veni Vidi Vicious), and a handful of tracks are too-short bursts of energy that only leave you wanting more. But when the band gets rolling with tracks such as "Walk Idiot Walk," there's no stopping it.

On bluesy new tracks such as "Stubborn Beast" and "Moonshiner," she conjures a sensual, serious confidence that suggests she's ready to depose Cat Power as the queen of indie teardrop ballads.

Fans and Luddites will find much to treasure when dropping this platter on the Victrola.

It's the kind of album that finds its own cozy place somewhere between Lynyrd Skynyrd and Leonard Cohen.

This spinner of wispy, earnest vocals, sad-eyed melodies and country sensibilities lacks that special spark of passion to keep one's interest.

A glorious noise in which wailing guitars, teeth-rattling drums and Ralph Cuseglio's bug-eyed hollering leave no place for pretense.

Fusing R&B, pop, jazz, blues, throwback soul--hell, you name it--Keys delivers grandstand ballads (like the single "Fallin' "), midtempo music, diary-worthy lyrics and feminist funk as if they were all as uncomplicated as scales.

The disc is all over the map, moving from booming dance cuts to gangsta fare, but it satisfies with crunk-tacular gems like "What You Know."

If you're not already part of the Dashboard faithful, these tortured-by-love songs get to be a bit much.

He comes across like a smarter, gentler sidekick to Badly Drawn Boy.

Taylor sounds assuredly relaxed and content.

This ain't another Daydream Nation, but Nurse is a good cure for what ails the airwaves.

As leftovers go, this Album is refreshingly tasty.

Sounds like it was recorded in a tin can and constructed from leftovers off the group's debut.

The reactionary disc is a step up from 2003's similarly political offering, Greendale, largely because it doesn't come disguised as some community-theater production.

Injecting the album with plenty of soul, gospel and throwbacks to that old-school Motown sound, producers like the Neptunes, Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis and guests like Eve help round out what's possibly the best R&B album this year.

This is smart, literate stuff painted on a rich canvas of pedal steel, ukulele, upright bass, strings and soft drums.

It's so predictable and so painfully trendy that More Than a Woman might as well have a former Mouseketeer's face on the cover.

Some Girls dishes out dirty, greasy rock 'n' roll that doesn't sacrifice mood for hooks.

Having scored a minor hit with a track that appeared on the Kids soundtrack, the group now has a big-label deal and a hip new style--still recognizably moody and tentative, but with enough down-tempo beats and electronic knob-tweaking to drift into trip-hop territory.

The overall psychedelic mood works wonders for any self-respecting fan of the Beach Boys and David Bowie.

It's not exactly a convincing change of gears, nor is it particularly groundbreaking--unless you consider jamming as many four-letter words as possible into three minutes (on "As I Come Back") novel.

An hour-long dream-pop kiss that floats by on a bed of brushed drums, lilting Hawaiian guitars and whispered vocals.