These tunes find him not only reconnecting with his sense of melodic urgency but with his loins, as well.

If it's not his best, it's easier to warm up to than most of his solo releases.

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.

Skull Ring delivers some truly pumping generation-bridging rock moments.

Her vocal quirks can take some getting used to, but the oblique melodies and cosmic lyrics in songs such as "On the Radio" and "20 Years of Snow" demonstrate what a remarkable talent is mixed in with all the idiosyncrasies.

Her third album reins it all in to a more palatable place with traditional R&B production and a healthy dose of funkiness.

Best Little Secrets Are Kept pays homage to the fairer gender with punchy glam-rock guitars, winking double entendres and Hill's swaggering Rocky Horror Picture Show-style vocals.

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

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

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.

The rich pop melodies and soft psychedelic touches of songs like "Empty Room" and "Waves" remind us of Coldplay and Grandaddy.

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

Fun and fascinating.

Jet has more fun with songs like "Cold Hard B****" than most bands do during their entire careers.

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.

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

The music is as fine as the pairing is strange.

A solo album to put all solo albums to shame.

Surprisingly bright and confident.

A welcome return.

Often thrilling, sometimes just interesting.

The sophisticated retro-pop sound, dreamy melodies and soft electronic beats of Ivy do more to further international relations than any George W. Bush visit could ever hope to.

There's no denying the music is ridiculously fun, as it bounces from Strokes-style garage riffs and Nirvana-esque angst to epic Brit-pop melodies and pop twists.

Yes, the melodies are a little sillier this time around, however the electro-funk grooves are doubly irresistible.

Michael Jackson's probably thinking, "Man, this is the album I should've made last year!"

Edgier and more experimental than its predecessors, The Garden also ramps up the chill factor.

Musically, the album bounces from a full-on urban polka ("Oblivion") to tracks with plenty of Apollo Showtime-style organs, horns and disco and funk elements that keep the wacky tales from sounding wack.

Sure, it has a slightly confusing air to it, but with lost gems like "Ali's Waltz" and "Beautiful World" popping up along the way, that's part of the fun.

A little bit less filler and the album would have really lived up to its name.

You'll love it.

43 minutes of thrills.

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.

As leftovers go, this Album is refreshingly tasty.

Wonderfully soothing, late-night music that is simply beautiful.

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.

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

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

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

A packed 73-minute disc with breathy vocals, smooth R&B jams and seductive sentiments.

A little more electric guitar would've helped, but these tales of capitalism gone amok are worth checking out.

The long-standing ambient-techno pioneer uses everything from heart-attack-paced jungle to classically minded electronic minimalism to remind us why bands like Radiohead cite him as an influence

You can't deny that these dudes are on to something great. Seriously.

The best stuff here eschews tradition for sonic rebellion...

So maybe Black Foliage can be a bit self-indulgent and uneven at times (the short connecting tracks that recur throughout the album, for example), but such missteps go along with a brimming imagination that boldly explores the outer limits of rock's subconscious.

The results are compelling and restrained, with hand claps, creaking organ and thudding bass drums joining Chapman's melancholy pipes.

The slow-motion funk of the previously unreleased "Ghost Train" alone makes it worth the sticker price.

Strong and sensual.

It works brilliantly.

The band's recovery on Vision Valley is nothing short of remarkable.

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

A set of really great songs.

Radio stations will still probably ignore the old-school, stylish singles like "Proper Propaganda" and "Heavy Rotation" that make Expansion Team a winner.

The rootsy folk and ethereal harmonies drift lazily, setting a lonesome, winsome mood, without being somber.

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.

In a meeting of the minds, the folk hero and the electronic-music guru produce an unexpectedly listenable collection of songs that doesn't really compromise either of their styles.

The disc's cool atmosphere and expansive orchestral arrangements go a long way in making a mood.

Sure, the lyrics are a bit weak at times, but when a band's having this much fun, you can't help but want to join in.

Not for the weak (or for Foo fans, really), this is some heavy hard-core stuff that's supernaturally superb.

Oddly enough, he not only makes it work, he makes it a whopping success.

J5 is hard enough to sample Public Enemy on the standout single "What's Golden" and features two of the best turntablists working today, Cut Chemist and DJ Nu-Mark.

Coldplay comparisons are instantly apparent, but you get the feeling that these guys aren't going to end up with movie-star girlfriends.

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.

The lyrics are as trite and cheesy as ever, but age and playing house with No Doubt's Gwen Stefani have mellowed model-esque frontman Rossdale.

There's a bit an identity crisis going on here, but fans of this stuff ought to fall under the Numbers' spell pretty darn fast.

C&C's music factory comes across as a unique, modern perspective of both rock's past and present.

Stone navigates her way with confidence and prowess, passion and experimentation.

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

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.

She's the perfect '70s soul-funk mama, and lucky for us, she's stuck in 2004.

Lullabies to Paralyze explodes with tight, meaty riffs, enormous pop melodies and vocals that seem to come from outer space.

This new soul still sounds fresh.

The band has energy and urgency anew.

What it lacks in aggression, though, the disc more than makes up for in inspiration, as these covers are so radically reworked that they sound as much like originals as the disc's lone new tune, "Passive."

With their intensely layered harmonies, pounding rhythms and Martsch's own nasal drawl, songs like "Alarmed" and "You Are" are sublimely hummable pop gems.

Take Elton John, multiply him by five, add a pinch of Frankie Goes to Hollywood, maybe a little Beck and some Carson Kressley, and you'll have something resembling the Scissor Sisters.

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

An album that does his low-key legacy well, mixing classic rock-influenced guitar solos and quaint folk sounds with psychedelic effects and high-pitched melodies that put Rush's Geddy Lee to shame.

While the signature muffled beats of Shadow are missing, Land is so much more expansive, effortlessly melding electronica and Britpop.

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

There's a little reggae touch here, some mild folk there, but mostly Johnson just excels at creating gentle background music that sways like the waves and feels twice as cool.

His lyrics remain slightly twisted, the music is uniformly dark and the singer's still a little freaky.

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

Snoop sounds as cool as ever with his velvety voice and nodding head keeping the laid-back party going.

Part new-wave keyboards, part folky acoustic guitars, the music on More Adventurous is unexpectedly beautiful.

Totally depressing and totally engaging.

Aside from the thumping groove of "Nobody Knows Me" and a few other bouncy beats, much of the electro style Madonna experimented with on 2000's Music has been replaced with warmer sounds and earthy touches, like acoustic guitars and a choir that comes from nowhere on "Nothing Fails."

There's still plenty of spunk in to be found in this Sgt. Pepper-lite.

The pretty ballads meditating on the vast wilderness and lonely highways of the great white north provide the perfect showcase for Krall's sultry voice and Costello's classic melodies.

A quietly retro mix of guitars and organ-fueled songs, the music simmers rather than boils over.

It's an easy listen, enjoyable on the surface with deeper meanings you're willing to dig.

Under My Skin gets generic at times, but that's why it works.

This solo disc by Phish phrontman Trey Anastasio offers some delicious bait.

By getting real, Garbage has produced quite a find.

There's enough melody and structure to keep one engaged.

This disc has a clutch of songs that mix chord-y abandon with raging rock riffs--and a heck of a lot of good times.

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

While undeniably ambitious and moving in parts--with sunny harmonies and layered production--it also happens to be a little kitschy.

If the album weren't so agreeably off-kilter--short, whispery tunes alternate with long, rambling epics--its mix of guitars and piano would almost seem like the stuff you'd hear on rockers like Layla or Abbey Road.