Fact is, the Enemy are better than that, and their debut full-length is also certainly better than some kind of classic Britpop rehash.

On Maps, BR breathe new life into their formula--short, fast and melodic Cali skate-punk ditties led by the always politically and socially aware growlings of lead singer Greg Graffin.

T.I. vs T.I.P. suffers from its star's inability to commit to character.

The Sheryl Crow duet works where his Norah Jones collabo didn't; I Taught Myself How To Grow Old is classic tortured Adams, and Pearls On A String is a rewarding reflection of the time he spent hanging out with Willie Nelson.

The Beasties have neither the musical chops nor the compositional skill... to hold listeners' interest for the length of an album.

Bad Brains can still blast with ferocity, but the jarring changes in tone and tempo could prove more of a problem than the lo-fi production for many listeners.

Probably his most personally revealing work yet.

Moving further away from sugar-coated post-Idol fare, Clarkson steps up with more rockers and a few ballads that, while not all destined to be radio hits, are all convincing and emotionally bare.

They seamlessly move from straight-up hardcore or punk to more traditional rock all over this record, and there's no shortage of fist-pumping anthems.

Ferry manages to breathe new life into [the songs] while maintaining their integrity and original purpose.

The novelty of it all has quickly worn thin.

Most of Icky Thump's songs sound half-assed, with keyboard parts thrown in ad hoc, but at least they had the good sense to trim the piano bar balladry.

This disc is dullsville.

Overall, as safe as Highway might be, there's no way long-time fans won't buy it.

Though QOTSA always seem to be on bland-rock stations, this is as different from the mainstream as you can imagine, and not in a bad way.

The problem is that all this stuff sounds terribly dated already.

A combination of insipid songs and uniformly soulless performances, it deserves high placement among the other legendary Macca misfires Pipes Of Peace, Press To Play, Off The Ground, Tug Of War and Red Rose Speedway.

What a joyously juddering load of comical clatter it is.

He doesn't sound convincingly comfortable in this power-ballad terrain that once worked so well for him in Temple Of The Dog.

There aren't really any Beautiful People-type moments, only a collection of songs that work surprisingly well as a kind of musical diary for a performer who has finally acknowledged that he's not the threatening icon he once was.

Maths + English is not without its gems.

A fairly satisfying collection of disposable pop R&B.

It's all a bit of a muddle.

Those lyrics may seem slightly ridiculous, but between them and his thinly veiled metaphors for his need to perform cunnilingus (Sweet Tooth), Kelly's originality and talent for making instant club hits is un-fucking-deniable.

A huge improvement over Alligator, and likely to launch the band into a new phase.

By no means a terrifically unique or fantastic sophomore album, it still manages to avoid mediocrity, and not just because our expectations were so low to begin with.

If you're only into the band for the music, then this will be a solid purchase – it's far more polished and focused than Songs About Jane. Lyrically, though, this album gets tired fast.

It seems as if they've done everything possible to distance themselves from their original, much more interesting sound, opting instead for songs with barely enough hooks and coherent structures.