Even at its most pieced-together and deconstructed, Califone's music feels organic.

It kind of sounds like classic AM radio interpreted by a very strange garage rock band.

G-Unit needs to stop remaking Lloyd Banks's first hit, On Fire, from, like, two years ago.

This disc won't change your life but makes for a pleasant 40-minute listen.

The trio have also grown more comfortable singing the blues and incorporating meatier harmonica and guitar arrangements, and lurching tracks like Out Of The Wilderness and A Little Blues make up for weaker soft rock ballads that leave little impression.

There's still a welcome sense of spontaneity in the way the songs unfold; it just occurs at a Sunday-morning pace, which should make Meek Warrior the perfect soundtrack for watering houseplants.

Without the bizarre lyrical invention and fuck-shit-up whimsy of his earlier work, Beck's attempts at party jams come off woefully overwrought and flat, making the darker bits interspersed throughout seem intriguing by default.

Sam's Town works well as a cohesive album, despite its delusions of grandeur.

Only their radical overhaul of Nine Inch Nails' Hand That Feeds shows any sign of creativity.

The Dears' biggest coup with Gang Of Losers, though, is Lightburn's newfound ability to express his own sturm und drang through varied delivery rather than just a bloodcurdling caterwaul.

Oddly, the unconventional sequencing and measured pace of the album make the fragmented mess hold together quite well.

Fans will be thrilled to know that, despite the replacement of main guitarist and co-songwriter Ben Moody, Evanescence's sophomore album is at least as unsubtle as its predecessor.

While occasionally generic, nothing on Shine On is as annoying as their breakthrough single, Are You Gonna Be My Girl.

Unfortunately, all the intricately picked little guitar figures don't make his raspy yelping sound any less like a wet cat stuck under a couch.

A solid debut, but only a hint of what's to come.

Though the album can get somewhat repetitive, Adem's polished production and intimate songwriting minimize any flaws.

There's a little too much consistency across the album -- too few moments stand out, and too many of the hooks just blend together.

An album defined more by its background players than its star.

Somehow, Ta-Dah feels like the Sisters covering themselves, and the glitter and gloss have worn off.

Not terrible, just half-assed.

There's no cohesion... That said, Luda can still turn out solid tracks based on three qualities: clever lyrics, commitment to concepts and taste in beats.

While their performance is expansive and parts are definitely stretched out and rocked out, like on I Will Sing You Songs and Mahgeetah, this is just solid performing, not lame jam band shit.

Like nothing you'll ever hear on country radio.

Problem is, the odd hodge-podge of tracks have no apparent connection to each other and certainly don't make for a coherent statement or even a decent mixtape.

The lineup addition of [singer Dawn] McCarthy proves to be a genius move; her vocals blend beautifully with Oldham's, and her soaring solo flights make a great recording exceptional.

Their distinctive differences as songwriters (Emily Saliers is soft and spiritual, Amy Ray punk rock and raw) are often complementary, but sometimes the songs cry out for more input from the other.

It's not that The Captain & The Kid is a bad album; it just sounds terribly dated.

Basically, if London Bridge doesn't make you want to rip your ears off, you'll enjoy almost 80 per cent of the album.