This is hot.

It feels like a bunch of friends jamming on a farm, even if there are still a few electronica elements here and there.

Think of it as avant-garde composer John Cage trying his hand at disco and getting it right.

A floundering mess that bores you to tears.

There's still some banjo-pickin' and fiddle-playing, but The Long Way's clean, soft-rockin' vibe is striking in contrast to the traditional bluegrassy leanings of 2002's Home.

Though you might have pangs for United's enjoyable weirdness, It's Never Been Like That is serious fun.

The songs are still full of lush guitars and dense, clattering percussion, but offer the added bonus of being more grandiose and emotional.

Broken Boy Soldiers won't reverse global warming, but it certainly tops Get Behind Me Satan for rockin' entertainment.

The main attraction is still Baird's and Weeks's haunting voices, which turn a risky experiment into a genre-defining classic.

Once you get past the placid bit at the beginning, it's straight into the relentlessly pummelling assault we've come to love and expect from the mighty Japanese trio, and Pink's wallop-per-second rate puts it in a class with Heavy Rocks at the top of the Boris heap.

The really exciting news is that [Sexsmith] actually takes some vocal risks – and sounds like he's having fun doing it.

It's a disappointing underachievement.

A courageous statement that should resonate far and wide.

It's too bad hackneyed spider-woman metaphors and non-specific allusions to 'regret' don't match BHP's level of sonic sophistication.

Sounds like one big, happy family get-together.

Brutally beautiful.

Somewhat self-indulgent, it's remarkably listenable considering some of the "instruments" used.

Frusciante's guitar work... almost single-handedly saves the project, but not quite.

Eno definitely does imbue the mix with some sonically compelling elements, washing songs through some darker-than-usual moods.

Unfortunately, singer Gary Lightbody can't resist playing it safe. He slides comfortably back into the stadium-size ballads and mushy MOR formulas that scored on their million-seller, Final Straw.

The artful and relatable way Dawson writes about real life makes each song like a little individually wrapped gift.

The Oslo five-piece flirt with overindulging their feedback fetish... but avoid wankery by reining in the songs just before boredom sets in.

This is a groovy record from start to finish, with no major standout fantastic song and nothing that sucks.

At last, everything Escovedo does well is represented on a single disc.

They easily incorporate traditional folk elements like Nick Drake with contemporary indie rock and cinematic string arrangements that often soar above many of their songs' humble openings.

A lilting acoustic-y record with ethereal leanings, plenty of canned, overproduced studio gloss and occasional dangerous forays into mild rock.

Not surprisingly, the resulting cameo-plugged record sounds more like a G-Unit album than an Infamous one.

While it's hard to question their motives and integrity, Avocado fails to deliver the grand statement we might expect.