Fans might find it a fascinating revelation, and Madonna will likely swipe a few ideas, while everyone else is left wondering what happened to the tunes.

Reign Of Terror still sounds like Sleigh Bells, but a more polite and conservative version.

There's no denying Bronson is a supreme talent, but Mr. Wonderful feels more like a low-stakes failed experiment than a grand proclamation.

The sophistication suits the songs, which have a tragic seriousness without becoming a gloomy slog.

It's a solid album with strong production and songwriting, but it won't blow any minds.

Diversifying is a good plan, seeing as this kind of thrashy, mid-fi guitar pop can all melt together. Thankfully, the sugary keyboards and furious, to-the-point guitar solos (and guitarmonies!) cause most of the songs to shred in their own special way.

Unfortunately, few songs truly stand out. Peven Everett’s effusive turn on Strobelite is the biggest pop moment, while De La Soul fronting the pounding Momentz gives the album some early momentum.

Despite the production side's strengths, Two Eleven's themes and lyrics are ho-hum.

Celebrity aside, Speak Now is as hooky as its predecessors but differs in its often angry, spiteful tone.

Same Old Man isn’t Hiatt’s finest hour but it’s still far from his worst.

Henry, fresh from co-producing the Knocked Up soundtrack, doesn't have an exceptional voice. It's croaky, with little range, and the piano- and acoustic-based music on Civilians (out Sept 11) is kept unobtrusive, serving his writerly lyrics well.

None of them are as immediately catchy or memorable, and perhaps that’s to be expected. But Petty and Co. are at ease and doing what they please.

Days is a step in the right direction, but we're hoping they can challenge themselves to do something greater on album three.

It's lacking the melancholic darkness that added substance to Strange Geometry.

Once again Steve Albini-produced, their third effort doesn’t stray wildly from Matt’s laid-back vocals and the intertwining melodic guitar parts they’re now known for, but there is at least one effort to evolve.

Protest the Hero have never been short on energy, but their fourth album lacks variety and rarely allows the listener to breathe.

While several other songs get overly-orchestral. Sometimes the strings work really well, though, like on Lonely Desolation, fuelled by plucked violin.

For all its unexpected sounds and catchy choruses, Emotion falters in its lyrical blandness.

Their imperfections blare through your speakers, as do the clanging discofied hi-hats, nervy guitar lines and jagged, boy/girl shouted vocals. And yet it satisfies in a way similar to seeing the final pages of your fanzine come spitting through a photocopier.

It's nice to hear De La Soul stretching themselves creatively, and even the less successful detours are interesting additions to an already eclectic catalogue.

Closer Oh Bummer, sung by drummer Greg Saunier, is a straightforward moody rock song--at least for the first three minutes, after which a striking doomsday-meets-Thriller breakdown erupts, reminding diehard fans that the band members are still weirdos but also keeping fair-weather listeners at a distance.

The album’s emphasis on repetition occasionally sounds too self-conscious, but it’s a rare excess in an otherwise restrained--if not necessarily subtle--collection of ballads.

Fans of his ambient hip-hop and blissed-out impressionist R&B will be more pleased with Guilt Trips than those who prefer his clubby side.

Rault’s commitment and ability to ape the sounds of his idols is both his strength and his Achilles’ heel.

Sykes's closely mic'd vocals add a confessional quality to her melancholic delivery of cold raindrops and empty sky imagery that's endearing in small doses.

It may be exactly what fans have been waiting for, but you have to wonder how long the band can keep using the same templates.

There are some missteps--the ballad Tripwire feels out of place in the general uptempo pace, and in (She Might Be A) Grenade, Costello lazily compares a girl to an atomic bomb (didn’t Green Day already do this?)--but when the album works, the band and the singer/songwriter sound more invigorated than they have in years.

While IV shows a progression, it lacks the progressiveness that would keep BBNG in a league with their aforementioned jazz/hip-hop predecessors and peers. However admirably, it stays in its own lane.