Evil Heat lacks a coherent vision and sounds, if anything, like Xtrmntr's cast-offs.

A perfect album of gorgeous dance music.

A strange mix of songs that, while varied, doesn't boast much personality of its own.

Somehow, it just might be the pop album of the year.

There’s a certain pleasure in watching celebrities like Justin Timberlake, Natalie Portman, or T-Pain take the piss out of themselves. Unfortunately, this is largely drained when you’re listening to the songs sans-video.

The Tourist is a good record, and this newest iteration of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah sounds very promising. The Tourist reflects the transition from a quintet to a solo project.

Move Like This isn't a failure by any means. It's not the resounding triumph you might have hoped for, either.

If you’re the sort of person who focuses on the fact that this album doesn’t exactly bring a lot of revolutionary stuff to the table, that Lerner’s lyrics are a little clichéd at their worst, that it’s a little too easy to slap Telekinesis! with the increasingly bland “indie rock” tag instead of focusing on the fact you’re listening to a collection of sincere, intelligently constructed, often beautiful songs, then you probably shouldn’t be bothering with this whole pop music thing in the first place.

Animator is an album with a very well-built and convincing formula, one that works best when the Luyas stick to their own script. The off-book moments here, though they attempt to surprise, in the end just pull us out of what's an otherwise hypnotizing record.

Although several of the tracks on Underwater Cinematographer lack a certain individuality, the remainder brim with creativity and the notion that there's something spectacular around the corner.

Never mind the tattle in the press, the live show proves that the rumors are true. The music speaks for itself. The Gossip is the real deal.

Sure, there are special treats like a guest vocal from Phil Oakey (the Human League), but overall, if you like Little Boots, you will love Hands. And not liking Little Boots is like not liking fun.

All in all, Tipped Bowls is a very nearly excellent piece of accessible electronica. Nearly excellent.

Songs of Mass Destruction is likely to resonate with those who recognize the unique quality of Lennox’s work and there is enough of high artistic value here to allow the album to serve as another guarantee of Lennox’s fine legacy, even if the spectacular musical moments are scattered around a bit more than on previous efforts.

This is a record for fans of Jerry Jeff, certainly, who will appreciate these reverent covers from an obvious and devoted acolyte. But, for Snider's fans the album will be even more powerful; as a celebration of his deepest influence.

Trail of Dead succeeds here by putting together a collection of songs that accurately reflects the kind of band they have always been. This is still a brash, sweeping, “ring the alarm bell!” brand of music. It’s just not that fun to listen to anymore.

You'd expect a fuzz-heavy, distortion-laden outing from this crew, and you'd be right, yet the band's sound is oddly flat.

There is no doubt that Spirits is experimental and a little too relaxing.

Under the Covers, Vol. 3 has more ups and downs than the Texas Cyclone. There are moments that are very good and moments that feel watered down, by the numbers and plain.

There is nothing wrong with working a beloved genre and working it hard; however, if faithful imitation is substituted for inspiration and energy, the results tend to be kind of underwhelming.

Given the band's checkered history, there's no telling if Hurley is a new beginning or simply this year's model.

Given the strength of the music and the shock of the Spree’s new choice of uniform, it is too bad that there isn’t something a little bit more biting, a little bit more revelatory in the lyrics beneath that music, the soul behind the uniforms.

Although there is definitely musical colour here, Marina’s vocal delivery and attitude has a tendency to overshadow the music, which is often melodically inventive, but we are rarely given the chance to realise this.

EVOL doesn’t stand up to his critical peaks, but this could easily be seen as but a release to tide fans over before the next blockbuster.

Drastic Fantastic is not so much a revelation, and song-by-song, it might not even quite surpass its predecessor in overall strength, but it’s proof that she’s for real.

Rebel Heart is very much the first Madonna album that’s actually about Madonna with a majority of these tracks commenting on her own history and accomplishments with varying degrees of success.

The handful of tracks that work on Ratworld demonstrate that Menace Beach has potential. But the rest of the album shows clearly that while the group has a distinctive sound, they just aren’t there yet from a songwriting perspective.

Collaborations is a reasonably diverse batch of songs -- nearly all of them enjoyable, and some of them quite inspired.

Black Clouds and Silver Linings is a good album. It’s not great, but it’s their best in a while.

While Supermeng is a fun and recommendable LP, it's also a maddeningly uneven depiction of a skilled musician's talent.

Some of the reworkings on Still Within the Sound of My Voice are timeless themselves, and are worth more than a few words of praise.

It’s funky, it’s debonair, and it’s overall something that rewards repeat listens to isolate elements and notice the flourishes of colour that GusGus brings to its sound.

Chasing Yesterday, despite alluding to the framework of time in its title, is an album of no time: not interested enough to truly mine from the past, seemingly incapable of moving forward with new ideas, and too stuck in old rhythms to be called music of its time.

Undoubtedly solid, diverse and finding well good use of its plethora of bass players and its loveable, nutty front man, Melvins deliver yet another solid release.

Jawbone isn’t likely to shoot to the top of a fan’s “favorite Paul Weller albums” list anytime soon--the stuff he does regularly is far more effective. But as a debut soundtrack, this is an extremely strong effort, and with Weller continuing to push boundaries farther and farther as his career progresses.

Living Colour has solidified their standing as one of the most consistent, original and important bands America has produced. There’s little left to say: kick the chair out of the doorway and get this essential album into your life, immediately.

The pieces tie together, and at the end of the day, there’s no denying that Mastermind is a fun album.

The rough, live feel of the tracks comes across beautifully in the recording, and after years of winning over fans with truly rocking live shows, the Church have finally managed to capture that sound on disc.

Von is neither that bad nor that good. It is definitely not a clunker, and despite its rough-edged and misplaced ambition it succeeds quite grandly at times.

Offering a kind of pessimistic energy that may not add much to a genre inundated with bad attitudes, they elevate their game a little here and produce a record stuffed with likable and applicable anthems.

As it stands, The Magician’s Private Library is an anemic batch of songs that drifts by in a blur - albeit a rich, multi-hued blur.

A long look in the mirror, the band’s fourth record proves an examination of reflection, best where predictable and worst where you see something surprising that doesn’t belong.

Compared with Folkloric Feel there’s more pop and accessibility here.

If Seth’s letter announcing its arrival prior to release has any overarching voice in this, their goal of developing a record that portrays itself as “multidimensional as its makers” has been thoroughly achieved.

At the same time that Green has perfected the easy-listening, lazy-day ballad on Jacket Full of Danger, he’s also taken the theatrical, showbiz style of Gemstones to the next level.

When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold is almost entirely forgettable.

There is a consistency to the album that is both its strength and its weakness.

Mandowa has carefully crafted the album so that each song appears smooth and calming while retaining an adventurous edge.

The weight of history and tape hiss has been lifted and the songs can stand alone on Cool Planet. As it turns out, they hold up pretty well on their own.

The band's as tight as ever, relaxed but always strong, but Farrar seems to drift in intensity and focus.

It’s hard to say if this is Lofgren’s finest hour or just another fine hour in a long line of them, and in the end, it doesn’t really matter.

The production cylinders are firing, but the songcraft, so present on the first six tracks, doesn’t keep up with the pace. Even so, certain elements reveal a band committed to trying things out, making pop songs in unlikely formats, and having fun doing it.

This kind of deliberate quiet may not be for everyone. But if you’re willing to live with Life on Earth for a while, you might be surprised how comforting its vast isolation can feel.

I’ll Find a Way won’t go down as a Blind Boys of Alabama classic, but at least 50% of it certainly brings the goods.

Each instrumental, named after its place of origin, floats by languorously and begins to blur together into a gentle, placid paste not even three songs in. Each track is gorgeous, but they’re all also immeasurably passive, with only a few key differences between each to make them separate entities.

Though Sea Sew is a folk album, the music here is thrillingly lush.

Last Night on Earth too often finds Ranaldo relying on familiar arrangements as a crutch more than a creative tool.

For those with an indie record collection longer than any Christmas list, it will fit right in. It would just be nice if Tyvek would stand out more instead of quietly doing its job.

An album that feels sometimes self-assured and under control and at other times far too hemmed in.

Comedown Machine is an enjoyable album with some great moments, though not a perfect or definitive one.

The Understanding definitely shows the growth of a young group and the innovation that Röyksopp have been experimenting with since their 2004 debut, but they haven't yet reached the height of their potential.

The Ghost Inside do little to variate on the established metalcore sonic, even though they play that sonic well.

The experiments can sometimes push too far to fit, as on “Imperial Beach”, while other moments (like “Blues in the Afternoon”) seem cut off too soon, but overall Ride the Black Wave is another solid, unexpected sound from the San Diego outfit.

Each song displays years of skill and talent, but as a whole the album shows that even the greats might need a few practice runs before they get it spot on.

The Long Beach rapper hasn’t evolved much from his early years, but that lack of development is negligible when he does the West Coast sound so much justice.

At over 70 minutes, remarkably long for country music, Good Time has the relaxed tone of an album designed to let Jackson do a little bit of everything, to showcase why he’s a star.

While the remaining six tracks are neither as catchy nor polished as the title track, they offer some worthwhile lyrical content and musical twists, more subtly evoking the rustic desolation the group aims for.

Aside from its travelogue conceit and the way its opening renaissance faire-like leitmotif appears on all the tracks, Lysandre suffers from a lack of direction and cohesion.

This is the ground those guys were born to walk on, while the new Man of Aran score can be a bit of a stretch at times. Nevertheless, props are due for the effort as I shudder to think where they could have gone with it. At least they tried.

Everything about ¡Dos! is a step up from the last go-round, as if the previous LP was a mere dress rehearsal for the proper show,

Although Kaliedoscope Heart was probably intended to prove Bareilles' staying power, it only confirms suspicions that in some years, she'll be as remembered as Michelle Branch, or Tracy Bonham, still making music, but without any of the mass appeal they once enjoyed.

On Time Is Over One Day Old, there’s always something missing, a mystery hanging in the air, yet it’s the band’s most satisfying album yet.

Merritt's merry band has returned to what it does best, capturing snapshots of love from unexpected perspectives in unforeseen ways.

It's another sequence full of common tropes and techniques (to the point of plagiarism in some cases), and at only 26 minutes in length, it rushes by without leaving much of an impression.

Silicon Tare is a Com Truise EP for Com Truise fans, and as nice as it may be to add five more perfectly calibrated tracks to the collection, it seems like an empty gesture at the same time.

Though these guys may not have quite perfected their excellent formula just yet, Gangs is nevertheless a step in the right direction.

Instead of a collection of singles, each song [on the album] develops an element nascent from the beginning, "Headlights," into a deeper exploration. The downside of this is that all the songs begin to blur together.

The harder moments on Decimation Blues feels too forced in their oddness, too self-conscious for us to really follow.

London Grammar’s music remains gorgeous, but the band too often limits themselves with their own conservatism.

The major misstep on Free Your Mind is eschewing those decent lyrical impulses in favor of rather limp and unaccomplished (and repeated!) inanities such as “free your mind” and “shine on,” phrases that should be confined, respectively, to the lexicons of aging hippies and Roger Waters.

Innocence Reaches feels like Barnes has found his center again. This time out he’s figured out how to combine his melodic skills with his musical idiosyncrasies in a way that works, for the most part, really well.

While you could say the Weddoes' m.o. is fairly predictable at this point, it nonetheless feels vibrant and engaging enough because of the conviction the band puts into its music, be it the bite of the buzzsaw riffs or the snap of the heavy beats or Gedge's snarling vocals, which can still sneer with the best of 'em after all these years.

Dark Light Daybreak reaches for territory that LeMaster simply is not ready for, and which is unsuited for the songwriting strength he possesses.

Strange Desire most certainly proves at least one thing: Nate Ruess isn’t the only guy in fun. who can write a hell of a pop song. And really, that’s all that should ever matter to anyone who chooses to give Bleachers the time of day in the first place.

Catchy, fun, and even touched with a little regret, Self Entitled is just the kind of album NOFX should be making at this point.

As a hit 'n' run, intimate, artist showcase, Session will have you applauding between numbers and readily swinging your wallets capwards by the end.

Tough Age does as good a job as anyone at meeting these minimum standards [of garage rock], while crafting few fun pop songs along the way. There’s little enough to separate them from the already-crowded pack, however.

Overall, Similar Skin is a very solid record, and it definitely suggests a particular mesh of influences that make Umphrey’s McGee stand out.

This album will not please everyone, but it is unique when compared to Tankian's work up to now, and that is what's best for everyone.

On his first full length record, The Good Life, Justin Townes Earle delivers the best debut roots music has seen since Old Crow Medicine Show hit the big time with "OCMS" in 2004.

Griffith presents her deeply felt personal secrets and political fears to sing and cover songs that come from the heart without shutting off her brain.

When the band sticks to this wheelhouse, they're as successful as they've ever been. When they divert from it, the results are wishy-washy.

It’s not good, it’s not bad, it’s just what they’re doing, and they run it down with an unfettered zeal.

It is not all this good on Shots, but when it is, Ladyhawk show they can stand with most any rock band going today.

Her sound sure is pretty, but it doesn’t hook you in the way, say, Cat Power’s self-destruction does.

It may not quite match up to their best work—which is, for my money, The Ghost of Fashion—but it’s a sure sign that they’re on their way back to that high-watermark.

Overall, it’s tough to tell what the band was thinking here. If their intention was to branch out, they’ve done it, but the songwriting quality has definitely suffered.

Simply put, Enjoy the Company isn't an overly grossly spectacular record; it is just good time rock and roll.