Here he shows more quirky imagination and inventive musicianship than on any of his earlier efforts.

If it's an album that also argues that the band is working from formula, it's one they'd be wise to patent.

Longtime fans might take it like a kick to the head, but this band is clearly moving toward bigger things.

Hersh has also masterfully tamed her potent vocal quirks here, using them to tease one moment and hypnotize the next.

Disciplined, varied, and often mind-blowing playing.

Few bands... make slowing down sound this risky.

While Dar Williams's artistic trademarks--lyrical introspection, melodic warmth, an occasional tendency toward breathy vocal preciousness--remain much in evidence on this collection, the expanded musical support adds more rhythmic propulsion and layers of harmonies to the mix.

Bright Yellow, Bright Orange is further proof that the second half of the Go-Betweens’ career is one well worth following.

This album solidifies their standing as one of the most endearingly idiosyncratic bands on the American scene.

In a world gone mad, it's nice to know that some things--like Ministry's ability to tear up the floorboards with crushing efficiency--never change.

Even the contemporary numbers sound like classics.

Amidst all the fun is a dynamic record that holds your attention.

Nocturama feel[s] messy, unpredictable, and even a little dangerous--qualities Cave's music hasn't had in far too long.

Sure, Get Rich could never have lived up to the hype, it’s nowhere near Biggie's Ready to Die or Nas's Illmatic, but there's no fast-forward material here, a near miracle in these times.

While Corgan's tendency toward self-indulgence results in the tedious 14-minute "Jesus, I/Mary Star of the Sea," it is just a minor lapse considering the rest of the big, glamorous rock on display here.

Brilliantly melds the aural imagery of Andrew Hill's '60s Blue Note classic Judgment! with contemporary electronica effects.

A masterly exercise in restraint, subtle sophistication, and melodic playfulness.

An inspired and diverse 15-song opus.

While some might be disappointed after spending God knows what on a copy of Twoism only to find it suddenly available anywhere, others looking for more of BoC's melancholy, spellbinding compositions should take fast advantage.

Like its predecessor, Genesis, this album is sonically superior to most in the marketplace.

One of his best-balanced albums in years.

The album sags in spots, and McGraw and his coproducers misstep in adding faux R&B vocal washes here and there. But this is a good, solid effort to make music and not just the radio charts.

Compared to ambitious contemporaneous concept albums by peers such as Common and the Roots, Quality feels unexpectedly conventional--a strong collection of songs in need of a unifying force.

Seldom do you get to see an artist exorcise her pain in public with such poise and fearlessness.

The album serves as both an ambitious travelogue and as a graceful rejoinder to the bitterness and frustration that inspired it, with Amos wading through swells of sadness ("I Can't See New York"), anger ("Don't Make Me Come to Vegas"), and insecurity ("Your Cloud") with velvety grace.

Depending on your partiality for mid-’70s macramé culture, this is either a gift from the gods or the worst thing that could possibly happen to pop culture since bellbottoms made a comeback.

Her readings of the Hank Williams classic, "Cold Cold Heart" and Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness of You" alone are worth the price of the CD.