If her album is musically uneven at times, her artistry and strength continue to shine as undimmed beacons.

For elder listeners Fear probably won't serve as the powerful statement it wants to be--its themes have been explored to more exacting impact before and, musically, it's fairly standard progressive fare--but it is a strong and intelligent album and for a generation that's grown numb from three-minute ditties about life at the end of the country club cul-de-sac that embrace rather than rage against the dying of the light, it may serve as a wake up call and provide hope for a brighter and more color-infused tomorrow.

There are moments of light and hope on At the End of Paths Taken, but overall it is a deliriously dark and brooding album.

As usual, the band never takes itself too seriously, crafting melodies around a lively, vigorous cast of characters that practically come to life.

Duff edges ever closer to adult sensibilities; her goofball Lizzie McGuire days seem far behind.

Ozomatli serve up a rhythmically seething musical mélange that serves as virtual mirror to the dizzying cultural contradictions at the heart of their Los Angeles hometown.

Shock Value is a far-reaching and ambitious disc; a masterpiece, even, in its own way.

Their multiple piercings, shaved heads, and abundant tattoos have them labeled a punk band, but on [Revival], Good Charlotte... fall much more under the umbrella of 1970s arena rock and mainstream ballads.

Little here finds McGraw in a feel-good mode.

True, LCD's music is not for everyone, which may have something to do with why their fans love them as they do. If you fall into the latter category, however, Silver is gold.

We Were Dead... is denser than its predecessor with tunes that seem willfully harder to penetrate.

Making no palpable effort to crack the conventional with overflowing melodies and love songs, Bird instead latches up the intellect to create tiny packages of literature that make always leave you thinking--and snapping your fingers at the same time.

He's an expert at creating mesmerizing, sophisticated pop.

Her strongest [album] by far.

Pocket Symphony won't yield any pop hits, but it could be the soundtrack to endless rainy afternoons.

While it may be impossible for this Son Volt to ever reach the pinnacle of their 1995 debut, no one can accuse Jay Farrar of going through the motions.

If the new album goes farther in advocating a political conscience--"On with the Song" takes jabs at the jingoistic rubes who dissed the Dixie Chicks, while "Why Shouldn't We" insists we'll have worthy heroes in office again one day--it largely invokes the same quiet, warm, and conversational tone as its predecessor.

Easily their best album since 2000's Red Line.

Imagine the Long Winters if they were far more in love with the synth and guitar textures of the '80s than the precious pop sounds of the '70s and you'd have this, a hard to pigeonhole album which greatly rewards multiple listens.

West may well be her best album. It is easily her most musically adventurous, and often her most lyrically inspired.

Jesse Sykes is hard to pin down--and that's a good thing indeed.

Her most musically diverse and accessible album yet.

Some of this music is oddly affecting; much of it is merely odd.

An album that is as fiercely imaginative as any the Sacramento-based group has released before.

Although not quite as towering an achievement as 2002's Grammy-nominated Walking with Thee, Visitations keeps Clinic at the tip of modern popular music's shrinking creative vanguard.

It's not Blur, the Clash, Fela, the Verve, or Gorillaz. It's more than just names on albums.

Wincing is neither the clever genre recombinant exercise of their second album nor is it the perfect little self-contained universe of their debut. This is not the Shins' best album; it's their growing pains third record.

As always, the directness of Doiron's writing and performing is subtly compelling.