For every catchy electro-dance, there's a tune that leaves you scratching your head.

Most of Light at the End of the World works within the familiar confines of the vintage Erasure formula, drunk on everyman synthesizers, listing through painfully vague and obvious rhymes.

It's not likely this music will age spectacularly well, but so what?

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

Little here finds McGraw in a feel-good mode.

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

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

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.

Fans and casual enthusiasts will no doubt be bewildered by the extra experimental outings of an already daunting band--but for completists, this is the last word.

Not quite as endearing as his raw and seductive 2002 debut.

It has been said that Nelson can sing just about anything--which doesn't necessarily mean that he should.

More a pop orchestral mishmash than a well-defined rock opus, Bat III is dark, seemingly hopeless at times, and über dramatic. Oddly enough, that's also its saving grace.

Noise Floor presents a mixed bag that will enthrall hardcore Conorites but leave others frequently reaching for the skip button.

The less successful interpretations simply fail to differentiate themselves from the spirit of the originals.

Busta has never sounded so mature.

A severe line-up change has left the Stills devoid of much of its original edge.

When Tool sounds as good as it does on ["Jambi" and "The Pot"] it's hard to get enough. Which makes it all the more baffling that a surprisingly large chunk of the disc is given over to mood-enhancing soundscapes like "Lost Keys" and "Vigniti Tres."

All the Roadrunning--while beautiful--seems somehow underwhelming, and without a true centerpiece.

Not as promising as 1999’s Lipstick Gamemight have indicated, but an aggressive, hard-rock effort nonetheless.

Keith occasionally appears to be stretching himself... but often seems to be coasting.

Unpredictable actually gets rather predictable over the course of 15 songs, too many of which begin to meld into one another.

Its center becomes weighed down with bland mid-tempo numbers and the final song detracts from the powerhouse close the record might have had.

Has she grown up? Maybe not entirely yet, but Lohan is showing the promise of an honorable mainstream career.

Amarantine sounds like it was born in cloistered solitude, self-referentially echoing Enya albums past.

Phair doesn't need her angry-girl persona to prove she has talent, but she may still need it to stand out from the crowd.

A solid, if not wholly overwhelming album.

Fans of albums such as 2001’s From Chaos and 2003’s promising Evolver will likely find Tread familiar and perhaps even comforting, but it’s unlikely to invite a new horde of fans as the album often sounds like an imitation of the bands 311 helped inspire in its decade-plus career.

The acoustic guitars have largely been set aside on Chapter V, leaving Staind to pummel away at its troubles and hoping that people still have time to listen to self-pitying grown men moan about their dysfunctional childhoods.