George dives in full bore, her voice navigating his undulating road map like so many animated bluebirds flitting through a forest.

Throughout, Berg never loses his appeal.

From the first strains of 'Haiku'--an opening instrumental that merges the acid squelches of early rave with an insistent breakbeat and--yes!--congas--it's obvious that this guy's aesthetic is so clear to him that mixing disparate elements is a breeze.

It's complex and distorted, but at times it's not clear why the group's energy is purposely restrained.

Conor Oberst doesn't sound much different from any of Bright Eyes' acoustic material, except that it is lacking in the bare honesty of his earlier albums.

Randy Newman's shock-and-aw-shucks wit is so joyfully scathing at times on "Harps and Angels" that it's hard to believe it's been nine years since his last album of new material.

Lloyd still serves up a satisfying sophomore suite.

Emo fans will be satisfied; dabblers will have their assumptions about the genre confirmed.

On New York City, Brazilian Girls have crafted a set as internationally diverse as the Big Apple itself.

It all goes down smooth until Gordon introduces funk ("Radar Blip," "Jaded") and calypso ("Morphing Again") to the mix, with the results sounding stiff or dated. But make no mistake: He's got plenty to be proud of here.

That Lonesome Song is a testament to raw and real, right down to open studio mics catching stray commentary and static from a bad input.

The all-original Venus in Overdrive demonstrates the strengths that keep Springfield in the game: broad stylistic range and pure emotional energy.

Malakian and SOAD drummer John Dolmayan have indeed brought something new for their fans to love--and perhaps even for non-fans as well, given the more direct and accessible nature of Scars' music.

Spider might not make you forget "Welcome to My Nightmare," but it's nevertheless a cheerfully twisted yarn delivered with a full-on dose of guitar rockers, the requisite ballad, a soaring anthem, a bit of Beck-flavored groovery, some sly humor and nods to Cooper's glam rock past.

Paul Weller's all over the place with his ninth solo album--he visits all his touchstones, but there's less nostalgia and more experimentation infused into the tracks than usual. And that's a good thing.

The group's rocket ride appears to have preserved its more appealingly eccentric tendencies: frontman Reggie Youngblood's ridiculous yelp of a singing voice, for instance, or Dawn Watley's ultra-cheesy synth lines, which quote pretty much every new wave hit of the '80s.

The upgraded melodic sense makes CSS stand out from all the other electropop bands that sound like Liquid Liquid and can turn a smutty lyric.

Thoughtfully added complexities and musicality, like the horns and honky-tonk pianos that accent 'Army of Ancients,' bring Dr. Dog's now-familiar style to a new level of maturity and prove it's not just destiny bringing the band its success

While it's still age-appropriate for minors, Breakout is for the big kids too.

Sugarland's third album, finely crafted with producer Byron Gallimore, is proof positive that singer/songwriters Jennifer Nettles and Kristian Bush are on the cusp of superstardom.

More fun and more listenable than anyone could have expected.

The music is stripped-down but robust, with de la Rocha on vocals and keyboard and Theodore on drums.

Brooklyn's working class heroes have stepped up their musicality (harpsichord is featured on "One for the Cutters") and melodic balladry ("Lord, I'm Discouraged" is an aching prayer), while still providing their signature cacophonous anthems.

Object 47 is at once warmly familiar as Wire yet not a "return" to any particular sonic period in the group's convoluted history.

From "Project Roach," where Nas says that the NAACP's burial of "n*gger" was pointless, to "Untitled," which discusses Louis Farrakhan's role in America, the Queens MC impresses his listener while provoking social and political thought.

Searching for a ray of lyrical light in John Mellencamp's latest treatise on the state of the world proves consuming—but largely fruitless. That, however, makes the album all the more compelling.

The extremes offer up a portrait of a man far more complex than what we get from many of Banner's peers, and the inventive beats (by Banner, Cool & Dre, Akon and others) add vital life to his gruff flow. But you have to wonder if some of these tracks simply reflect the rapper's desire to be all things to all consumers.

As if almost effortlessly, Travis proves track after track the difference between bravado and stone-cold brilliance.