Peace Is the Mission soars on the strength of sticky melodies sung by a unique combo of pop divas and West Indian vocalists.

For all of the sonic pleasures, much of At.Long.Last.ASAP’s narrative is hard to swallow with a thinking mind--which makes it hip-hop at its finest, and its worst.

The 19-track album drags a bit in its latter half, but Boosie smartly saves its emotional climax for the devastating closer, "I'm Sorry," on which he ­apologizes one by one to everyone he neglected during his prison bid.

No matter the mood and tempo, though, the Florence & The Machine heard on How Big How Blue How Beautiful is a newly self-aware one. It shows a different kind of mastery by allowing for a different kind of vulnerability, an especially delicate balancing act for a young woman in pop music.

It's an intense, focused exploration of all, or nearly all, the relationships the singer is involved in, both romantic and familial.

It sounds like a collection of random one-offs rather than an album. Foxx's voice, falsetto and all, still sounds lovely, but he seems unsure exactly how he should use it.

The result is an album that doesn't quite reach the heights of Vessel, but nevertheless serves as evidence that one of pop's most daring duos isn't about to slow down--even if that means running into a few walls.

Evolution will silence all but the omnivores, and Shamir has the right taste buds. But he also has a great voice, a stunning countertenor that some have mistaken for female.

The album likely won't convince anyone who's already written off Best Coast, but it's a new high for a band many thought had peaked years ago.

It's a quick listen, clocking in at less than 45 minutes, and the 10 tracks are laid-back--perhaps too much.

Jackie feels like a missed opportunity for a talented artist to connect with fans in a new way.

Not only does Wilder Mind reintroduce the band members as rock gods worthy of the title, it does so ­without changing what fans cherished most about them in the first place: their songwriting, their sentiment, their gusto.

Globetrotting frontman Damon Albarn then returned to Hong Kong to write lyrics, hoping to recapture the spirit. He has largely succeeded, as The Magic Whip is a fascinating snapshot of a group coming to personal and professional crossroads in a strange city where modern living leads to bewilderment and alienation.

The album is a good-faith effort to match or even outstrip the band's onstage eclecticism, and the musical personality shifts help relieve the group's tendency to blandness, providing cover for Brown's dutifully generic, if personable voice.

Half [of] this EP is a weak gesture in the direction of current radio trends.... But on the other half of this EP, Dream shows an impressive new dimension to his romantic games.

Barter 6 does not have a comparable entry point. Instead, this album offers cohesion and unity, though maybe at the expense of the exciting, what-will-happen next feel of past mixtapes.

It's a promising teen's first album, and it will satisfy the ­longings of the keepers of fan Tumblrs. So far, though, Mendes' music is not nearly as inventive as his strategies to publicize it.

What Sound & Color does best is hard to describe any other way: The music chugs, boogies, churns and rolls. Among rock music of its kind, it's one of the most ­muscular collections in some time, yet it accomplishes this by hardly even flexing.

The Album About Nothing is his most personal piece of work to date, and also his best. That hair-trigger sensitivity can be off-putting, but it's also what makes him good at what he does.

The bum-outs outnumber the bangers by a decisive ratio on Ludaversal, but that speaks to the rapper's comfort in straddling dissimilar topics.

It all sounds amazing on the first couple of listens, but the wheat (songs like the title track and “Did You Know?”) separates quickly from the chaff. Regardless, The Scene Between opens up a whole new lane for an artist that would have been easy to write off.

It’s the rare major-label debut that trusts the artist’s aesthetic enough to not tamper with it.

A hazy, seductive blend of trap and techno, it feels like the soundtrack to a strip club in Paris' grittiest arrondissement.

Run is more of a technical accomplishment than an artistic one. Bruno the pop star is not nearly as appealing as Bruno the juggler.

It's true that Eclipse unveils itself less coyly than previous Twin Shadow albums, and sounds more brashly contemporary. But it hazards turning generic in the process.

To Pimp a Butterfly defies easy listening, but it's deeply rewarding.

There are times you hope for a little more dumb fun--enter Diplo, who turns up on five tracks with his air horn and Caribbean beats and would be welcome on more--and there's at least one moody ballad too many. But then an aqueous bassline bubbles up and a surge of trance-y pulses sweeps you along to Madonnaland, where introspection and abandon engage in erotic acts of self-actualization.

[2012 album, Shrines] was a fun record, like listening to Madonna at half speed with your face in a strobe light. Follow-up Another Eternity does little to expand this aesthetic, but for those who enjoy hearing top 40 pop sounds refracted through a funhouse mirror, that's probably not bad news.