Evanescence's self-titled third album captures each party elevating the other far above where their proclivities would get them on their own.

Donkey favors texture over attitude, and while the boozy, shouted choruses remain, CSS now favors a subtler approach.

On his third and finest CD in 16 short months, the Florida-based MC has emerged as one of hip-hop's best by dropping unvarnished, aggressive songs with unsparing detail.

Clarkson can, of course, sell all of this and sounds great doing it. But the cumulative effect of all that bigness can be wearing by album’s end.

When all of it works in perfect synch, the record hits a sweet spot that is both nostalgic and completely contemporary, illuminating how forward-looking the cross-continental collaborators were at their peak.

Surely someday, Of Monsters and Men, the successful, melodic pop band from Iceland, will actually burrow beneath the skin and reveal genuine depth, but the pleasures of this, their second record, remain mostly on the surface.

Magic Moment easily meets the primary requirement of any Christmas album, which is that it's a worthwhile addition to his fans' collections.

It's a cluttered affair with bleeping, buzzing lows (harshly ambient tracks like "Straightjacket" and "Versions of Violence") and a handful of humble high points in a pair of lovely piano ballads.

Unsurprisingly, they double down on Drones to satisfying effect. That means broad strokes, big beats, and expertly placed electronic filips and vocal processing as the band explores its big themes in ways both satisfyingly corrosive, such as the speedy metal riffage of “Reapers,” and oddly saccharine, as on the somewhat corny and generic uplift of “Revolt.” Muse fares better when churning out inspiring head bangers where nuance isn’t a major factor.

Shelton continues to shine as a singer, especially on the heartfelt "I'm Sorry'' and the title track, a tender duet with wife Miranda Lambert.

He smartly revisits songs from Bruce Springsteen ('The Hitter') and, for those who miss the raw, hungry Jones, he delivers a roaring rendition of Tommy James & the Shondell's 'I'm Alive.'

While Folds has antic down to an art, Way to Normal sometimes wilts a bit under the weight of that jittery, borderline venomous energy, spilling into an angry place that may be honest but can be discomfiting.

With little more than plinking and repetitive, if deliriously catchy keyboard riffs, straightforward dance-punk beats, and jocular vocal whimsy, their third record keeps the party going hard - even if it's more the cake-and-ice-cream variety.

Not surprisingly, its revisitations and recombinations are more or less of a piece with the approach of the earlier full-length, and they're far from leftovers.

On his fourth album, the Arizona-born artist continues to impress on one well-written song after another.

The crossover “Make It Out This Town” is too obvious a stab at pop psychology and chart topping but that’s a rare misfire. The set is filled with quotable lines and tough but inviting beats.

The lyrics -- which seesaw manically between exhortations to a no-goodnik to get out and purrings about being glad to have a lover by her side -- won't get nominated for any poetry awards, but Gray makes her case on the strength of her nutty soul charms.

Simpson has always been the most appealingly self-aware of her pop-tart peers, and for the most part, she works wisely within her simple, spunky skill set.

The album finds the group covering some favorite songs and tying them together with its own rootsy flair.

Certainly an orchestra is a big enough umbrella, but some of the songs--from both the Police and Sting's solo career--definitely end up getting wet.

Divorcing the music from its maker and inspirations can pose varying degrees of difficulty. But listeners who can imprint themselves on these songs will find much to enjoy in Stefani’s Truth.

Much of Somewhere sounds remarkably consistent, even organic. Tyler, who co-wrote all of the album’s strongest material, proves a solid storyteller with a gift for melody.

It adds up to a record that's full of charm, but you wonder about its sticking power. Asa still feels like a tremendous talent who could stand to take more risks.

For the most part, it works well and sounds fresh.

Even his derivative muddles exhibit such an irresistible zing that you find yourself laughing at and singing along to and not worrying that maybe his heroes did it first and did it better.

A few tracks don’t feel lived in, as Glover relies too much on technique instead of feel. On songs like the Mike Will Made It-produced “Passenger,” though, she delivers vivid performances.

Forget the salacious material; you come away from Untitled marveling at his craftsmanship. When he’s on his game, no modern R&B artist even approaches the Chicago veteran (here working with various producers).

The Pixies sound like a band again on Indie Cindy. From time to time, they even sound like the Pixies.