Comes with the same muscular, confrontational power that made The Sickness so infectiously exciting, but twists things just enough to make the second time sounds as fresh as the first.

The tunes here are full of immediately memorable, if not obvious, hooks, and the vocals capture a tenderness and vulnerability he's never before revealed.

With Night Works, the gung-ho Layo and Bushwacka! have made an intelligent album that doesn't stray too much from it's shadowy overall mood, aided by determined breakbeats and drawn-out orchestral sounds.

A good chunk of soulful melody tinged with delightful, lackadaisical vocals and reggae vibrations.

Sleek and motorized, gusgus has paid close Attention to detail in etching a metallic mural of current interests.

The most disappointingly safe alternative album of the year.

Sheik... seems uncomfortable with the slicker presentation.

The smoothed-out international pop sound lets Beenie focus on doing what he does best -- making party music for party people.

Carefully written, elegantly performed, and generously emotional, it's another work by an artist still at his creative peak.

Trinity is a more diverse album than their last, but there are times when the songs feel too disjointed.

It's a richly textured album, often filled with a melancholy that suits Moorer's dark, rich voice just perfectly.

A feast of post-punk and seminal house.

Faces and Names' new sonic explorations are a welcome change from the early '90s alt-rock sound Soul Asylum had bludgeoned into the ground, though the lyrics here don't approach Pirner's best.

The album as a whole isn't quite as brilliant as it ought to be, given the ideas at play.

Daybreaker's more conventional nature puts a greater and more intriguing challenge on Orton's vocal cords to be the album's main instrument; that voice, a breathless cry that falls somewhere between Natalie Merchant and Bjork, is more than equal to the task.

The only misstep is in the pacing.

There's artistic maturation, and there's just plain old selling out. This, friends, is a prime example of the latter.

As on Hybrid Theory, there's a definite formula at work in all 19 songs, but it's flawless and effective.

Both sober and celebratory, The Rising makes a strong case for the transcending power of rock and roll.

Okay, call it a comeback, because it ought to raise Burke's profile higher than it's been in decades.

This time, their quiet storm sounds like it's lost its thunder. There are no big emotional booms on the ballad-heavy album, just a confluence of harmless little raindrops and heartstring tugs.

Its tight-as-a-drum musicianship and the sense of threadbare vulnerability resonating in singer-guitarist Kevin Palmer's songs elevate the band above the ever-expanding pack of like-minded acts.

Spending the last decade releasing mediocre discs with great tracks surrounded by filler, Public Enemy returns with an album reminiscent of Fear of a Black Planet.

As cohesive and potent as Everyday or anything else in the DMB's catalog

While Dreamland is a dignified, pleasant album, you can't help but give the edge to 1975.

Highly Evolved is clunkiest on long, drawn-out stuff like "Homesick" and "Country Yard," but singer Craig Nicholls has most of Kurt Cobain's shrieking mannerisms down, and, like most grunge, the band's simple three-chord rock is most exciting when played extremely fast.

After fifteen years of continually blossoming brilliance, the Flaming Lips can count themselves among the most essential American bands in rock history.

The album finds footing in jazzy downbeat arrangements, and its hip-hop aftertaste gives Charango (and Morcheeba as an entity) a needed one-two punch.