His gruff voice may have earned him comparisons to Tom Waits and Captain Beefheart in the past, but let's face it: Everlast is treading awfully close to Neil Diamond territory here. Salvation, as always, comes in the grooves. Eat at Whitey's is instrumentally opulent, adding cushioned layers of percussion and vintage keyboards to the familiar blues-hop template that launched "What It's Like."

There's little in the way of cohesion or artistic forethought here, and some of the tracks are just bad, though nothing is as surpassingly awful as lead single "Rollin'," its shout-outs overly reminiscent of "Bawitdaba."

With Bedlam Ballroom, the Squirrel Nut Zippers sound rejuvenated. The musty '20s and '30s influences that made their previous endeavors sound occasionally laughable now crackle with ornery energy.

But just as a couple of cool originals on its debut distinguished Orgy from the Antichrist Superstar cover bands current working the bar circuit, if only slightly, so too do a clutch of strong tunes on this, its second album.

Shopping Trolley is a fun, for-the-fans work with a heavy dosage of otherwise unavailable rarities. It's safe to say, however, that casual listeners looking for Gomez's Philips [TV commercial] appeal are not best served here. Try 1998's Bring It On instead.

This disc is that rare combination of substance (both musically and lyrically) and fun. For those who thought the Cherry Poppin' Daddies were a one-hit, one-dimensional wonder, Soul Caddy will be a pleasant surprise.

Breach is equal parts likeable, lyrical jamming, and inflated mediocrity. The Wallflowers achieve their most noteworthy moments in their uptempo, instrumentally thick songs, such as the first track, "Letters from the Wasteland," and "Sleepwalker." When the band leans hard on lyrics as the primary stability of a song, the album falters a bit ("Witness," for example, is slow and tedious).

It's a tribute to Williams' almost delusional self-confidence that he sounds equally at home no matter what the musical form; he invests each track with an energy many of them don't deserve.

With 18 songs that clock in at over 63 minutes, The Hour of Bewilderbeast meanders too much, and the quirky pacing (there are many random instrumental interludes) makes it difficult to enjoy as a whole. But taken in sections, it's a bit of a grower.

With Kid A, Radiohead has made the ultimate 3 a.m. stoner-headphone album, one that marks an entirely logical progression from -- if not necessarily an improvement upon -- the techno-but-not-really O.K. Computer.... Occasionally, it feels less like a rock record and more like a museum piece, and as a work of art, it's laudable. As an actual, listener-friendly offering, it leaves something to be desired: It's precisely the sort of record a band makes when it has endless amounts of time and money, and has spent long periods of time being told what geniuses its members are.

Their simplest, softest sound yet. While 1997's The Fawn thrived in tender disarray, this 10-track outing sparkles with a warm and graceful confidence.

Simon aims his melodies outside the box this time around, incorporating world-beat rhythms and working his sublimely dour mood to best advantage.

Sailing to Philadelphia, the singer's guest-star-heavy sophomore outing, is a deliberate, grown-up record (in a season which has seen a pronounced lack of adult offerings) that feels -- heavily in places -- like Dire Straits: Five Years Later.

Of course, despite experimentation, Revelation is bloated with ballads.

Golden Lies shows that even when a good band goes bad, it can still make a great record.

Throughout the mix, Oakenfold follows the proven formula of prefacing more beat-heavy, climactic tracks -- such as Max Graham's "Airtight" and Tone Depth's "Majestic" -- with otherworldly vocals-only tracks by Dead Can Dance and Sabel, among others. The build-up is no doubt effective on the dance floor -- where Oakenfold excels -- but the effect sounds a bit repetitive after the first few occurrences.

A thoroughly modern, introspective album... The lush sound of earlier Go-Betweens albums has been traded for simpler, more restrained instrumentation even when accented with cello and violin.

With its brand of easily accessible pop rock, the Austin, Texas-based trio presents an extremely likable musical front that's based more upon influence than innovation.

Music is a weaker record than its predecessor, with only a few tracks possessing the strength, pop sensibility, and hooks that made Ray of Light such a success.

Solaris is like no Photek album you've ever heard before: It's an album that celebrates both dance and relaxation, touching on deep house, trip-hop, and ambient, with (gasp) only one drum-and-bass track (the typically spare "Infinity"). Sentimentality for his musical roots and the desire to create music with a warmer, more human feel drive Photek on these 11 disparate tracks, and the outcome is mixed.

It's a bit uneven, but you would be hard-pressed to find better runway music this year.

Aguilera needs more than a just crash course in Spanish -- she needs a good translator (some songwriting help wouldn't hurt, either).

Her triumphant, long-awaited Righteous Love is no carbon copy of Relish, but that's because Osborne, who's always demonstrated open ears, has continued to develop as an artist and take on additional influences.

Purists may find Jones' stuffy-nosed tone and tics of phrasing objectionable, yet she reaches directly into the heart of each classic in intimate readings.

The songs don't vary a great deal dynamically. Harris' lyrics set Red Dirt Girl apart.

Despite its obvious classic-rock feel, what could have felt like a novelty album -- a tired K-Tel collection of long-forgotten hits -- feels like a revelation in places.

The album is haunted by echoes from both Marr and Sumner's past lives, which dates it a bit. But the duo shows a rare aggressive side on the album, which crackles with attitude even while indulging Sumner's moony, depressive lyrics.

Although most tracks don't stray far from the studio versions (aside from a few typical chants and rants from Hyde and a nice transition or two), Everything Everything is a must-have as a milestone in the life of the band.