Throughout Earth Suck, Oozing Wound manage to deliver biting criticisms and headbanging riffs with their tongues in their cheeks, without either losing the power of the music or biting those tongues clean off.

[The L.A. song, “Outside”] manages to capture some of the essence of the West Coast city, but the details of “canyons” and “sirens” seem hollow, lack insight, and reek of lyrics that were hammered out on instinct, not careful consideration. This kind of a songwriting experiment keeps the Sonic Highways album from being essential listening. It’s more of a failed experiment, a diversion from a real Foo Fighters album.

Haerts is a frequently catchy mastery of tried-and-true sounds, but ultimately there’s not much that deviates from the sugary, straightforward formula that caused the group to explode in the first place.

Lost Loves isn’t without its charms, but it’s a frustrating listen that represents another self-imposed hurdle in the band’s development.

Stateless is just one extended mood, which also makes it the least mysterious Dirty Beaches record to date.

While they stick fairly close to that line most of the time, the effort takes some of the wild energy and fun out of the results.

Rip This is a step forward, but it’s a small, staggered one.

Honor is a healthy step back in the right direction, but there’s also no chance of it blossoming into a late-career classic.

Ultimate Painting is professionally executed, but at times underwhelming. Still, Cooper and Hoare have undeniable chemistry, and the album seems to be the start of a promising partnership.

We’re left with a decent covers album that will probably fare better than their Dark Side tribute.

The production and playing are beautiful throughout the album, and Yusuf’s voice remains remarkably preserved, still able to instantly spring from gentle introspection to emphatic eruptions. The record as a whole does suffer, though, from certain cover choices.

It’s a unique recording, a shocking, exciting collaboration performed in full faith. But it too often fails to be more than the sum of its parts.

Fans of the label and the genre will find many familiar elements to love, but anyone expecting the LCD tree to sprout an overwhelmingly exciting new limb will likely be disappointed.

Tough Love relies more on gravitas, allowing more space for overly serious numbers like the Emile Haynie-produced “Pieces”. Sometimes sweetness works better.

.5: The Gray Chapter may not win over new fans to the rest of their catalog, but it’s enough to open the eyes of those of us who haven’t given Slipknot a second thought in 10 years.

Trick might not be a must-have album for working DJs across the tech-house scene, but it’s an earnest passion project that will once again bring some new faces into the worlds of dance music and indie alike.

Neither Art Official Age nor PLECTRUMELECTRUM aims to be a legendary Prince record, but both hit their marks anyway.

Neither Art Official Age nor PLECTRUMELECTRUM aims to be a legendary Prince record, but both hit their marks anyway.

Zola Jesus has a firm grip on the magnificence her songs can accomplish. Without the threat of failure, though, that beauty runs too smooth.

The album is an interesting but probably forgettable footnote in the history of one of the most influential bands of the 21st century.

Bazaar lacks a cohesive thread to signify any real musical progression.

Yorke chose a modest delivery method for a modest album, hinting that the real goods have yet to come.

Their many-layered universes, however, spiral without building to a truly dramatic moment, either within each part or between the parts of the whole.

The problem is The History of Apple Pie managed to fork over 10 songs of generic, sugared pop that’s almost entirely forgettable by the time dinner rolls around.

It’s an album you can approach and recognize even if you haven’t kept up with the recent catalog, but it might not set your heart alight.

Their voices complement each other and mesh together almost seamlessly, and on tracks like the big-sounding “I Won’t Dance”, it’s hard not to smile at the perfectly executed harmony. Covers of slower tunes like “Nature Boy” don’t really offer much that’s different or new, but they’re beautiful and engaging nonetheless.

Lerche’s playful expressions of heartbreak capture those [emotional] extremes with competent, if rote, poise, even if a few of his experiments fall flat.

It’s a mixed bag, but an overall pleasant and inoffensive one.