Lucky for him, he has Lisa Hannigan on board on several tracks in this album--her breathtaking vocals almost manage to make this take of epic heartbreak to the backdrop of Irish lullabies worthwhile. Almost.

Think Tank is an uneven album that only those with a very open mind and a big love for the band will be able to stomach.

It's like you're listening to the same tempo and volume for 52.5 minutes when you really wanted a variety show.

Without the emotional resonance of Martin's voice at its most free, Coldplay's brilliantly minimal musical foundation has nothing to support. So it falters.

Even with all the enjoyable tracks, many of the choices SV makes with their production will keep some fans scratching their heads.

There just isn't enough memorable music here.

The Rising is a tiresome battle between the sheer spirit that Bruce and his sidekicks invest in their work and the material itself, which is underwritten and overproduced.

In the moments when Shaddix's voice and lyrics don't detract from the band's remarkable bluster, Papa Roach soars.

God Loves Ugly ends up as the worst kind of inconsistent album--inconsistent not because of any lack of knowledge, creativity or heart on the part of the artists, but because they can't decide whether they want to use that knowledge to showcase their own voice or mimic someone else's.

Untouchables ends up heavy on stadium rock bluster, with precious little of the musical texture and intricacy that made Follow the Leader one of the few transcendent albums of its genre.

Most of it is pretty middle-of-the-road female singer-songwriter tripe.

Frankly, this is total yuppie shit--competent and unobtrusive.

The experimentation of tracks like "Off You" and "Put on a Side" show that Kim Deal and co. aren't concerned with reproducing past success, but also shows that they are entirely capable of producing the same interesting song structures and pop pleasures that we have come to expect.

It still wouldn’t come off so badly if Moby took his old sounds and improved them, but he doesn’t.

A new set of hard-driving war cries that aren’t all that different from yesterday’s, but different enough to be entertaining while somewhere short of inspiring.

The work is unfocused and sounds as if Buffalo Daughter is trying to be novel.

Not everything about Imbruglia’s second album is as bad as most critics would like to make it.

The overwhelming majority of this album is unbelievably annoying dance pop.

Barricades and Brickwalls paints a broad spectrum of alt.country/ bluegrass/honkytonk music, and that variety is its greatest strength.

For pleasant, albeit unchallenging pop-tunes which will not offend anyone, but may also put you to sleep, Your Majesty is the way to go.