Confirming everything that is great about Tom Rowlands and Ed Simons, Come with Us is equal measures driving rhythms and euphoric, widescreen melodies.

Bluesy, fragile and gorgeous.

A winning combo of thick club cuts, hands-in-the-air call-outs, pop ingenuity and a perfect balance of entertainment and realism in his rhymes.

Fans of the Icelandic wonder's more orchestral tunes might think there's something missing here. Well, unless they're too busy being totally blown away.

She might be unplugged--but she's still electrifying.

Z seems like just the beginning of a whole new phase.

The electric mood of Adams' sophomore disc definitely reflects his good fortunes and knack for solid songcraft.

The best tracks--"Crystal" and "Turn My Way"--sound like they were recorded in 1987.

Their whisper-thin, doo-wop harmonies, fuzzy guitars and barely-there percussion make the Strokes seem like Led Zeppelin. But that's not a bad thing.

Granted, Step doesn't have anything as effortlessly flawless as the classic single "Judith" from the band's last album, but it does have a number of songs ("Blue," "The Outsider") that are almost as bombastically beautiful.

More in line with his tighter debut, Pretty Hate Machine, With Teeth is made up of bursts of dark, scary and paranoid gut punches.

Rather than coming across as an unfriendly piece of self-indulgence--which may or may not have been the intention--her latest CD is quietly captivating.

While the trippy Scottish foursome's third disc may make a few nods to reality when it incorporates boring things like, you know, choruses and verses, songs like "Assessment" and "Liquid Bird"--all electronic gurgles and off-the-wall vocals--still wave the freak flag.

Amazingly solid.

The group sounds as wonderfully debauched, degenerate and dejected as ever.

Even if the divorcée flirts with being Sheryl Crow-y bland now, she can still let whip-smart lyrics flow with her potty mouth.

The results, much like last year's debut, Soul Sessions, are spine-tinglingly great--even if there is the slightest bit of bland Celine Dion balladry seeping in at the edge.

The end result is creative, inspired and, most important, individual.

The best he has sounded in years.

While St. Anger doesn't go back to the speedy, epic-crafting days of yesteryear, it's all balls: bad-ass rock and blistering, visceral lyrics.

Elvis Costello is back, bashing and clanging away at what he does best: delivering out vitriolic songs of curdled romance and sodden, soiled dreams.

The singer doesn't disappoint here, wringing out every strand of emotion in songs such as "Mississippi Girl," a strong return to her country roots.

Fans and Luddites will find much to treasure when dropping this platter on the Victrola.

But whether they're being snotty or serious, there is a constant thread at work: those catchy melodies.

With Musicology, the doctor of sexual funk puts the self-indulgence on hold and digs back into the enticing grooves and towering melodies of his glory years.

Interesting variations on classic pop music, delivered with fire and wisdom.

What sets Silent Alarm apart, however, is the presence of singer Kele Okereke, who has a dazzlingly elastic voice like the Cure's Robert Smith.

One man has made a beautifully subtle magic in his bedroom studio--and it will be heard on The O.C. in no time.