The rich pop melodies and soft psychedelic touches of songs like "Empty Room" and "Waves" remind us of Coldplay and Grandaddy.

This is a fine final coda that's no tearjerker but a reminder of how much he matters right now.

Fun and fascinating.

Jet has more fun with songs like "Cold Hard B****" than most bands do during their entire careers.

Björk's latest is as delightfully eccentric as her choice in outfits, blending scratchy electronic programming with tinkling music boxes and squeezing her formidable voice into ancient-sounding harmonies or futuristic whispers.

It's a welcome change to the current hard-rock juggernaut.

The music is as fine as the pairing is strange.

A solo album to put all solo albums to shame.

Surprisingly bright and confident.

A welcome return.

Often thrilling, sometimes just interesting.

The sophisticated retro-pop sound, dreamy melodies and soft electronic beats of Ivy do more to further international relations than any George W. Bush visit could ever hope to.

There's no denying the music is ridiculously fun, as it bounces from Strokes-style garage riffs and Nirvana-esque angst to epic Brit-pop melodies and pop twists.

Yes, the melodies are a little sillier this time around, however the electro-funk grooves are doubly irresistible.

Michael Jackson's probably thinking, "Man, this is the album I should've made last year!"

Edgier and more experimental than its predecessors, The Garden also ramps up the chill factor.

Musically, the album bounces from a full-on urban polka ("Oblivion") to tracks with plenty of Apollo Showtime-style organs, horns and disco and funk elements that keep the wacky tales from sounding wack.

Sure, it has a slightly confusing air to it, but with lost gems like "Ali's Waltz" and "Beautiful World" popping up along the way, that's part of the fun.

A little bit less filler and the album would have really lived up to its name.

You'll love it.

43 minutes of thrills.

Employment is thrilling from beginning to end, packing in 45-minutes of exuberant Britpop melodies, na-na-na choruses and buzzsaw guitars that make Franz Ferdinand look like a bunch of stiffs.

As leftovers go, this Album is refreshingly tasty.

Wonderfully soothing, late-night music that is simply beautiful.

It's a downer, sure, but if you've got the patience, this disc's subtle meditations have a way of working themselves into your heart.

Nostalgic without sounding outdated, it's one bash worth revisiting.

In essence, it's a younger, fitter and infinitely hipper version of what Moby is doing.

There are times when Conrad Keely's scabrous vocals are more grating than ingratiating, but this is mainly stunning stuff.