The ballads are nice enough, in a syrupy, overwrought way. But slamming dance songs have always been Beyoncé's strength, so it's no surprise that the "Sasha Fierce" half of the album is the better showing.

City of Refuge is an eerie, archaic record, and even the CD version sounds as though there's years of thick dust packed into the grooves.

In the context of such a refreshing, instantly likable album, even the abstract linking tracks work, breaking up the 13 sugary full-length songs and allowing each to be unwrapped and savored individually.

Midnight Boom" opens with its excellent first two singles, "U.R.A. Fever" and the danceable "Cheap And Cheerful," and from there things get pretty sleepy until the cheerfully blown-out "M.E.X.I.C.O.," a 97-second anthem so catchy that you'll get a callous on your thumb from skipping back to it.

Holland's airy, electronic pop music with layers of vocals. It's pleasant enough, though it's not as compelling as March of the Zapotec.

Those nostalgic for a '70s arena-rock past they were too young to experience can live it with this album.

On her second album under the name A Camp, Persson drapes herself in breezy '60s-pop arrangements, lamb's-wool duds that dress some deadly ideas.

Hammond's lyrics and vocals aren't as distinctive as those favored by Strokes singer Julian Casablancas, but the guitarist's music breathes in ways Strokes songs don't.

His voice is as yearning and creaky as ever, at once aged and childlike, and if the music doesn't always have a lot of weight, Lytle's songwriting remains pleasantly distracting on the surface and thoughtfully sublime upon closer inspection.

Although she finds some niches to distinguish her wild side from the likes of Gretchen Wilson - the romp "Down," for example - Lambert's abandon is never quite reckless.

The highs aren't as high on "Sam's Town," but it's a better album overall.

A carefully manicured, but still lively assortment that highlights her substantial vocal strengths.

The band reassembles its signature elements and evaporates concerns about age by showing some fresh spring-loaded party pop.

Songs bleed into each other and meander all over, underscoring David Kesler's spidery writing with crackling, sample-laced arrangements.

What's experimental for K-Os is not necessarily new. That caveat aside, his willingness to add a few new tunes to his hymnal make this album, in many respects, the "Joyful Rebellion" he boasted about before.

Sparse arrangements enhance the material's mood and texture, which range from the chipper instrumental splashes that color a revision of her iconic 'Big Yellow Taxi' to the supple pulse that lends a meandering flow to the hopeful, grounded meditation of the title track.

Some may be turned off by his showy leads and somewhat cheesy sentiments, but those are the very things that hooked longtime fans in the first place.

There is occasional resemblance here to the drowsy Memphis vibe on Cat Power's 2006 album, "The Greatest," but Sykes' tour [of] the soul is both grittier and spookier.

Despite the subtly uplifting message, Lucky lacks the emotional heft of the former.

There are a few clunkers, and the three songs sung by other band members don't add much, but the so-called "Red Album" is better for its unevenness.

His sun-and-fun lyrics can be saccharine and anachronistic, but his complete lack of artifice helps to sell the sticky likes of 'Forever She'll Be My Surfer Girl.'

As shimmering and energetic as anything the group released during its late-'80s prime.

It's a poignant record, but McCartney balances his recollections with reminders that life is still about what's happening here and now.

Longtime fans may accuse the band of losing its edge with age, but The Lucky Ones is still an exciting and efficient bridge between the Stooges' growling ruckus and Nirvana's noisy pop anthems.

It’s a strong album, but The Big Doe Rehab grows wearying by the end, like pounding Red Bull to stay up all night debating whether there ever were any weapons of mass destruction.

Not every missile here reaches its target, but the older, wiser Dears will remain darlings of all who keep hearts affixed firmly to their sleeves.

A collection of sleepy, emotionally blunt songs that feel whispered from the wee hours.

It's by far his most personal album, but "Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?" keeps the self-absorption to a minimum, in favor of vivid descriptions and up-tempo music that's catchy and engaging regardless of whether you're invested in the difficult back story.