Things improve considerably when the pair abandons the preening street-cred game; Moffat and Middleton seem finally to realize that if they're going to make a love record they might as well not half-ass it.

"Everything Is Under Control" is worth a download, and Saul Williams's spoken-word performance on "Mr. Nichols" is worth noting, but how much of this record has been done before and how much of it will be done again? What Coldcut mix can you say the same about?

The most apt comparison would be Dylan's more recent comeback albums; if not quite the masterpiece of Love and Theft, it beats the hell out of anything McCartney, Jagger or Simon have put out in the last fifteen years.

Those who choose to fixate on Bejar's lack of a pretty singing voice are missing the point. Much like John Darnielle, everything outside of Bejar's verse should be seen as peripheral -- a means to deliver the lyrical ends.

Had this been Dilated's second album, I probably would have found it a lot more entertaining. But it's not, and the moments of originality were few.

Man Man's music will irritate you, make you laugh, put you off and then bring you back for more.

This album is so ripe with hubristic self regard and musical monotony that most of its worth gets crossed out.

What's lacking this time around is the cohesiveness of the Konono No. 1 record.

A Sunday-nap headphone-record that successfully conveys emotion.

Only a few moments stand out.

[The] most unexpectedly superb album so far this year.

Polysics is not cute. It is rock and/or roll.

Mostly, this record is yet another reason to wish that people with real talent would stop throwing it away.

What makes the Subways stand apart with their brand of angst-ridden, razor garage-rock guile is that they truly sound like teenagers.

A predictable, oversimplified, boring mess.

A thoroughly enjoyable and well-crafted album of mid-tempo soul.

Unexceptional and devoid of charm, The Tourniquet is, on the whole, disposable.

There's still plenty about the group to satisfy long-time fans, and there's a wealth of quality and innovation to win them some new ones.

Most of these tracks stumble around Dick Valentine's wacky lyrics, and the limited karaoke-style production only cheapens the equation.

It's a much warmer album than her most recent album, 2002's Daybreaker, and it's perhaps her most complete album yet.

Ultimately, however, The Minus 5 is the indie-rock equivalent of Ocean's Twelve. Everyone involved is clearly having a blast, and the result for the audience is often infectious. But just as often it is distancing, like watching footage of someone else's birthday party.

For all the bravado of its title, Destroy Rock & Roll is in fact a neat, listenable trip.

Security Screenings is a solid record, one that will probably sound much better in the context of Prefuse 73's catalog twenty years from now than we'll ever give it credit for today.

Aceyalone can't do it by himself, and by finding a kindred musical spirit in RJD2, he manages to make an album as expansive as his talent continually hints at.

Simplicity works here, and even though the album may not have a clear direction, the array of song topics is catchy enough to make this alt-rock/indie/country/folk experience work.

Donuts is a big black pot of sonics, comparable only to Madlib's 2002 effort, Blunted in the Bombshelter, the difference being that this is all original material.

This is a brief, refreshing escape from the trend-channeling that seems to have replaced genuineness.

Mostly, the record displays a jump closer to American hip-hop in both production styles and rhyming, and the urgency that was so palpable on the first installment is gone.