The soundtrack to the film--which contains that "Better Man"--is for those hardcore fans. There's no "Jeremy," "Daughter" or "Even Flow" here.

The formula remains largely the same, although the group adds some production tricks, dialing down the perv factor and turning up some extra chirps and bloops they haven't used before.

If the songs go down too easy, that's part of the deal -- monster hooks or guitar freakouts would only upset the balance Pernice has taken a decade to perfect.

It's the tension between Homme's conflicting impulses that pressurizes Lullabies to Paralyze's highest points and accounts for its lows.

The band still tends to overplay: Its fussiness undercuts the strongest of the new tracks, "You Never Know," even as the singer reaches for some falsetto salvation.

Vanderslice could stand to brighten his outlook (if not his production) a bit, but many of these rambling-man ballads are plenty pretty.

Seductive though Linkous' cushy, narcotic patter can be, his slower songs... feel like they're floating in an ocean of sleepiness.

What it lacks are top-quality tunes.

This third full-length album continues to mine past gold, integrate rock and jazz elements, and work Maxwell's beautifully supple vocals around old-school styles.

Bless ‘em for their ambition, and too bad it didn’t yield more than this muddled set.

This is a missed opportunity--there aren’t many artists out there right now hurling out James Brown-like screams over dissonant, programmed beats--and it’s indicative of the overall timidity at work on Young Sick Camellia.

Like many Modest Mouse records, The Golden Casket sounds cluttered and that’s likely how they want it. They never define what “the golden casket” is on the album, but too often, it seems like the phrase might be a metaphor for their own hermetically sealed instincts.

Rateliff can be guilty of overwriting, as in the jumble of raging-wildfire images that drag down "Still Out There Running." His husky voice can lack the suppleness of classic soul singers; when he taps into his inner Sam Cooke on the dusky "Babe I Know," he sounds more fatigued than uplifted. Yet even when he overshoots, Rateliff's restless throwback sound feels like it's moving toward real revelations.

Isn't quite as transportingly charming as their past couple. [Jun 2022, p.74]

You might feel like you've heard some of Here's to Taking It Easy before, but Houck is skillful enough that you probably won't mind hearing it again.

Her slow, earnest songs... don't have the texture of those from her three previous albums.

His weakness is his words. Lerche clearly puts effort into his poetry, but the results are often vague, and at worst they suggest a nonsensical translation of what might have been eloquent in the singer's native tongue.

On Amerie's fourth album, she excels at getting in your face without overdosing on divatude — not much excessive Beyoncé-size vocalizing here.

Don't expect emotion for the ages, and you'll have fun with this.

The songwriting has never been stronger or more eclectic.

The singing is more mature than the self-consciously retro arrangements and sometimes thin sonics.

A bunch of hysterically funny, shamelessly political and musically intense pop tunes.

Endlessly obsessed with damned dames and the fugitive life, Kilmister remains most powerful at his most apocalyptic.

Kingdom of Rust is wonderfully dolorous, but when Doves rev up the tempos on tracks like 'The Outsiders,' they show they're not a total pity party.

Sure, there’s a touch of hypocrisy in a guy as gloriously tacky as Al taking shots at the shameless but who really cares when it’s this much fun.

She's always had an impressionistic vision of R&B, but this isn't just a curveball for the hell of it; she uses escapist tracks (written with guys like David Guetta and Jean Baptiste) to realist ends.

Viet Cong hardly shy away from evoking that tragedy, and at times they seem to still be processing its long-term impact.

As a document, it's hard to refute; a track like "Pearl's Girl" keeps unfolding into different layers of aural spotlessness, finally tapering into silence.... But when the crowd does explode, divining the flow, the home listener feels left out of the party.