Basically, this is the definitive (if incomplete) version of a landmark release.

One of the most refreshing hip-hop records in quite some time.

Shadow simply holds together better than recent Jurado efforts.

What keeps Nastasia from succumbing to grotesque melodrama is the razor-like incisiveness she brings to her lyrics.

Carter's sulky obsession with proving himself against a field that has all but laid down and acknowledged him as its master detracts from the hard-won grandeur wrought by this nostalgic magnum opus of self-regard (to say nothing of the engaging beats and typically nimble rhymes).

Gentle harmonies and twinkling keys dot most every track, and Conor Deasy's relaxed vocals never get in the way of the band's engaging melodies.

Lost and Safe is an expression of two artists who are neither lost nor playing it safe.

In terms of sheer Freddie Mercury bravado and guitar-shredding, genre-jumping prog-rock pomposity, this stirring record is indeed (forgive me) something of a revelation.

One Plus One Is One may not sparkle with surprising brilliance, as Bewilderbeast did, but it is certainly the most thematically and musically grounded album Gough has yet created.

In sticking close to home, Vanderslice has crafted his finest album yet.

Her Majesty rewards repeated listenings, ultimately revealing itself to be a deeper, subtler work than Castaways.

But if Uh Huh Her doesn't rise to the level of Harvey's best work, it does possess a grim, unvarnished beauty; a beauty that, while it might repel a few of the fans she gained with Stories, capably rewards devotees of her earlier, unburnished and uncompromising works.

At 23 tracks (including two strong bonus cuts at the end), One Word Extinguisher simply tries to say too much, dragging noticeably during the final third, thus weakening the final impact.

Its many high points and its sheer diversity (think of it as the ultimate pre-assembled mix tape) are enough to gloss over any minor transgressions.

Grinderman might actually be Cave’s sappy hopeless romantic testament. That he accomplishes it without orchestral arrangements and mopey strings is truly impressive.

A warm, gently beautiful album that rewards the patient listener.

The butter-drenched vocal harmonies can be overwhelming in spots, but each of the principals involved brings enough of his songwriting savvy to the table to make The Thorns a guilty pleasure of pure California dreamin'.

Crimes is guilty of nothing save exhibiting the sound of a band that clearly isn't finished evolving.

Twin Cinema has the winning distinction of being the most rocking set from the Pornographers to date -- and also the strangest.

May well come to be regarded as Mogwai's graduation from unproven Young Team to mature, veteran rock outfit.

The Grind Date is the sound of a rejuvenated heavyweight who may have lost his belt but has in no way has conceded the fight.

While The Lemon of Pink might not sport individual tracks as strong as [Thought For Food's] "Enjoy Your Worries, You May Never Have Them Again" or "All Bad Ends All," it's nonetheless a stronger effort overall, revealing a band growing in confidence with the application of its ideas.

Despite losing creative momentum down the stretch, it’s still a remarkably affecting and mature record, proof that Chan Marshall kicks off the second act of her career in top form.

The Pernice Brothers' strongest effort yet.

Perhaps the album's most remarkable feat is its utter lack of density: One never gets the sense that anything excessive or unnecessary was utilized in constructing its sonic brickworks.

Atomic Bomb is a reduction of U2's most definable characteristics into a very basic formula: impassioned vocals lent extra gravity by Bono's wavering voice; guitars that chime like bells; thick, meaty rhythm section workouts; slowly seductive hooks that build to triumphant, emotional, endorphin-releasing choruses. And on that level, it succeeds admirably.

The group has lost some of the accessibility of You Forgot it in People, which wore its heart on its sleeve with fewer emotional contradictions, but has maintained the same emotional neediness at the previous album's heart.

Rather than leaning on his appealingly gruff Neil Diamond pipes to articulate personal stories of drunkenness and hardscrabble redemption, Bachmann takes a more imaginative approach here.