By delivering pert '60s-esue pop numbers with a twangy drawl, and by playing rockabilly riffs on torchy blues odes, Jack and Meg balance their divergent influences well.

Sisqo proves he's more than a flash in the pan.

There's nothing on this album quite like the guilty pleasure of "Candy," her textbook pop number from "So Real."

Neither Brit-pop nor hip-hop, "Gorillaz" contains a motley, dub-influenced collection of songs that are, like Hewlett's drawings, an exercise in sophisticated immaturity

High on boyish charm and low on moral fiber, Blink's songs have all the lyrical depth of a whoopee cushion.

Its touchy-feely lyrics maintain the brooding undercurrent that runs beneath the bulk of the band's catalogue.

Part torch song, part Broadway, part cabaret, "Poses" is as theatrical as its animated creator is in performance.

Sexsmith's gorgeous vocals and refined songwriting shine through.

"Amnesiac" deepens the mystery that Radiohead began with its curious, largely electronic 2000 release, "Kid A," and certainly won't satiate those awaiting the lauded band's supposed return to guitar-heavy epics.

Carpenter delivers a batch of reassuring songs -- about confidence in yourself and the world -- making you wish she'd check in a bit more often.

A typically bruised and beautiful collection of lovelorn ballads, Raymond Carveresque character studies and darkly romantic confessionals.

The electronics are intact, but rather than rely on monitors and keyboards to produce familiar sounds, Depeche Mode lifts its chin and puts vocals first for some surprisingly taut techno-balladry.... Still, old habits are hard to break, and "Exciter" carries a couple of ill-advised indulgences.

"Lateralus" is primarily a collection of puzzling time changes, haunting vocals and beyond-intricate percussive patterns that create a theme rooted more in Eastern philosophy than in rock and roll.

Deeply original? No. A rollicking, sing-along good time? Yes.

Clever rhythms, tricky harmonies and diverse musical reference points -- including the opening riff from Stevie Nicks' "Edge of Seventeen" -- frequently distract from the lyrical shortcomings.

The album's meticulous attention to detail never overshadows Jackson's frisky good mood.

But with gems like “Keep From Moving” and the country-tinged "Under the Tracks,” and even the vaguely disturbing, second-hand Bowie of “Lover’s Leap," the Creepers rein in their messier instincts, paring the proceedings down to smart, singalong and ultimately giddy jangle-pop.

It’s way too often here that everything new and interesting about two-step gets brushed aside for suspiciously lite jazz and limp mixes of dancefloor hits.

Much of the Painters’ power stems from Kozelek’s arresting voice, which meets its deep, moody match in the band’s exquisite renderings of rootsy gothic grace.

The music is rarely up to the task set by the lyrics. Truly successful union of melody and words occurs only twice—on the sparsely arranged stream of consciousness titled "Bonefields" and on the album's most original piece, "Another Plane Went Down," which teeters beautifully on the edge of dream and reality.

A sweet and sometimes bitter pack of world-weary bubblegum pop.

While nothing else on "Play" quite matches the slinky intimacy of its Top 10 single, "Jaded," every song has something to root for, whether it's the title track's inventive genre-shuffle, Tyler's spontaneous yodeling or the way "Under My Skin" continues the band's love of gender-bending.

Teetering between darkness and light, Hersh's somersaults have never been more compelling.

Sadly, what should have been a spirited old-school revival feels more like half-baked nostalgia.

Something of a mixed bag, "Production" teeters between grating aimlessness and uniquely dark, claustrophobically compressed runs through the Vocoder-happy lands of French house music.

Spoon is the best British band to come out of Austin, Texas.

An accessible, if far from revolutionary, work.

As unhurried and sonically majestic a slab as Low has ever produced.