It sticks with what Jimmy Eat World have always done, but it sounds better than anything that preceded it.

Where Stellastarr's debut hits the jackpot is in their gutsy decision to wipe the slate clean by declaring the years 1981 to 1996 a single era, synthesizing the sounds of that fifteen year stretch by playing every band on the soundtrack to a mid-eighties John Hughes gem with the knowledge of the nineties college rock boom.

They won't matter in a year, or even six-months...but for the time being, Ima Robot are an utterly entrancing and joyously frivolous antidote to those pre-winter blues.

The Coxon-less Blur is a less focused Blur, but Albarn, James and Rowntree can still pull moments of sterling derision from beneath the fog.

Hotel Morgen doesn't change a thing, and really, with results this consistent, it shouldn't have to.

The downside here will be fairly obvious to anyone familiar with Thirlwell's previous output. While Flow's integration of big band jazz and other "external" musical styles is some of Thirlwell's most accomplished work to date -- creditable not only to better technology, but to the growth of his already respectable skills as a conventional composer -- its thematic elements remain the same.

Margerine Eclipse isn't a revelation, but it offers a number of minor departures from the established Stereolab standard -- and given the weighty expectations that surround each new 'Lab album, that's probably the best we can hope for.

It's nowhere near as interesting as Ghost of Fashion or Your Favorite Music, but it has its own tranquil, slow-burning charm.

The music is comfortable, lacking the self-conscious over-rehearsed feeling of other new bands.

Despite some great moments... L'Avventura never quite comes into its own -- there just aren't enough perfect Phillips/Wareham moments here to cash in on Romantica's promise.

Attention is a bubbly, pleasurable confection of an album, with beats enough to move your ass and plenty of hooks to keep your, um, attention.

If there's anything wrong with Life On Other Planets, it's that the band really isn't branching out at all -- and when you get to your fourth album, it's hard to sound as fresh and vital as you once did if you aren't trying anything new.

Most of the excesses inherent to the subject matter and songwriting style are cumulative; if you take A Mark track by track, it's quite an accomplished set of (admittedly similar) songs.

Walking emphasizes songwriting over gimmickry; even divorced from the studio fireworks, the tunes are engaging, hummable, memorable, and will only grow more so with repeat spins.

The 90 degree turns between tracks are endearing, like a cool mix-tape -- not cause for head scratching and folded arms.

Although Sound-Dust's revisionist zeal is mostly exhausted by the thirty minute mark, its spirit is alive and well in the album's streamlined production aesthetic. Rarely, if ever, are these songs muddied by an obvious surplus of musical ideas.

The band's greatest success is their ability to craft unassuming, enjoyable revival rock numbers with clever lyrics, recalling their musical forebears without ever descending to cliché.

The impromptu feel is often charming and sometimes campy, but always sincere.

If you think too hard about a record like this, you'll probably be ashamed to own it. Let's be honest: despite its Eastern rhythms, intricate melodies and exotic instrumentation, it's basically a yuppie sex record.

It's definitely a departure from their earlier albums -- or, more precisely, an evolution -- but in no way did they drop the ball. Instead, they may now be playing a different game.

Although they don't quite hit the emotional peaks and valleys of some of the tracks on labelmates Mojave 3's last disc, they've got a similarly fetching combination of lush music, terrific voices and sad but hopeful songs.

The band refuses to stick to simple, repetitive rhythms; the guitars regularly squeal with feedback, humming with distortion as they lay down thick 'n' meaty power chords.