The album impresses most for its lack of inhibitions.
While there’s something to be said for the risks that Scott Weiland takes here, too few of those risks actually work.
Country singer Trace Adkins continues to climb toward the genre’s A-list with X.
However poor her singing voice may be, she does possess a clear, if still immature, voice as an artist.
Galore makes for one of the most self-assured, strutting debuts in recent memory.
On Our Bright Future, Tracy Chapman tempers the social conscience that’s been her trademark with guarded, cautious optimism.
Play is an insightful, compelling and fantastically performed declaration of who Paisley is as an artist.
Albums about breakups don’t have to be downers.
As divorce albums go, no one will mistake Funhouse as a Blood on the Tracks-style emotional bloodletting.
That Don’t Make Me a Bad Guy offers occasional glimpses of the talent that deservedly made Toby Keith a star.
It reaffirms that it’s far more than just his name that makes Williams one of the genre’s most vital artists.
Acclaimed vocalist Lee Ann Womack’s seventh studio album, Call Me Crazy, is aptly named.
On Skeletal Lamping, Kevin Barnes offers something of a treatise on modern sexual politics.
It’s Costa’s performances that compensate for the album’s occasionally uninspired songwriting.
Perfect Symmetry is an album characterized by its heavy-handedness.
If We Ever Make It Home is certainly a strong enough record to put Bowen in the company of the genre’s most vital artists.
What Loyalty proves is that Cold War Kids were never likely to hold onto a wide audience.
There’s a weightless quality to the album that’s perhaps all too fitting with Pickler’s empty-headed shtick.
Snowflake Midnight manages to offer compelling surprises in its ever-shifting arrangements and its densely layered effects.
Too much of the album ignores what makes Lewis a compelling artist in favor of empty, not entirely successful style hopping.