Keys isn’t quite a superwoman come to save R&B from itself, but the timeless quality of As I Am is right on time.
Taking Chances is the album Clive Davis probably wishes Kelly Clarkson had made.
There’s still nothing very “exclusive” about Exclusive at all.
It became apparent pretty quickly that Lennox is a bit mad—in the best possible way, of course.
Bat for Lashes’s music feels like some lost specter that’s fortuitously wandered into your home and can’t help but haunt you.
The best teen drama of all time finally gets a worthy release.
On a hit-to-miss scale, Blackout scores well, and its hotness quotient is remarkably high.
As with almost every Radiohead album, there are moments of brilliance, inventiveness, and surprise.
The last time I saw Harvey perform live she had just released an album half-dedicated to a city whose tallest buildings still stood in the financial district.
Left to her own devices, Deborah Harry can get quirky and weird to a fault.
Heroes & Thieves finds Vanessa Carlton simply coasting.
When I assured her no one else was listening in on the conversation, she said: “I’ll just choose to believe you.”
Fox News’s Roger Friedman has called for a boycott of Rolling Stone.
Here are some notable September releases that fell through the cracks for one reason or another.
Kurt Cobain: About a Son is as gripping and revealing as Gus Van Sant’s Last Days was hollow and pointless.
Lennox’s voice, capable of creating the illusion of an entire choir as it does on the gospel-y “Ghost in My Machine,” is always the key focus of her music.
Canadian sextet Stars relish in drama and turmoil.
The Real Thing swiftly descends into over half an hour of sex songs you’d expect to hear at the tail end of a Janet Jackson album.
Who knew he was a next-generation house producer?
For all the cast changes and time that has passed by, Go Go Smear the Poison Ivy doesn’t break much new ground.