The band’s first album in a decade is more haunted than its arena-sized choruses suggest.
Chief doesn’t make Church a country music Jesus, but it does back up a good deal of his braggadocio.
This is the kind of freewheeling, creative rock record that should make Romweber a key influence on yet another generation.
Lloyd fares best when he stays on the sillier, sexier side of things.
Joss Stone’s fifth album continues the British soul singer’s tendency to present every release as a brand new beginning.
Little Dragon doesn’t break much new ground on their third album, but that’s beside the point.
It’s quite a surprise to hear the surfy members of Real Estate take a feather duster to their garage-bound instruments.
Smoke Fairies conjure up a beguiling blend of folk and blues, rich with pastoral harmonies and swampy gutter guitars.
The album’s beats will often be too airy or too crushed with distortion for all but the most forward-thinking groove-heads.
Timez Are Hard These Days is low-culture pulp with an unrealistic sense of its own sophistication.
For the most part, All of You is virtually indistinguishable from Caillat’s previous work.
Galactic Melt is a meticulously crafted album that still falls short of expectations.
Stephen Malkmus continues to make not-exactly-Pavement music with his band the Jicks.
The music of Gustav Mahler is appropriate for the kind of contemplation that Terrence Malick aims to evoke in The Tree of Life.
The refinement of the songs on Life’s Rich Pageant are highlighted by the reissue’s second disc.
Chris Young’s Neon at least gives the Nashville Star winner a platform for his impressive voice.
I’m Gay (I’m Happy) can be both exhaustingly self-referential and as resolutely concerned with the truth as any Native Tongues classic.
Producer Left Brain’s instrumentals are tailor-made for Hodgy’s torpid rapping style.
The album affords Chambers opportunities for more adventurous stylistic diversions.
Red River Blue proves that Blake Shelton is a capable singer who chooses to sing some lackluster songs.
Eleanor Friedberger’s solo debut is a loose concept album that’s dense but never overtly rigorous.