The songs rarely cohere into anything greater than the sum of their individual parts.
The lo-fi production lacks the overall punch of similar albums by Jimmy Eat World and Guster, but the Davenports still get their point across.
Dann Huff’s predictably too-slick production does the duo no favors.
If this isn’t just meta indie meant to entertain folks who love indie rock and not a whole lot else, then what is it?
With this mixtape, M.I.A. has made great strides toward liberating her music from herself.
An album like Best Night of My Life has a tall task in proving, against every indication, that it’s not entirely pointless.
Ghostface manages to steal the show despite the esteemed roll of guest spots.
Who is Keri Hilson?
Basement Jaxx’s lopsided, Schaffel return to form, may very well have been commissioned by Audi to sell their A7 Sportback.
Just Charlie is a family reunion, and Uncle Charlie brought the potato salad.
Sometimes, when everyone agrees that something is pretty great, it’s because it’s actually pretty great.
Basic Instinct strictly observes a no-ballads policy.
It may not be the year’s worst pop album, but Strip Me might just be the most exhausting and heavy-handed.
I don’t want to overstate the case for our new decade’s first breakout star, but I can’t help hearing 2010’s pop music in terms of the Gaga Effect.
Dare I say I miss the days when he was comparing his lover’s bush to a damp, swampy rainforest?
Bowersox has the goods to stick around long after most other Idol alumni have reached their sell-by dates.
Despite its conceptual underpinnings, Love Remains never sounds overburdened by theory.
Michael is a bit like Bruce Lee’s Game of Death.
Reggie is billed as a concept album, but this proves another diversion for an artist running out of ways to market himself.
The Atlanta-born songstress managed to offer an interminably absorbing show with a performance that belonged on a far bigger stage.
Are those sleek Light Cycles equipped to run on fumes?