We weren’t sure if Madonna could surprise us anymore. Until she did.
I think it was Lester Bangs who said listening to Pink Floyd is like wrestling with shit.
There’s a frenetic, cyclical rhythmic pattern to so many of the songs on Emil Svanänen’s fifth album as Loney Dear.
The album is a well-crafted, Southern-tinged stab at folk-pop.
The execution of these remixes simply isn’t going to impress fans of Cash’s brand of country or of cutting-edge dance music.
The impeccably tailored songs onThe Chase sound timeless but never too familiar.
Dance Mother is one of the more exciting debut albums to emerge in long while.
In a December unusually barren of high-profile rap releases, 60 minutes of Ghostface Killah is hardly something to complain about.
The elegantly designed and sensitively laid out box set notably features tracks even diehard fans may not own on CD.
Like the music it emulates, Neon Neon is both disposable and surprisingly durable.
In its bareness, the album achieves a rare kind of elegance that exceeds the sum of its scant parts.
From the very first trill of the Psycho-esque orchestral flourish that opens Jazmine Sullivan’s debut, Fearless, it’s clear that this girl is different.
Folie à Deux seems to prove that Fall Out Boy is good at masking its best qualities and pushing forward its most annoying ones.
Different Me quickly lapses into a whole lot of midtempo and slow-jam filler.
Realist feels like the mold from which better rap albums are made.
The year’s best music reflects the spirits of hope and change that will likely define 2008.
The album impresses most for its lack of inhibitions.
Like any album from a band on the wrong side of 30, So, Who’s Paranoid? comes with a stigma attached.
It took 19 years for Hurricane to blow through, and it feels like Grace Jones spent the entire time leisurely accruing suitable new material at the magisterial pace of a plumy Category 5.
Does anyone want to party with Common?
Brandy’s Epic debut finds her in reboot mode.