We weren’t sure if Madonna could surprise us anymore. Until she did.
For a rapper who doesn’t rap very well, the Game is proving to be amazingly resilient as well as oddly charming.
What began as an internet rumor turned into self-fulfilling prophecy.
The contrast between Human Highway’s Moody Motorcycle and Arm’s Way could hardly be more stark.
Like most popular videos, “Got Money” bounces between a performance part and a plot/narrative.
Venturing off into the unknown plays well for Solange.
The Gaslight Anthem’s interpretation of their influences makes for one of the more rewarding punk albums of the year.
Sweet’s production foregrounds the massive guitar hooks, giving the album a punch that carries some heavy follow-through.
North Hollywood Shootout is Blues Traveler’s slightly over-reaching attempt at reclaiming some of their former commercial relevance.
The album goes a long way toward definitively documenting their trippy, ingenious maunderings.
The album’s more energetic moments only serve as a frustrating indicator of Thibodeau’s potential.
The album suggests a larger community working to redefine itself.
Pro Tools serves as a hip-hop state-of-the-union address.
Look What You Made Me will burn brightly for a few weeks on the strength of its club readiness.
The sheer quality of the Dandy Warhols’s songcraft on Earth goes a long way toward earning them a measure of goodwill.
Fast Paced World puts to rest any doubts as to how the Duhks would carry on with their new incarnation.
Juliana Hatfield is often at her best on How to Walk Away.
Loudon Wainwright III is a songwriter who has only gotten better as he’s aged.
Summer of the Whore documents a season of self-destruction and preservation.
My favorite piece of music criticism this year is one of those cut-and-paste subway collage hack jobs.
Brazilian Girls are not from Brazil, only one of them is a girl, and their album New York City has very little to do with the Big Apple.