We weren’t sure if Madonna could surprise us anymore. Until she did.
The album combines many of the best aspects of both Emmylou Harris’s classic and recent output.
The album hop-scotches between various genres but without any of the freshness or spontaneity of In Search Of…
Carter III is the Sizzler of rap albums.
Sadly, the singer doesn’t have much of a live presence, at least in the sense that you frequently forget she’s even on stage.
The album is probably the best thing that Jason Pierce has done since Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating in Space.
On their often charmless third full-length, the Futureheads jilt subtlety in favor of balls-to-the-wall rawk.
If nothing else, her delivery signals something worth keeping both an eye and ear on.
As remarkable as her pedigree is, Joan Wasser’s music is impressive in its own right.
Perfectly Clear works pretty well both as a Jewel album and an example of contemporary country.
The Virgins strikes a careful balance between fashionable and accessible.
Declaration aims to prove that Ashanti is indeed growing up.
Aimee Mann’s sixth studio album proper, @#%&*! Smilers, sounds much like the rest of her solo catalog.
Hello. My name is Vadim, and I’ve been a derelict blogger.
Sun and the Neon Light is not perfect, but it’s also no late-model Chemical Brothers album.
Will Oldham’s music under the Bonnie “Prince” Billy persona, though often rollicking or hilarious, is never entirely sanguine.
Unfortunately for Hough, her charm and her solid if unspectacular singing can’t overcome David Malloy’s nondescript production.
Bring Ya to the Brink recaptures Lauper’s artistic relevance and stands as a hipper alternative to Madonna’s Hard Candy.
The bigger the ego, the longer the tracklist.
James’s voice is scratchy and lived in, evoking contemporaries like Damien Rice and Xavier Rudd and giving his intricately painted stories a cozy, whispered-in-your-ear quality.
We Sing, We Dance, We Steal Things at least finds Mraz finally learning how to play to his strengths.