The singer has yet to discover a sound or sensibility that truly distinguishes her.
Miss Sparks is the youngest Idol winner to date, and for the most part, she doesn’t try to play older.
The album suggests that Little Big Town is perhaps the only currently popular band in mainstream country worth following.
U2’s The Joshua Tree might not be as magnificent as the masses claim, but it’s not without its share of magnificence.
Like clove cigarettes and emo hoodies, some things just go better with teen angst.
Sawdust is a cute name for an album of b-sides and rarities.
Heaven, Heartache, and the Power of Love is an album characterized by significant departures for Trisha Yearwood.
Black and White finds the Hives making their first real effort toward diversifying their sound.
Apparently getting kissed by a rose transports you to Dullsville.
Keys isn’t quite a superwoman come to save R&B from itself, but the timeless quality of As I Am is right on time.
Steve Earle racks up more wins than losses on Washington Square Serenade.
Even when he’s trying to raise consciousness, Jay-Z doesn’t really have any valid solutions.
Taking Chances is the album Clive Davis probably wishes Kelly Clarkson had made.
There’s still nothing very “exclusive” about Exclusive at all.
Carrie Underwood can take consolation in being all but certain to win Female Vocalist of the Year for the second year in a row.
Hip-hop is most certainly not dead and nowhere near dying, and, as Getback shows, neither is Little Brother.
Fulfilling a contractual obligation is hardly the most boast-worthy of accomplishments.
It became apparent pretty quickly that Lennox is a bit mad—in the best possible way, of course.
Bat for Lashes’s music feels like some lost specter that’s fortuitously wandered into your home and can’t help but haunt you.
Graduation is Kanye’s third and most underwhelming album for reasons that would generally be considered virtues.
What? you may be asking. A symphony—especially one that runs nearly 90 minutes long? And why Mahler?