The singer has yet to discover a sound or sensibility that truly distinguishes her.
On Eat Me, Drink Me, Manson bares himself lyrically and explores new musical avenues.
If you find anything on Double Up remotely sexy, we personally want to sterilize you.
Chromeo was never meant to be considered a serious musical act, skating that fine line between witty kitsch and cheese-filled retro grooves.
Sweet Warrior is a minor release from a major artist.
A decade after its release, OK Computer’s influence can be heard in countless acts on both sides of pond.
Lyrics are once again an Achilles’ high heel for Rihanna.
Battles sound exactly like Steve Reich and Philip Glass jamming with Don Caballero.
With a few exceptions, Gretchen Wilson’s One of the Boys doesn’t go out of its way to debase women or pander to the neo-con demo.
Plague Park introduces Handsome Furs as the rare side project that isn’t entirely superfluous.
Both as a writer and a vocalist, Osborne has the chops to record a killer soul album, but this tasteful-to-a-fault effort isn’t it.
While Maroon 5 is down a drummer, luckily they haven’t lost their mojo.
As wraithlike as Air’s moon-rock, Boxer is also as focused and rugged as a great punk record.
I was less than enthused at the news of what seems like a premature Smashing Pumpkins reunion.
Straight Up! would be completely gratuitous if the selections on her previous hits collection weren’t so screwy.
Hype can be a cruel mistress.
Even at their most retro, Wilco is among contemporary pop music’s most vital acts.
Who walks down to the sea in the morning to sit in the long grass, and then rhymes “sea” with…“sea”?
Rufus Wainwright must have one hell of a rolodex.
Small Gods may not signal the birth of a star as bright as Springsteen, Etheridge, Crow, or even DiFranco, but it’s one worth keeping an eye on.
Lambert is a country music legend in the making, and the most vital artist Music Row has produced in a generation.