The songs rarely cohere into anything greater than the sum of their individual parts.
Not much has changed in the universe since the release of The Orb’s Adventures Beyond The Ultraworld.
It’s obvious that Martina’s the one wearing the pants this time around.
Championing the art of oral sex may seem daring but it just ends up sounding downright regressive.
Brandy’s got some big shoes to fill on her fourth album, and it’s a challenge she willingly signed up for.
A Ghost Is Born, like R.E.M.’s Automatic for the People, is a refreshingly instrumental work.
Luckily the album’s sound is as intriguingly stripped down as the Crossfire bits are jacked up.
More Mariah than Whitney, the former Miss Atlanta shows promise as a songwriter.
Prince reminded the crowd of what a true talent was capable of, throwing the town’s biggest block party, a celebration of musicality.
Enter the Mother of Reinvention. Madonna would probably prefer Mother of Evolution, or even Revolution.
The Empire Strikes First is Bad Religion’s bold and satisfying re-entry into the punk rock fray.
Compared with the bubblegum pop of their debut, Underneath reveals a more mature, guitar-based sound.
JoJo is pretty damn creepy.
I Feel For You is a true pop touchstone.
The album is a wish-you-were-here postcard from the ’80s.
Guitar solos work for the Eagles, not three wispy-voiced Cali girls.
Ramsey’s got the pipes, but she deserves better than this rather pedestrian assemblage of songs.
That’s right, it’s Lynn’s album, so we’ll try to keep the Jack White fawning to a minimum.
Incense and polyester get stale after a while. Unless you’re Lenny Kravitz.
Despite its lack of thematic cohesion, Uh Huh Her is immensely playable.
Múm’s Summer Make Good could be a companion piece to Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now.