The band’s first album in a decade is more haunted than its arena-sized choruses suggest.
Missundaztood may not be flawless, but it’s the multi-sonic platform from which Pink differentiates herself from the pop pack.
The album’s concept consists of a string of failed, ultimately hollow parables.
With their third album, Creed have mastered the art of echo.
Spin with caution.
Just when we thought we knew who Jill Scott was, she deepens her definition.
With Exciter, Depeche Mode creates a startlingly minimalist backdrop for obsessive love.
The disc runs the gamut of social consciousness, from inner-city school system politics to child molestation.
Timbaland is in peak form as usual on what is rumored to be his last solo release.
The album is less a sanction for sobriety than it is a struggle to comprehend the path that leads there.
The collection’s only flaw is the omission of tracks representing the band’s pre-fame days.
Destiny’s Child is the latest R&B act to offer up a Christmas album tweaked for today’s urban fanbase.
DiFranco’s musical progression has always made sense, and each album seems to be a stepping stone to the next.
My gay dad is gonna love this.
This Way trades in the pulpit for more organic fare tailormade for the everygirl.
No new songs. No controversial videos. No remixes. GHV2 is a long way from Madonna’s previous greatest hits compilations.
The album draws on the soul music that influenced Merchant to acknowledge her teachers.
Britney Spears is a professional tease.
Unfortunately, Kravitz’s simplicity occasionally presents itself as a glaring flaw.
With song titles like “Unbreakable” and “Invincible,” Michael Jackson may as well have embraced his critics and called his newest album Monster.
All hail the new kings of rock.