Dim: Fiona Apple - The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do

So much of the drama surrounding Fiona Apple's third album, Extraordinary Machine, focused on its recording and release -- how the original Jon Brion productions were scrapped in favor of new versions helmed by Mike Elizondo, all fueling fan panic and an Internet protest pleading for a free Fiona -- that ultimately all the clamor obscured Apple herself, both her songs and performances. She runs no such risk on The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do, her fourth album, arriving some seven years after Extraordinary Machine. Alone with her voice, piano, and percussionist Charley Drayton, Apple has nowhere to hide, nor does she give any indication she'd prefer to run. These spare but not skeletal arrangements -- each cut is subtly colored with harmonies, slight effects, overlapping rhythms, and additional keyboards -- never shift focus away from Fiona's magnetic vocals, the human element pulling us into these songs. Some hooks are stronger than others -- "Periphery" cuts to the quick, whereas "Every Single Night" surges -- but what was rumored about Extraordinary Machine is actually true about The Idler Wheel: there are no singles here, nothing concise and concentrated to facilitate an easy sell. But that's not to say that The Idler Wheel is alienating. As elliptical as the melodies and words can be, the music is immediate and the songs unfold quickly, certain turns of phrase or thrilling runs swiftly seeping into the subconscious. Lacking either ornate production or a pop single, The Idler Wheel plays like Fiona Apple at her purest and that's plenty complicated: she takes no shortcuts or easy turns, her intent somewhat shrouded but never absent. Much of the charm of Apple's music isn't decoding what it all means but learning its internal clockwork, letting the songs take root, so the love songs ("Jonathan") seem sweeter, the braggadocio ("Hot Knife") funnier, the pathos ("Valentine," "Regret") and paranoia ("Werewolf") feeling fathomless. Once the startling Spartan surfaces of The Idler Wheel become familiar, similarities to her three previous albums are apparent -- she takes certain jazzy strides that hark back to Tidal, there's a rigorous dexterity reminiscent of When the Pawn -- but what's new is an unwavering determination and cohesion. Nothing is wasted, either in the composition or arrangement, and this lean confidence binds The Idler Wheel. Stripped of all her carnivalesque accouterments, Fiona Apple remains as rich and compelling as she ever was, perhaps even more so.


Based On Critics - 45/50
Based On Public - 22/50
Based On Hype - 8/50
Based On Pop Flares - 35/50 
Overall:

Dim: Grace Potter & The Nocturnals - The Lion The Beast The Beat

Grace Potter & the Nocturnals' self-titled 2010 album raised the band's profile. It traded heavily on their concert strengths, and while not perfect, it more or less shored up their reputation with fans and spread their rep globally. The Lion the Beast the Beat is a creative leap. With the band having enlisted producer Jim Scott, most tracks were cut live from the floor of his studio with strings, effects, and backing vocals added later. The sound here is big, sometimes bombastic, but never slick; it's wildly varied, too. Collectively, the songs have a very loose thematic link about the gray areas between perception and reality, looking at everything from relationships to time's passage. The title track contains the band's signature big guitars and drums roaring above an organ and strings. It nods -- without winking -- at the Go-Go's' "We Got the Beat." Dan Auerbach co-wrote and co-produced "Never Go Back," the album's first single. It's a tricky, quirky number with an off-kilter funk riff à la mid-period Talking Heads. Its chorus is infectious and Potter's singing, alternately seductive and authoritative, grabs the listener by the throat. The ballad "Stars" looks directly toward country radio with its pedal steel and lilting hook. That said, it's warmer and more natural-sounding. Auerbach and Potter also co-wrote the Doors-influenced "Loneliest Soul," an uptempo groover with pulsing organ, slinky Rhodes, and a popping bassline that pushes it above imitation. The psych-tinged "Timekeeper" is an unlikely pop song, but its distinctly retro feel and Potter's exquisite vocal -- which is far more disciplined than on any previous recording -- are irresistible. "Runaway" is punchy, nasty, funky rock & roll -- one keeps expecting horns, but they never appear. Co-produced by Auerbach and Scott, it contains the former's feel for live distortion and the latter's layered ambience and dynamics, and combines them to great effect. The guitar break is smoking; it pushes Potter to her limit in response. The closer, "The Divide," is the set's best track. It's a slow-building, apocalyptic rocker, whose three guitars create menace and drama. They are balanced by a careening organ and a large string section, arranged to carry the proceedings from the abyss to transcendence. While Potter's melodies and hooks are solid on The Lion the Beast the Beat, some of her lyric choices are still a bit clunky. However, she and the Nocturnals compensate with passion, execution, and smart production choices and arrangements. With its exponential musical growth, this might indeed be the record that moves the band from the merely recognizable into the pop mainstream.

Based On Critics - 35/50

Based On Public - 10/10

Based On Hype - 25/50

Based On Pop Flares - 35/50

Overall:

Dim: Brandi Carlile - Bear Creek

Named in honor of the converted turn-of-the-century Washington barn where it was recorded, Brandi Carlile's fourth studio outing, the rough and tumble, sweet and soulful Bear Creek, is as fiery as it is bucolic. Carlile's wonderfully expressive voice is as tailor-made for country as it is for roots rock, and the 13 cuts on Bear Creek lean heavily on the former, striking a nice balance between the nuanced twang of Alison Krauss and the bluesy cockiness of Bonnie Raitt, especially on the spirited, boot-stomping opener "Hard Way Home," the sweet and steady "Keep Your Heart Young," and the gospel-kissed howler "Raise Hell." The notion of diminishing youth (Carlile turned 30 during the making of the album) plays a pivotal role on Bear Creek, and contributes to some of its finest moments. Both "A Promise to Keep," with its soft cadence, deft fingerpicking, and stoic refrain of "The hill I'm walking up is getting good and steep," and the lush and languid closer "Just Kids" manage to bask in the sepia glow of nostalgia without disappearing into the past, which is an attribute that Carlile, with her old-school melodic sense and genuine flair for Roy Orbison/Patsy Cline melodrama, displayed right out of the gate with 2005's blistering future American Idol standard "The Story." Four albums in, Carlile has honed her distinctly retro brand of Northwest Americana down to science, and Bear Creek feels both easy and immediate, which is usually what happens when talented artists finally figure out who they are, and that heartache, failure, defiance, and confidence can all go to the dance together.

Based On Critics - 40/50

Based On Public - 10/50

Based On Hype - 20/50

Based On Pop Flares - 33/50

Overall:

Dim: Paloma Faith - Fall To Grace

Discussing the song '30 Minute Love Affair' on her new album, Paloma Faith admitted that it was based on a fleeting moment with a homeless London busker when she was a teen. It's this kind of quirkiness that has so far divided public opinion on the singer, leading to some labelling 2009's Do You Want the Truth or Something Beautiful? nothing more than another contrived '60s throwback-soul record.
There's no such worry on Fall To Grace which, at times, feels astonishingly honest. A shining example is lead single 'Picking Up The Pieces', an epic song about relationship neuroses that feels worthy of its own Adele moment. Producer Nellee Hooper (Madonna, Bjork) and Jake Gosling (Ed Sheeran) remain at the helm throughout, creating sumptuous melodies on ballads 'Black & Blue' and 'Just Be' that are packed to the brim with old glamour. Countering the slower moments are smoky disco numbers 'Blood Sweat & Tears' and '30 Minute Love Affair', the latter a Cyndi Lauper-meets-Drive number whose hooks dig much deeper than you'd expect. She escapes depressing us with her constant tales of relationship woes on the chorus of 'Freedom' which, despite the subject matter, has a wonderful gospel-like quality. Faith's co-writers Eg White, Toby Gad and Dan Wilson may be responsible for some of the biggest songs in recent memory ('Someone Like You' and 'Leave Right Now' to name a few), but even they manage to turn out the occasional misfire in 'Beauty of the Gone' and by-numbers ballad 'When You're Gone'. That said, they're up against some seriously stellar competition - and while her collaborators may have an ear for a chorus, there's no question that Fall To Grace is unmistakably 'Paloma'.

Based On Critics - 34/50

Based On Public - 13/50

Based On Hype - 18/50

Based On Pop Flares - 32/50

Overall:

Dim: Scissor Sisters - Magic Hour

The Scissor Sisters followed Night Work's dancefloor triumphs with Magic Hour, a set of songs that seem more comfortable when they don't feel like dancing. Not that the group doesn't try to keep Night Work's momentum going: Jake Shears, Ana Matronic, and company recruited Pharrell Williams and Calvin Harris to co-produce a couple of tracks, and invited Azealia Banks to rap on "Shady Love." It's just that, much like on Ta-Dah!, this time Scissor Sisters' skill at writing more introspective pop songs is that much sharper, and more prominent. Magic Hour shows its hand right away with the great opening track "Baby Come Home," possibly the band's most appealing single since "Don't Feel Like Dancin'" and definitely a showcase for the band's AM pop songwriting mastery -- they're still the best among the many acts who dig through '70s and early-'80s pop for inspiration, such as Mika, Chromeo, and Electric Guest. Pharrell helps the band attain breezy Bee Gees nirvana on "Inevitable," and Shears shines on "San Luis Obispo"'s sunny, strummy pop and "Best in Me," which puts a melody that would easily fit on one of Scissor Sisters' more retro tracks to a briskly contemporary arrangement. When the band does try to pick up the pace, the results are mixed: sometimes they work their kinetic magic, as on the aerodynamic "Keep Your Shoes On" and the Matronic showcase "Let's Have a Kiki," an anthem about low-rent fabulosity and justified cattiness, but too often their attempts to get things moving feel contrived: despite Banks' fierce flow, "Shady Love" just doesn't have the impact it should (although a more inspired remix would take care of that). While Magic Hour may not be as satisfying to fans who just wanna dance as albums like Night Work and Scissor Sisters were, it should please those who enjoy the band's formidable songwriting skills as much as cutting a rug -- and at the very least, it reaffirms that Scissor Sisters still have more depth than some people give them credit for.

Based On Critics - 34/50

Based On Public - 12/50

Based On Hype - 14/50

Based On Pop Flares - 33/50

Overall:

Dim: Regina Spektor - What We Saw From The Cheap Seats

Regina Spektor's sixth outing, the predictably unpredictable What We Saw from the Cheap Seats, feels a little like a Wes Anderson movie. By now, you're either on board with the Russian-American's unique blend of East Village anti-folk and immaculately detailed thespian indie pop, or you've swapped her wares for the more accessible quirkiness of Fun. or the lunchroom loner art pop of St. Vincent. Like Anderson, Spektor is a gifted world builder, and one of Cheap Seats' greatest strengths is its prep school confidence. Utterly disparate tracks like "Oh Marcello," which utilizes the tried and true hitmaking equation of a fake Italian accent, beatboxing, and the chorus from the Animals' “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood,” and the gorgeous "Firewood," an artful and winningly austere ode to life and death that brings to mind vintage Randy Newman, are both given equal attention, and the weighty "Ballad of a Politician," despite its call to "Shake your ass out in that street," feels timely and deeply rooted in that blurry line between youthful indiscretion and civic stewardship. Still, it's a wild ride, and Spektor, despite her immaculate execution, can be a bit much, especially when it comes to vocal mannerisms (think Tori Amos and Nellie Mckay in an affectation-off), but much like the works of the aforementioned Anderson, What We Saw from the Cheap Seats succeeds more often than it frustrates.

Based On Critics - 37/50

Based On Public - 20/50

Based On Hype - 8/50

Based On Pop Flares - 31/50

Overall:

Dim: Haley Reinhart - Listen Up!

The debut album from 2011 American Idol finalist Haley Reinhart, 2012's Listen Up! features the singer framed in slick, retro-influenced pop and R&B productions. Working with a handful of pop songwriting and production wizards including Busbee (Kelly Clarkson, Daughtry), Mike Elizondo (Nelly Furtado,Natasha Bedingfield), Rob Kleiner, MoZella, and others, Reinhart has delivered a solid set of catchy, dance-oriented cuts that maximize her sexy, playful persona and come off a lot hipper than you'd expect from a major label AmIdol release. Vocally, Reinhart has a cherubically gutsy, deeply resonant vocal sound perfectly suited for these boomy, '60s pop-influenced productions. In that sense, tracks like the punchy leadoff cut "Oh My!," the sultry lil'-diva single "Free," and the equally as swaggering and funky "Liar" are catchy, post-Amy Winehouse dance-soul productions that mix scratchy vinyl-sounding beats, blurty horn sections, driving piano lines, and some sassy backing vocal parts. Elsewhere, we get the pumping Motown-esque "Wasted Tears," the similarly engaging disco anthem "Now That You're Here," and the swoony girl group meets soft rock number "Wonderland." Definitely an ear-grabber, Listen Up! ultimately posits Reinhart as a kind of old-school pinup, a mini-Mariah Carey if she'd grown up listening to a mix of Dusty Springfield, Lisa Stansfield, and En Vogue.

Based On Public - 7/50

Based On Critics - 35/50

Based On Hype - 15/50

Based On Pop Flares - 37/50

Overall:

Dim: Norah Jones - Little Broken Hearts

Exorcizing the ghost of a failed relationship via the time-honored tradition of the breakup album, Norah Jones luxuriates in beautiful misery on Little Broken Hearts. Liberated by the separation but not quite ready to let it go, Jones achieves a curious subdued tension here, dressing unadorned confessionals in softly stylized studio noir created with the assistance of producer Danger Mouse, who collaborated with her the year before on the collective Rome. Seeming opposites -- the classicist meets the futurist -- Jones and Danger Mouse are well matched, as both artists are not as set in their ways as their individual reputations would suggest. Jones began to drift away from the jazzy sophistication of Come Away with Me when she released the quietly adventurous Not Too Late way back in 2007, the year after Danger Mouse broke into the mainstream via Gnarls Barkley. In the ensuing half decade, the singer/songwriter continued to dabble in different sounds and styles while the producer streamlined his electronic eccentricities, leaving them to meet at the crossroads of Little Broken Hearts, where he wrings out the pathos in her songs. The songs themselves hold little mystery -- all motivations are laid bare, there are no twists in the melodies or detours hidden within the structure -- so all the mystique derives from a production that amplifies the themes. Occasionally, Danger Mouse piles on his signature murk a little too thickly, weighing down such spare sad songs as "She's 22" and "Miriam," yet his aural tapestries often lend the tunes a lilting melancholy they require and add dimension to the album's poppier moments ("Happy Pills," "Say Goodbye"). Conversely, by placing so much emphasis on the stylish ever-shifting surfaces of its production, Little Broken Hearts never quite sinks in emotionally. Norah Jones may be pouring her heart out but it's been given an elegantly detailed sculpture that camouflages her pain. Listen closely and its evident, but it takes effort to ignore the alluring haze and hear the songs that lie beneath.

Based On Critics - 37/50

Based On Public - 35/50

Based On Hype - 10/50

Based on Pop Flares - 33/50

Overall:

Dim: Santigold - Master Of My Make-Believe

Frontwoman Santi White has taken on the face of Santigold for Master of My Make-Believe, as depicted in the album's artwork, which finds her portraying all four characters (even the mustached man that sits front and center). John Hill continues to co-write, but with White gaining pop star status, he takes the back seat, as they enlist the help of A-list producers Diplo, Switch, Boyz Noise, Buraka Som Sistema, TV on the Radio's Dave Sitek, Ricky Blaze, and Q-Tip. Multi-instrumentalist Greg Kurstin (Beck, Flaming Lips) and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs also make a huge impact on the sound of the record, with Karen O contributing vocals on the leadoff "Go!" and Nick Zinner scattering delicious guitar texture across the tracks. MOMMB is a thickly crafted album that took four years to complete. At surface value, it isn't drastically different than the debut, but it's never predictable. Instead of delivering an album's worth of bangers like "Say Aha," "You'll Find a Way," and "L.E.S. Artistes," Santigold expands on downtempo dub and pop ballads like "Shove It" and the commercial crossover hit "Lights Out." Fans of those songs will enjoy the synth reggae fusion of "Pirate in the Water" and the severely catchy hooks of "Disparate Youth." When not dabbling in reggae (like on the Beastie Boys album cameo "Don't Play No Game That I Can't Win"), White -- whose favorite band is appropriately the Smiths -- continues to be masterful at appropriating sparkling '80s arrangements, as seen in "The Keepers," a slick song that swipes a melody line from "Little Red Corvette" and incorporates a theme once explored by Talking Heads ("While we sleep, our house is burning down"). Preoccupations with fame and how Santigold are perceived by critics and peers are still common concerns, explored in the fiery Hollertronix album closers, but even when White's taunting and teasing, she appears to be in control, and comfortable with her role as a pop artist. This is the kind of album that can fully define her sound, but is still multifaceted and well crafted enough to be exciting. While that's no guarantee that the sophomore outing will be as huge a hit as Santigold's breakout, at least it's proof positive that Santi White is settling in for a long ride.

Based On Critics - 38/50

Based On Public - 8/50

Based On Hype -10/50

Based on Pop Flares -35/50 

Overall:

Dim: B.o.B - Strange Clouds

B.o.B's sophomore effort is missing that little bit of humility that made his debut (2010's The Adventures of Bobby Ray) so approachable, and when you come out of the gate nailing such a wide variety of pop-rap, asking for growth is asking for a lot. On this sophomore effort, B.o.B sounds like the same guy who delivered that debut and with the same set of skills (good lyrics, great pathos, and great punch lines) and aspirations (big across the board), just after numerous nights of bottle service, living in a platinum dream world where Dr. Luke and Lil Wayne contribute to your hazy highlight title track, and where mega-star Taylor Swift replaces Hayley Williams on the worthy "Airplanes" follow-up, "Both of Us." Later it's Nicki Minaj acting like a malfunctioning robot on the hip thrill ride called "Out of My Mind," followed by alt-rocker Ryan Tedder on the warm and cozy morning affirmation titled "Never Let You Go," but B.o.B isn't just influenced by the styles of his guests and is willing to bump a solo strip-club number ("Ray Bands") next to a solo soul-searcher ("So Hard to Breathe") as if albums were always executed like trapeze acts. Combine well funded and well crafted along with the rapper's "no frontin'" attitude -- sometimes he really wants to ease problems, and sometimes he really wants to be at a strip club -- and it starts to come together, plus when Morgan Freeman delivers that big, heavy-handed intro with barely a smirk, B.o.B's choice of audacious over ironic is refreshing. This is bold pop-rap at an "Arena" level, and while partying like a rock star means cohesiveness takes a hit, Strange Clouds is still thrilling and persuasive.

Based on Critics - 34/50

Based on Public - 25/50

Based on Hype - 36/50

Based on Pop Flares - 32/50

Overall:

Dim: The Wanted - The Wanted EP

The Wanted's 2012 release The EP combines tracks off the British boy band's two previous albums, including the group's 2010 self-titled debut and 2011's Battleground. In that sense, the album works as a kind of introduction to the U.S. market for the band that signed a deal in 2011 with the American Def Jam Records. Featured here are such hits as "All Time Low," "Glad You Came," "Gold Forever," "Heart Vacancy," and "Lightning." Also included are two newly recorded cuts, "Chasing the Sun" and "Satellite." Although the Wanted fall into the multi-member teen pop tradition of such groups as *NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, and Take That, musically they evince more of a dance-rock, synth pop sound that is influenced as much by the modern rock uplift of Coldplay and Snow Patrol as it is the more club-oriented R&B of the Justins: Timberlake and Bieber. Ultimately, there is a musical sophistication and higher maturity level to the Wanted's sound than you might expect, and given that The EP compiles some of the best cuts from two albums, it makes for an engaging listen with broad cross-generational appeal.

Based On Critics - 31/50

Based On Public - 11/50

Based on Hype - 50/50

Based on Pop Flares - 35/50

Overall:

Dim: Jason Mraz - Love Is A Four Letter Word

Underneath his tongue-twisting wordplay, Jason Mraz fancies himself a loverman -- and given that his greatest success came from the sticky sentiment of "I'm Yours," who can blame him for thinking this way? Nevertheless, he's never made a full-blown makeout record until Love Is a Four Letter Word, an album steeped in '70s soul. Mraz doesn't neglect his acoustic guitar nor does he abandon his showy verbal gymnastics, but apart from a cut or two -- including "BLANK," the album's first single -- they're buried underneath stacks of luxurious strings and thick, insistent grooves, touches that tie the record together with elegance. Mr. A-Z has hinted at soul before but he's never placed music over words, a shift of emphasis that delivers great dividends. He can still be a nasally, hyperactive twit, too eager to succumb to clever-clever puns and quips, but there's an acknowledgment that even if he can't change who he is -- witness the terribly titled "Fred D Fixer," an ode to a grandfather who lived by his hands, not his wits -- he can build upon this foundation. If all he adds is color and flair, not some serious depth, that winds up being enough: by making alterations and affecting his pose, Mraz pushes himself into new territory, creating music that's perilously close to sounding seductive. What holds Love Is a Four Letter Word from actually being seductive is that Mraz seems more lech than Lothario -- there's always a sense that he's around for nothing longer than a night. But, as Love Is a Four Letter Word plays, Mraz can convince you that his pleasures are a bit more than fleeting. It may be a lie, but it sure sounds good as it's told.

Based on Critics - 32/50

Based on Public - 25/50

Based on Hype - 37/50

Based on Pop Flares - 35/50

Overall:

Dim: Train - California 37

Heading down the road from Save Me, San Francisco, Train take a journey on California 37, creating a pseudo-concept album about either the Golden State or Pat Monahan grappling with middle-aged crazies or perhaps a combination of the two. As always with Train, it's nigh on impossible to discern where sincerity ends and satire begins, or if the band even bothers to draw a distinction between the two extremes. When faced with a song like "You Can Finally Meet My Mom," where Monahan either mourns the death of his mother by declaring that he'd rather spend time in heaven with her, not Gilda Radner, Chris Farley, or "the dude that had Pop Rocks and soda,” or he's expressing elation that his beloved can, as the song claims, finally meet his mom in the afterlife, what is the appropriate reaction? On a certain level, Monahan means it, man, when he's tackling a big, universal issue, one that is indeed difficult to capture in a four-minute pop tune, but Train's tackiness envelops whatever trace of recognizable emotion lies within...and not just because the arrangement is so goopy the gospel choir barely registers. It all goes back to Monahan's maddening lyrics, so overstuffed with Gen-X pop culture allusions -- some fresh, most some iteration of TMZ's "'memba them?" signature -- that he undercuts whatever larger meaning he may have. This reduces California 37's opening salvo "This'll Be My Year," an update of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire," into a capsule history that dismisses any hint that we're all swept along by forces larger than us and reduces it to a solipsistic celebration of Monahan's life and times. To an extent, he's always written this way, but back in the days of Drops of Jupiter there was some semblance of grit within their rhythms, but in the wake of the near-novelty "Hey Soul Sister," the singalong ditty riddled with naughty rhymes, Train feel free to shed any suggestion that they get down and dirty. California 37 is all sunshine and open roads, all light and bright colors, chirpy pop intent on wearing down your defenses. And that relentless cheer surely suits Train, who happily exist in the surfaces of the modern world, so California 37, in a sense, is a purer record for the trio than even Drops of Jupiter. Here, there's nothing preventing them from indulging in the silliest rhymes, baffling name-drops, nagging hooks, and earworm melodies. You may hate California 37, but you'll never be able to get it out of your head.

Based On Critics - 25/50

Based On Public - 19/50

Based On Hype - 43/50

Based On Pop Flares - 29/50

Overall:

Dim: Rascal Flatts - Changed

The change alluded to in the title of Rascal Flatts' Changed refers to the trio's embrace of self-production of its eighth album, but longtime followers and casual observers alike can be forgiven for thinking nothing is different here. Like any of Rascal Flatts' records, Changed is a smooth machine pumping out arena-country anthems and power ballads, interrupted by the occasional silly novelty or platform-jumping crossover. Here, they're not rubbing elbows with the likes of Natasha Bedingfield -- the British diva who didn't help the group break through in the U.K., but their "Easy" did reach the U.S. Adult Contemporary Top 20, which admittedly isn't foreign territory for Rascal Flatts -- and they've toned down the brightness that gave 2010's Nothing Like This some cheer, a subdued shift that's evident even on goofy roof-raising party tunes like "Banjo" (or "Friday" on its expanded Deluxe Edition; regrettably, it is not a Rebecca Black cover). Changed marches to a deliberate beat, the tempos shifting only slightly when things get either insistent or gentle, the group layering its harmonies heavily on both the soft and loud numbers, giving every cut a candied gloss. Taken in one sitting, this can be too sweet, but that's largely due to that unwavering beat and how it makes everything blend together, with the melodies not being quite strong enough to give the slickness definition. Which isn't to say that there aren't songs that announce themselves, in ways both good (the cool assured adult contemporary pulse of "Hot in Here") and bad (the repetition of "She's Leaving" is an instant irritation), but Changed always errs on the side of caution. And perhaps that says a lot about Rascal Flatts: when left to their own devices, they take fewer risks than usual.

Based on Critics - 35/50

Based on Public - 33/50

Based on Hype - 27

Based on Pop Flares - 30/50

Overall:

Dim: Melanie Fiona - The MF Life

When the forlorn ballad "4 AM" started to gain airplay, in September 2011, it sounded like an answer record to any one of several songs in rotation. Here was the flip side to the boys' unapologetic pillage-and-plunder tales: the voice of a vulnerable, livid woman backed by pinging/pulsing percussion, including a brilliantly anachronistic drum'n'bass tease, with swells of synthesizers, strings, and electric guitar. The insidious effect of "4 AM" translated to a slow, steady rise; by the time The MF Life was released, in March 2012, it had finally slipped into the Top Ten of Billboard's R&B/Hip-Hop chart. The song served a second purpose, as it was wholly contemporary -- quite possibly a move to airlift Melanie Fiona from the retro box. Mostly unnecessary vocal appearances from J. Cole, Nas, B.o.B, John Legend, and T-Pain suggest a marked effort to make Fiona appeal to a larger crowd, but otherwise, The MF Life has the singer refining the throwback approach of The Bridge with a couple diversions into soul-influenced adult contemporary rock. In addition to "4 AM," there's a six-track stretch, from the elegantly plain-spoken "I Been That Girl" (co-written by onetime bandmate Drake) through the vamping "Bones" (as in "Get all molecular and pass myself through you"), where each song either matches or surpasses the best of The Bridge. While Fiona clearly thrives most in settings that pull from late-'60s and early-'70s soul, she's remarkably versatile when it comes to modes of expression. Somewhere between Jazmine Sullivan and Kelis, her not-quite-husky, not-quite-scratchy voice is easily adaptable to a range of material that zeroes in on desperate longing, resentful rejection, and many points between. The more beneficial mix of songwriting and production collaborators, including Jack Splash, No ID, Rico Love, and Salaam Remi, helps make The MF Life superior to the debut in every way.

Based On Critics - 39/50

Based On Public - 10/50

Based On Hype - 29/50

Based On Pop Flares - 30/50 

Overall:

Dim: Evanescence - Evanescence

Difficult births are no stranger to Evanescence. Nothing ever quite seems to come easy for Amy Lee, yet the five years separating Evanescence’s 2006 sophomore effort The Open Door and its eponymous 2011 album were relatively quiet, the band undergoing some lineup changes -- not to mention a switch of producers, from Steve Lillywhite to Nick Raskulinecz -- but nothing comparable to the messy departure of Ben Moody between the group’s first two albums. Such comparative calm is reflected within the grooves of Evanescence, which is less tortured tonally even if it remains quite dramatic. Lee’s default mode is to sing to the rafters, her operatic bluster sometimes overbearing when her settings are gloomy, but Raskulinecz pulls off a nifty trick of brightening the murk, retaining all of the churning drama but lessening the oppression by brightening the colors and pushing the melody. While there’s hardly a danger of Amy Lee removing her thick mascara, she’s not pouting all the time; there’s some shade and light here, some variety of tempos, enough to give Evanescence the illusion of warmth, not to mention a fair share of crossover hooks. It’s aural candy for aging goths and tortured tweens alike.

Based on Critics - 35/50

Based on Public - 32/50

Based on Hype - 15/50

Based on Pop Flares - 30/50

Overall: