ARCTIC MONKEYS - Do I Wanna Know lyrics. Arctic Monkeys Do I Wanna Know is from Arctic Monkey. Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know? Arctic Monkeys formed in Sheffield in 2002. Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know? You can pre-order from the Arctic Monkeys Webstore here. Lyrics to 'Do I Wanna Know?'

Sort by: Rating 5.0 classic How could something so polished still maintain such grit? On her breakaway sophomore, Winehouse delivered eleven heartfelt and dark tales of lust, addiction and need that encompasses both classic soul and modern pop in a damn-near-perfect amalgamation. You can also thank this record for making Mark Ronson an international star - his work here is flawless. An unforgettable, decade-defining masterpiece that will resonate for generations to come.

Always remember this Amy, and not the one the tabloids want you to remember. When we put together a time capsule to remember 2009 by, we're going to put in a picture of Michael Jackson, the box set of Glee, a swine flu mask, Matt Bellamy's messiah complex.and this. Merriweather Post Pavilion may come from Animal Collective, a group that is fearlessly eclectic and confrontingly experimental, but the highs of the album recall an outlandish, technicolor pop summer that exudes a wide-eyed awe of the world around it. The yin-and-yang harmonies soar over the adventurous 'My Girls', a didgeridoo backs the dizzying sway of 'Lion in a Coma', 'Brother Sport' provides one of the most infectious conga-line singalongs of the year. Merriweather gleans a series of shining, blissed out moments of eerily relative euphoria and arranges them in a way that you can pick up the record at any point from its beginning to its conclusion and invariably find something that relentlessly stuns and amazes. It's nearly been twelve months since its release, and possibly one of the very few disappointing things about 2009 was the fact that even with such an early release, nothing else came close to matching what MPP had to offer - intelligent, boundary-shoving explorations through time, space and a brief history of both experimental and popular music. Cliche'd 'album of the year' choice?

But little else was more deserving of the hype it received than this very album. Right before the turn of the century - and right before their own implosion as a band - Ben Folds Five threw in an incredibly late contender for the best album of the nineties. Few records hit quite as close to home as The Unauthorized Biography: a stunning, honest portrayal of life's unfairness; complete with internal struggles, failure and the responsibilities that come with dealing with all of this.

Perceived as the band's most mature and serious work, it still brought out the very best in these three musicians and provided a soundtrack to anyone looking for answers when they've run out of questions. Make this album your most valuable posession. Three albums in, pop whizkid Ben Lee created his masterpiece.

A well-produced and impeccably written left-of-centre pop gem filled with samples, diverse arrangements and an eye for lyrics and melody well beyond his years. This still continues to amaze, intrigue and impress after all these years. It's something very few Australian musicians, let alone Ben himself, can one-up. Rock music needed Black Sabbath.

Sure, there was great music around before and beyond them, but it seems that rock was not truly evil until Ozzy, Tony, Geezer and Bill delivered a wild, confident and solid mixture of rock and roll, blues, heavy metal and pop ('Paranoid' and 'Iron Man', regardless of what you may think, are pop songs through and through, albeit very heavy ones). From the mammoth E chord that signals the arrival of 'War Pigs', to Ozzy's confession that fairies do, indeed, wear boots, this album effortlessly turned the musical world on its head.

It remains the Sabbath magnum opus, and an album that few others could have even attempted to pull off. That's the thing about first impressions. You only get one. Rest assured these four British lads made theirs lifelong-lasting, creating a defining post-post-punk masterpiece faster than you can say 'angular'. Everything falls perfectly into place here: Kele Okereke's easily-flexible chameleon voice, Russell Lissack's warpspeed guitar effects and knife-edge chops, Matt Tong's stick-breaking drum splashes and rolls and Gordon Moakes' thick, Peter Hook-esque basslines. Bloc Party work as an entity here, never failing to impress and inspire.

Whether it's a high-energy soar ('Like Eating Glass', 'Banquet', 'Positive Tension') or a tender moment of intricate beauty ('Plans', 'So Here We Are'), not a second is out of place. Silent Alarm truly is nothing short of a phenomenal 2000s release. How do you go about following up, let alone improving upon, one of the most notable debut albums of the 2000s? In the curious case of Bloc Party, they took their established sound and took it to a different level - darker, heavier, richer in atmosphere and ambience, conceptual and conjoined. Immersed in a world of mistrust, fear, paranoia, sexual confusion and a fear of a completely globalised London, A Weekend in the City was a bold move by the band.

Songs like 'Hunting for Witches' and 'Uniform' were wrapped in bile and a nihilistic disposition, whereas 'Kreuzberg' and 'Sunday' document realisations of homosexual love and lust from then-closeted Kele Okereke. A myriad of emotions and expression, it was the album the band simply had to make. So, how do you follow up a classic? Simple - make another one. For Springsteen fans, it might be the uncool or 'obvious'/'mainstream' choice to nominate U.S.A.

As his best album. But really, aside from maybe Born to Run, is there really another choice? Packed to the brim with his defining hits (the title track, 'Dancing In The Dark', 'I'm On Fire', 'Glory Days') and some of the finest songwriting of its time, the E-Street Band truly stepped things up a notch with the release of this album, creating a landmark in both pop culture and American music. The Boss has a practically untouchable discography, but the cream of the crop when it comes to his eighties work is almost exclusively found on Born In The U.S.A. One of the most amazing records I have experienced in a long time.

This wasn't even a slow-burner- the impact was hard, fast and truly remarkable. Whoever the person behind this is a true master of beats, samples and creating atmosphere with limited material to do it with. The minimalism is the key to the triumphs here- the beats go on and on, but not once do they become repetitive. It's all a part of this record's journey. If you like Unkle, Massive Attack and Thom Yorke's solo album, then this record is for you.

Hell, if you like melodic death metal, this record is for you- it needs to be heard to be believed. Politics, propaganda, conspiracy theories and the harsh, harsh reality of the daily grind. These are the themes that circulate and ignite within The New Normal, the state-of- the-union address by a trio of radical progressive anarchists, who created a one of a kind debut that is yet to be topped in the ever-growing field of Australian heavy rock. It's dense, aggressive and at times overwhelming, but you could never criticise it for having a dull moment. Where does one begin to describe the flying beat poetry of 'The River,' the devastating ten minutes of 'Doors,' or even the snarling hooks of 'Real Life,' 'Run' and 'My Enemy'? This is more than an album - it's an experience. Copeland's final album, You Are My Sunshine is a collection of bittersweet, pensive and euphoric moments in time, caught like sunrays and streamed through the heavens-high voice of Aaron Marsh.

'Should You Return' is a dream-pop shiver, 'Chin Up' stirs desperate emotion, 'The Day I Lost My Voice' quietly escalates into epic proportions and 'Not So Tough Found Out' burns slowly but ever so brightly.it's rare to find an album with so many songs within arm's reach of perfection. For fans of all kinds of indie and pop, this should basically be mandatory listening. Farewell, Copeland. Well, there's no use fighting it - Traced in Air is the best metal album of the decade. Every twist and sharp movement is an exciting joy; the shifts between the sweet vocoder harmonies and the guttural, piercing growls an initially shocking but ultimately rewarding display of versatility.

Your attention seldom wanes across eight engaging, intricately-arranged works of dense modern art - 'The Space for This' and 'King of Those Who Know' the best examples one can provide. This is a must-listen record.

No, we're not even talking genres any more. You'll be hard pressed to find a stronger, more forward-thinking and overall brilliant album from recent years. I first met Dan on an Australian tour in January of 2010, touring with a guy called Charlie Parr. I was floored by this charming, down-to-earth guy's ability to make music that had so much heart and honesty to it. All it took was a few chords and a particularly brilliant way with words, and I was all but hooked. I saw Dan three times on that tour, which culminated in me finally getting this record. Since then, it's difficult to explain just what these songs mean to me.

From the romantic tragedy of 'Fair Verona,' the happy-go-lucky 'Robots' and the tearful ballad 'Basket' to the lonesome chamber pop of 'You Silly Git' and the rollicking 'Sold,' there's not a song here that I haven't come to treasure like a long-lost friend. Yes, this is a five on almost entirely sentimental reasons. But I couldn't care less - Dan Mangan changes lives, though he'd be far too humble to ever admit it. I could go on for days on end trying to explain the beauty of Transatlanticism. The songwriting, the stories, the characters, the flow of it, the joy it has brought me.

But I'd be wasting your time. It's an album of pure emotions and pure sentiment - and for that reason, I don't think I will ever be able to explain just what this music means to me. But I'm okay with that now. After all, Transatlanticism has become part of me. So if you're ever speaking to me as a person, you're vicariously speaking to this album. Fucking hell.

Twenty minutes of punk rock perfection - the disgruntled nerds have taken over, and their victory could not be any sweeter. You literally have nothing to lose in experiencing this essential album.

It's been said that actions speak louder than words, and it's rarely truer than in the case of Ocean Songs - a heaving, devastating and powerful work of art that is also, tellingly, wordless. The instrumental trio build from calm water lapping at one's feet right up to treacherous, crashing waves of sound - sometimes within the same song. There are so many stories to be told here, of love and loss and distance and such.

The music says everything without a single lyric in sight. It's a feat that has been achieved in the past, certainly. Very few records, however, quite manage to translate with the level of impact that comes with Ocean Songs - if at all. An essential listen for pop and rock fans of every generation. If you have ever experienced the demise of a relationship, then there is plenty on this album to connect with - from the female perspective (Stevie Nicks), the gorgeous 'Dreams'; from the male perspective (Lindsey Buckingham), the anthemic 'Go Your Own Way' - to just give two examples. Brilliantly produced and masterfully created in a time of great tension between band members, Rumours may just be the best thing you'll find in your parent's music collection. The truth is, you only get out of Love Ire & Song what you put in.

If you haven't had a quarter-life crisis, been lost in a long-distance love, been disgusted with the cool kids or lost someone close to you, there's a chance that these songs might not mean much to you. If you have any idea of what Frank is singing about in these songs, however, maybe you'll find a soundtrack to your life.

For better and for worse. See what happens.

The language is not yours- the man sings in his native Aboriginal Australian language. And still, one feels a strong, purposeful connection with this man and his music. A voice that soars with true emphasis and stunning imagery (even when the words are not understood) leads these twelve incredible creations of music as a reclusive, quiet, blind man opens his heart and mind for the world to see. A truly breathtaking album. Well, I've given it a lot of thought.

And my answer is. It has come to this. Mean Everything to Nothing has become an expression of more than just an indie band and their music. It's an expression - of anger, frustration, fear, faith, love, death, desperation, need, depression and the finest of lines between pleasure and pain. The music soundtracking it is a repulsive scowl towards normality, filled with abrasive riffs and pulverizing movements; and Andy Hull's vocals make no compromises by either treading lightly through the atmosphere or ripping through with razor sharpness. Songs like 'I Can Feel A Hot One', 'Pride', 'Shake It Out' and 'The River' capture the imagination and assist its listeners in thinking, feeling and completely encapsulating the moments that are contained within them. Mean Everything to Nothing is 2009's most heartening experience, and one that will remain with you for quite some time to come.

'You mean everything to nobody but me.' This is polarising as f uck - you're going to learn that the hard way. But once this record clicks (which it hopefully will), you're looking at one of the most impressive albums of its time - infectious, offbeat and authentically creative music that can truly be defined as original. 'Vulture', 'Eat Your Heart', 'Just in Case' and 'Worst Bastard' are the highest recommended out of the batch, but it's all worth a listen. This wasn't supposed to happen. In a year of 'Laffy Taffy', 'Promiscuous' and 'London Bridge,' rock music was not supposed to sell - especially not rock music on this level of flamboyancy, conceptuality. With this unique rock opera, the band catapulted themselves to superstardom on the back of the best songs they had ever written, the tracklist reading now more like a highlight reel.

Try not to let your hips swing sinfully to the rambunctious 'House of Wolves,' get caught in the moment of the stirring 'I Don't Love You' or lose your voice singing every last word of the unforgettable anthems that were released as singles ('Welcome to the Black Parade', 'Famous Last Words' and 'Teenagers'). The Black Parade remains a standard-setter for rock music at this level, an LP that needs to be accepted for every last bell and whistle or not at all. Hands down one of the most genuinely excellent works in mainstream pop music since the turn of the century. Your attention does not even attempt to shift away from start to finish as two acts of fantastically written and performed rock operas- the first a synth-laden electropop adventure, the second a stark contrast with flamenco guitar, a horn section and a string quartet (amongst many others). What makes this so important a record is the fact that not a single album is quite like it, no matter how many Fall Out Boy comparisons you may choose to make.

Combining this and Pretty.Odd., it's plain to see this band as one for the history books if their track record continues with huge successes such as this. Foreign tapes comes from an unexpected place, edging its way inwards from just out of the left of centre. At times it explodes into flourishes of sound before imploding back in upon itself, whirring and humming through tiny spurts of electronica. A thousand voices guide you through surreal fantasy, intimate heartbreak and the natural cornerstones of love and loss. It's equally floaty and atmospheric as it is ferocious and acerbic.

It leaves you reaching for a dozen descriptive terms - all hyperbolic - at any given time. It's foreign tapes. It's not what you were expecting, but it's what you got.

Sia Furler has cemented herself as one of the most important figures in contemporary Australian music. Her passionate, soulful voice is matched with clever, wry and emotional lyrics that drive unique love ballads like 'Sweet Potato' and gorgeous tales of infatuation such as 'Natalie's Song'. The international hit in 'Breathe Me' is also of strong note, standing the test of time as a song of all-time greatness and instant recognition amongst ears of finer taste. The energy levels may vary between each track (from the percussive groove of 'The Bully' to the all out finale of 'Where I Belong'), but there isn't a single song here that will disinterest you as a listener - Colour The Small One is an audio experience of beauty, sweetness and grace; and easily one of Australia's most essential 21st century recordings. Diorama has seen a lot of praise in the six years since its release. It has been praised as a great Australian album, Silverchair's best and even a masterpiece. Whilst all these are certainly true, there's more to it than simply this.

This album has evolved into a cornerstone of modern Australian culture. Encompassing nearly every imaginable emotion and establishing the full-album experience that songwriters twice the age still struggle to achieve, the disturbed genius of Daniel Johns created a visionary technicolour dream. With his two best friends by his side, Silverchair created not only a timeless work, but an album that every Australian album since would be compared and contrasted.

As it stands, no album stands greater in Australian music history than Diorama. After only one EP, Silversun Pickups were just another American rock band making their way around the alternative rock circuit.

How it was even fathomable for them to create such a beautiful work of art at such an early stage is almost beyond comprehension. It all just doesn't make sense.and then you listen to the record itself. The music - a sparkling yet hard-hitting daydream, a sunlight-infested room of buzzes and brilliant shine. On showcase throughout, Brian Aubert's penetrating howls and helium rasps make for one of the most unique and genuinely interesting voices in rock music today. The four musicians that comprise Silversun tesellate in exceptional style, contrasting energy levels and developing a sound that recalls shoegaze, industrial, indie rock, grunge and the nineties movement of rock (no, not the goddamn Pumpkins); yet at the same time a movement and creation on its own level. The layered meanderings of 'Future Foe Scenarios', the steady rise and culminate explosion of 'Lazy Eye' and the jazz-like 'Waste it On' all present a listener with an amazing array of versatile rock songs that are amongst the best of the decade, let alone its year of release. And that is just the beginning - make no bones about it, Carnavas is an essential rock record.

Hands down one of the funniest and brilliantly conceived musicals of all time. Like you'd expect any less from the dirty motherfuckers who gave us Cannibal!

'Blame Canada' is perfect nationalist satire, 'Up There' gives us something to think about the ruler of Hell, 'I Can Change' is ridiculous fun (even more so when The Violent Femmes take it on when the movie songs finish) and the 'La Resistance' medley is just fucking brilliant. Hilarious and bizarrely poignant, the entire Bigger, Longer and Uncut affair is just as fun without the AV companionship. Thanks for asking. Sometimes, albums are regarded as 'classics' by absolutely every music fan, critic, lover, etc. You can think of. And you, in all of your blissful ignorance, won't really 'get it' at first. The Beach Boys' opus in Pet Sounds is one of those very records; passed down from generation to generation as a benchmark creation of popular music.

Initially, you will most likely be misunderstanding the album, and interpret on surface value as an album that's just boppy, charming, clever pop. More detailed and attentive listens, however, will ultimately establish it as something far more. You will learn, over time.

With every string-arrangement swell, with every thunder-strike drum roll, with every Wilson-arranged harmony falling into place, with every 'God Only Knows', 'That's Not Me', 'Wouldn't It Be Nice' and 'Caroline No'. It settles in. It becomes an old friend. This record is indisputably one the most immense, delicate and truly beautiful works of art to be found in the annals of music history, let alone pop music as a separate entity. Pet Sounds is evidence alone of claiming Brian Wilson as a genius. So hoist up the John B sail. Not a bad song in sight.

Lyrical genius. Engaging, charming, witty, brilliant, fearless, ridiculous, enthralling.

The Crane Wife is everything that The Decemberists is all about. A raw, unabashed vision of a poet, a madman and, first and foremost, a musician - Gareth Liddiard, and his band The Drones. Gala Mill is a collection of consistently outstanding, ingeniously written and, frankly, quite frightening songs. Based around tales of shattering loss, human demise and the life of early convicts and settlers in Australian history, this music will often leave you feeling threatened and short of breath. From the opening mammoth, 'Jezebel' to the quiet, subtly heartbreaking tale of 'Sixteen Straws', this is an album that needs to be experienced from start to finish as a landmark of 00s Australian music. You won't be the same after it clicks. It's still interesting to figure out just how the hell Jack and Meg pulled it off.

A tumbleweed of dirty delta blues, DIY ethics, primal drumming, commanding, eccentric vocals and one flaming red guitar. Elephant created, ultimately, a summation of everything that is great about rock music - straight, no chaser - in the twenty-first century. 'There's No Home For You Here' nails seventies-flavoured rock with layered harmonies, 'Ball and Biscuit' is arguably one of the best jam tracks on record since 'If Six Was Nine,' 'Little Acorns' still remains the most bizarre introduction of a song ever and 'You've Got Her In Your Pocket' is beautifully delivered by a pensive Mr. White on his lonesome.

That's not even getting started on the singles, which have remained staples of rock radio for very clear reasons. Yes, we know Meg isn't a brilliant drummer. We know that Jack's solos aren't thought out and meander far too much for their own good. We know how sick you are of hearing every school band cover 'Seven Nation Army.' This is an imperfectly perfect creation. The fact that this record still holds up in such impressive manner, years after its conception, whilst many of its peers fell off the face of the earth, speaks volumes about these addictive, intense, diverse and more-than-excellent songs. Just as there is a lot to be learned and admired about the animal kingdom, so too is the case of the curious beast that is Animals, one of the finest debut albums to be released in the 2000s - or any other decade, for that very matter.

Not quite comfortable in any one set genre, This Town expand their sounds across math-rock to indie-pop and back around again. There's a lot going on here - from the soaring vocals to the wild fray of guitar, Animals makes for exhausting but wholly rewarding listens, repeated and frequent in nature. It's ambitious, it's heartfelt and its meticulous creation means it's not only an absorbing listening experience, it's also a wholly fulfilling one. See what you can discover. 4.5 superb Maynard James Keenan had something up his sleeve when Tool decided not to speak to each other for twelve months.

With an all-star band, MJK formed A Perfect Circle. This is one of the closest times the eccentric Tool frontman has ever come to the second word in the band name: Mer de Noms is haunting, brooding and meticulously crafted music that shows not only a slightly more accessible side, but a far more vulnerable and emotive one as well. The beauty of songs like 'Orestes', '3 Libras' and 'Brena' will last with you for an exceptionally long period of time.

Something about albums that take the middle ground between where a band came from and where they were headed, mixing the best aspects of both, seem to do it for me the most. It would definitely explain why Rubber Soul is my favourite Beatles - and, indeed, why I love Sing the Sorrow so much. A dazzling, dark spectacle, AFI's shining moment brings their punk rock roots into a melodic progression. From the churning melodrama of 'The Leaving Song Part 2' to the fist-pumping 'Bleed Black' and beyond, Sing the Sorrow ultimately encompasses everything that makes A Fire Inside worth listening to.

While Nevermind might have defined a generation of aggressive, confused teen dudes, it wasn't until a few years later that the ladies had a voice. A much more radio-friendly one with half a dozen hit singles, sure, but a voice nonetheless. Alanis Morrissette, at this stage in her career, represents a refusual to accept things the way they are. She's mad as f uck and she's not going to take it anymore. Men are backstabbing, useless bastards.

Bad luck follows the human race around every turn. Things will never turn out the way that we want them to.

But Jagged Little Pill isn't a list of complaints, no sir. It's a bold, confident and uncompromising young woman that is going to deal with these problems if it kills her. Essential listening. Gift of Gab and Chief Xcel present listeners here with an eclectic, left-of-centre collection of exceptionally well-executed hip-hop. Sliding effortlessly from roller-disco grooves to keyboard-lead slow jams, the album displays an impressive array of beats and fantastic bass lines. Standouts include the stripped-back 'Make You Feel That Way' and the nine-minute hip-hop epic 'Release', which features the genius poetry of the visionary Saul Williams and the hands-up-in-the-air feelgood flows of Lyrics Born. The defining moment of the careers of DeLonge, Hoppus and Barker at the time of its release.

The band had always shown a flash of their serious sides on previous albums (Stay Together For The Kids, Adam's Song, etc), and they were the highlights of those records; but could never keep it consistent. What this album did was keep consistent, not indulging on fart jokes- and the result was brilliant. The darker side of blink-182 (I Miss You, The Fallen Interlude, All Of This, to name a few), in the end, brought out the best in them. Daisy is just as good as people believe. At times, even better.

Anyone that knows something about music besides this decade knows that Brand New is more like Brand New right now than ever before. This is Brand New’s troubled-mind record with some gritty emotion throw in the mix, but different than their previous records – where The Smiths/Morrissey influences work beautifully – it’s no longer really present to me: I can’t help but think about how good Brand New are while listening. And how they’ve done before and only once have they made a record as good as this ( The Devil and God). People saying that this is better than Thrice’s Beggars or any of Brand New’s previous are right. In short: Brilliant record is brilliant. Epic win, Brand New, way to go. Now Jesse, start working on a solo record asap and blow us away, will ya?

The late comedian Bill Hicks once said of what made great music- 'I want someone who plays from his f ucking heart.' With this definition in mind, one would be hard pressed to find one more fitting than singer-songwriter Jesse Lacey. Alongside his band, Brand New, Lacey presents the listener with a defining album, complete with vented frustrations, paranoid questionings of faith, showing of scars and both the light and the dark of what a human can feel. Despite a slightly lacking second half and a superfluous reprise of highlight 'Luca', this album's quality is at times overwhelming- this is some of the best music to be released in years. How do you describe the beauty of an album that leaves you completely lost for words?

An album of defiant art that redefines alternative hip-hop for a new generation. Australian music isn't getting much better than this right now. Beautiful harmonies, strong songwriting skill and some unforgettable tunes, Cloud Control are just plain wonderful. What the FUCK is this?

Album of the fucking year, that's what it is. Ferocious, schizophrenic and volatile experimental music that takes everything that was good about the first record and makes it even BETTER. From Jonsi's vocals cut up and demolished across a thudding rhythm, to the spastic rage of 'Doe Deer', everything here is a winner. Rest of 2010 had better fucking well shape up, y'all. A groundbreaking, revolutionary release which took the concept of illegal art to the next level.

What we have here is a collision course between two defining acts of their times, The Beatles and Jay-Z, who prove the diversity of defining genius. The newfound contexts of Jigga's lyrics not only work in a shockingly seamless fashion, but leave the listener wondering why on earth hip-hop producers hadn't looked into the Lennon/McCartney catalogue for samples before- 'What More Can I Say' and 'December 4' are especially brilliant creations. In terms of not only hip-hop, but sampling, mash-ups and recomposition, this is a triumphant release. Describe Curse Your Branches in 25 words or less. 'I think that this is a beautiful experiment', says guitarist Chris Walla.

One cannot help but agree as you watch the eleven truly brilliant videos made for each of the outstanding songs on Death Cab For Cutie's major-label debut. Highlights include 'What Sarah Said', 'Summer Skin' and the touching 'Stable Song'. P.S: PLEASE ignore the other soundoffs.

This is NOT a covers album. Bitches who can't handle the nu Zef flow can get fucked. That's something, right there, that is. On 'If I Had', from the Slim Shady LP, Eminem began the song with the phrase 'Life, by Marshall Mathers'. Unfortunately, that record proved to be more about his maniacal alter-ego, Slim Shady, as the title would suggest. This record, however, is truly Marshall Mathers- an essay on hate, love, confrontation, family, the media and the hypocritical way of things in the modern world.

This is truly 'Life, by Marshall Mathers'. Call it disgusting, as 'Zoe' did on the Slim Shady LP.

Call it misogynistic, as many amongst the pop music community and mainstream media chose to do. Honestly, call it whatever the hell you like- just don't try to pass this off as anything short of a milestone in popular music. As far as the poppier side of electronica goes, this is the best thing you are going to find.

A courageously varied, gorgeously arranged and masterfully executed collection of songs that stand not only head and shoulders above its contemporaries, but managed to set a standard that not even Imogen Heap herself has managed to top. Highlights of the record include the one-two introduction of Let Go and Breathe In, songs I regard as some of my all-time favourites, as well as Pyschobabble, Only Got One and The Dumbing Down of Love. Highly recommended, no matter what your preferred field of music. Australia's first and foremost contemporary writer - writer overall, not just songwriter - has delivered another beautiful work, for the first time away from The Drones. Just the man and his acoustic guitar, it's balladry at its finest, with long, winding tales of love, loss, the human condition and Australian history. A performer like no other, Strange Tourist is yet another essential album from the genius that is Gareth Liddiard.

Music is evolving at a ridiculously rapid rate. If you'd have said a few years ago that just one man with a knack for sampling and a few good programs on his laptop could create not only one of the best records of the year, but one of the most critically-acclaimed live shows on the planet, then you'd probably get the s hit kicked out of you. Thankfully, today's world and technology in particular allows this to happen. Greg Gillis slams together odd couples better than Gnarls Barkley AND Jack Lemmon and Walter Mattheau put together. Lil Mama, Metallica, Lil Wayne, the Chili Peppers, T.I.

And Sinead O'Connor.the list only gets better from there. Hugely exciting, hugely danceable, hugely unique- this is what party albums should be. I had my doubts. The second that Mr.

West announced his next record would be entirely sung, as opposed to his normal rapping, teeth were grit and lips were bitten. A disaster was predicted. And then?a miracle occurred. 808s and Heartbreak is a brilliant album.

No longer does his cocky, self-assured side take prominence in his music as it has so frequently done in the past. There?s certainly no?Good Life? To be found on 808s- this is an album of frustration, distance, loss, anxiety and a life in lethargy. West risked commercial and critical success in favour of creating something completely on his own terms- and if songs like Say You Will, Robocop and Street Lights are anything to go by, perhaps his risks are worth taking more often.

The joining of these two singers, both in holy matrimony and in music, wasn't just luck - this kind of connectivity has destiny written all over it. Chambers and Nicholson have created one of the landmark Australian releases of the decade - perfectly harmonious, melodic, powerfully emotional and instantly lovable. From the nomad blues of the title track to the cold, fragile acoustic numbers such as 'Adeline' and 'One More Year', the couple bring to life tales of love, loss, travel and new life.

Strongly recommended for fans of country, bluegrass and folk from all walks of life. If there's one album I never expected to be brilliant, it was Kate Nash's. The single was a sugary treat, but what from there? Many more simplistically beautiful pop numbers was the answer- the adorably silly metaphor of Birds, the fast-paced hyperactivity of Mariella and the Octopus' Garden bop of Merry Happy all made for some quality listening and some good old singalongs.

But it didn't stop there. There is a genuine sense of sincere and even autobiographical mannerisms throughout the music- from the lyrics, to the childlike piano right down to Nash's unforced accent. And when the music isn't joking around, we get incredibly honest and moving songs such as Nicest Thing and Little Red. Let's forget about any inch of hype or promotion surrounding this young lady here- this is true talent, true emotion and an exceptional, underrated album. Very special indeed. In our last encounter with the band, they were making glorious, uplifting piano rock.

This time, however, it's quite the different story- a melancholic and sombre collection of electronic delicacies with a distinctively dark underbelly. 'Try Again' is a late-night daze, 'Broken Toy' is a jazzy portrayal of a broken heart and 'Hamburg Song' is a genuinely beautiful composition which depicts the demise of frontman Tom Chaplin. The most alarming thing about that, however, is that it is Chaplin singing these words about himself from the perspective of another- pianist Tim Rice-Oxley.

These were dark and tumultuous times for the band, and this is reflected throughout the album in a layered and honest way. With a new record on the way, it seems almost Mission: Impossible that the band will better this record. If they do, however, we'll be experiencing something remarkable. The British trio came out of practically nowhere and released the best debut album of the year. Amazing vocals, soaring atmospherics, tight drumming and beautiful piano work made this an all-round winner.

Who the fuck is Alex Robertson? Come Around Sundown is their best album since their debut, and quite possibly the rock album of the year.

The Fame is fun. The Fame is catchy. The Fame is ridiculous. The Fame is brilliant.

You are shit. The Fame is not.

Marina Diamandis has made one of the year's most fabulous debuts. This is exactly the kind of clever, innovative and charming pop music that thrives on quirks and defies standard structure and convention. Liven up a little and take the right path down Mowgli's Road. One of the best debuts of 2005. Some exceptional production, excellent lyrics and a powerful message of racial inequalities in the U.K. The group are releasing a new record in a matter of months; and indeed it will be interesting to see if this album will be topped.

Almost criminally underrated, this is Nasir Jones' concept album in which modern technology is embraced in the beats, often with brilliant results (the uplifting 'Blunt Ashes' and the hard-hitting title track as examples). Lyrically on fire, Nas is loaded with accusations, anger, reflections on life and even a bizarre change of character on 'Who Killed It?' Even when former rival Jay-Z briefly steals the show on the excellent 'Black Republican', this is a shining point in the fruitful yet occasionally hit-and-miss career of Nas. Arguably his best since Illmatic, and certainly his best this century. Ahead of its time, delicate and an outright powerful record, Nick Drake surrounds his quaint fingerpicking with piano tinkering and gorgeously arranged sections that enhance the music that much further. Songs such as River Man and Day Is Done will haunt you for many moons to pass.

As the vocals linger and sting with such conviction and emotion, you cannot help but wonder exactly how this phenomenal performer went so unnoticed in life. If you don't like this album, you're just not getting what's going on. If you don't like this album, you're missing the point. If you don't like this album, you've more than likely never experienced heartbreak. If you don't like this album, you can't appreciate the delicate, serene beauty created in every song's atmosphere. More to the point, if you don't like this album, you're Adam Knott.

And, frankly, that's just knott going to stand. I get really frustrated when Silversun Pickups get compared to Smashing Pumpkins, or when Mika gets compared to Queen.

Similarly, I really don't appreciate all the Beatles comparisons that have gone into Pretty. It's as if that's the only possible comparison to be made to a collection of classically-influenced guitar pop songs. There's a lot more to it than that, and herein lies the album's appeal. Urie's voice has flexibility and a much warmer tone, many new avenues of the band's overall sound were explored and it's another fun and layered adventure in music, much like Fever was. This album needs time- Lord knows I had to give it plenty- but the reward is more than worth it. Soul Function: noun 1: the immaterial essence, animating principle, or actuating cause of an individual life 2: the spiritual principle embodied in human beings, all rational and spiritual beings, or the universe bcapitalized Christian Science 3: a person's total self 4: an active or essential part 5: the moral and emotional nature of human beings 6: person 7: personification 8: a: a strong positive feeling (as of intense sensitivity and emotional fervor) 9: Sam Cooke What the fuck are you looking at me like that for? Well, what can I say?

This is a really wonderful album. It's intelligently written, perfectly arranged and home to some of the catchier left-of-centre pop songs of the 2000s.

The guitars roar, the vocals are dripping with harmony and passion and it all just feels so fucking glorious, man. It's a pleasure to listen to, every single time. So stop looking at me like that. This is the record that broke System Of A Down into the mainstream, and it couldn't have come at a better time. The best way to describe this sound is to take the genre of 'nu-metal' at the time and arm it with literacy skills, leftist opinions and, surprisingly enough, pop sensiblities.

It may sound awkward on paper but this album just WORKS. There is a wide array of music here, from the ridiculously outspoken (Prison Song), the ridiculously catchy (Forest), the ridiculous angsty (Needles) to the just plain ridiculous (Bounce). Sure, there are tracks better than others here. But there isn't a terrible or even bad song present on Toxicity; and this is why SOAD broke and became so popular. An excellent record that has stood the test of time. It begins with distorted screaming going head-to-head with a churning, downtuned guitar. Some thirty-odd minutes later, it ends with a wall of feedback and a speech from Charlie Chaplin.

In the in-between, The Chariot deliver their most ambitious, belligerent and, ultimately, finest LP to date. One Wing refuses to let the loss of long-time bassist Jon Kindler reduce the band to a three-legged dog: instead, the band move into territory both traditionally chaotic ('Not,' 'in') and surprisingly left-of-centre (see the spaghetti western progression of 'First' or the shaken piano balladry of highlight 'Speak').

They show a hunger for creativity, longing beyond the binary-code riffs that have sunken their contemporaries. With it, they've created one of the most rewarding albums of 2012. A new chapter begins. If you're into Australian music at all, no doubt you've heard great things about the Drones.

Just in case you've never listened.they're all true. With their fourth record, the Drones continue on the warpath with a passive-aggressive undercurrent omnipresent throughout the album's entirety. From the electric alt-country stomp of opener 'Nail it Down' or the emotional shipwreck of 'Careful as You Go', the raw howls of frontman Gareth Liddiard accompany his magnificent lyrical imagery to a t. It's very difficult to pinpoint exactly what drives the band musically, but there is no doubt that the band are already off to a flying start in becoming one of the greatest Australian bands of all time. If you haven't heard Boxer yet, chances are one of the magazines you read put it in its top ten list of 2007. Chilling low key vocals in the spirit of the late Johnny Cash or a young Paul Banks tell masterful tales of how a globalized lifestyle has infected ways of being, or of fragile moments of lost intimacy - all accompanied by excellently toned guitar and drums that crack and thud in all the right moments. There are quite a few points on the record, such as 'Mistaken For Strangers' or 'Apartment Story', where you may come to the conclusion that music should not be allowed to be this good- a world of emotion, pain and isolation never sounded as fantastic in terms of indie rock.

Far surpassing the band's previous effort, Alligator, this is a record that you must own. Pop-punk, as a whole, isn't exactly the kind of genre that breeds masterpieces. The closest it will ever get is From Under The Cork Tree. Oh, and this. Based On A True Story is a diverse, witty, energetic and genuine body of work. Its genius lies in the fact the lyrics and concept of the overall album, the work of one Kenny Vasoli, is obviously very personal and introspective; and yet manages to be universal enough that it can connect with many.certainly when I first heard this album in 2005, it became the soundtrack to my life.

So many years on, the album still has life and a connectivity to growing up in this day and age- and it nails it far greater than any other of their contemporaries. A landmark Australian release.

Tim Freedman's unmistakable songwriting and subtly piercing vocals give a poignancy and genuine emotion that few other songwriters in Australia can really take on properly. Highlights include the beautiful Charlie trilogy, 'Up Against The Wall's spiraling tirade against a former lover, and the undeniable modern classic that is No Aphrodisiac. Simply, the band's best release and for you, dear reader, an undiscovered gem. 4.0 excellent I will always love this.

I'll never know exactly why. Conor Oberst is a unique individual, that's a certainty. Always finding intriguing and important ways of expressing his views through the majesty of song. Here is no exception- I'm Wide Awake is a collection of mostly intimate, raw acoustic observation of the world around.

The only exception to this rule, ironically, is the album highlight- album closer Road to Joy is a brilliant, layered jam session with erratic guitar and wild blurts of trumpet. Also worth checking out is the pensive First Day of My Life, the soaring Landlocked Blues and the quiet-is-the-new-loud glory of Lua. I think Cee Lo Green is a pretty cool guy. Eh sees you driving 'round town with the girl he loves and doesn't afraid of anything. After the modern classic that was Transatlanticism, Death Cab for Cutie decided quiet was the new loud on Plans. This time, however, on their second album for a major label, they just weren't sure where to go. Fuelled by Jack Kerouac and Can, the band decided to delve both into the past ('No Sunlight', 'Cath.'

And 'Long Division' all could have been on their Architecture era records) and into the future ('Bixby Canyon Bridge' and the immense 'I Will Possess Your Heart' show promise for a complete band progression). It doesn't always work, let alone flow, but it is a strong release nonetheless. Yes, it's a little samey in parts. Yes, it takes itself far too seriously.

Yes, this is black metal. Having said that, this is still by far one of the best metal releases of the year- consistent, flowing, energetic and just a little bit ridiculous. Amongst a plethora of bands on the hardcore scene in Britain caring more about what they're wearing than what they're playing, it has been hugely depressing seeing bands like Bring Me The Horizon explode worldwide. One band amongst the community, however, stood out, to use some British slang, like dog's bollocks.

Enter Shikari didn't so much arrive as stagedive headfirst into it- and if their debut is anything to go by, then they're here to stay. Two things set them apart. The first is the inclusion of some highly danceable and well-executed synth and electronic drum patterns- of course, they're not the first to pull such a thing off, but I'm strained to think of one that's done it better in recent years. The second is the genuine sense of fun about their music- the energy levels are always high, and even when vocalist Rou Reynolds is screaming to the point where it is noticeably straining his voice, the music never seems angry or overly aggressive. From the insistent catchiness of 'Sorry You're Not A Winner', the anthemic self-titled track and the sentimental ballad 'Adieu', Enter Shikari cover a lot of ground. They show a lot of promise for the future- and I can't wait to see just where they go from here. Standard editions of the album should come with a spare pare of underpants.

Had they trimmed the fat here and perhaps gone a little harder, this could have been the best Foo Fighters record since the last one Pat Smear was involved with, The Colour and the Shape. For now, this is a very easily likable rock and roll album, kicking up the energy and making sure that every chorus lasts in your head for days on end.

The triple guitar attack is a pretty nice treat, too. At least it's not naff to be a Foo Fighters fan anymore.

This is as raw and real as hardcore music has been in the past few years. Vocalist Frank Carter howls, seeths and screams through an epic, solid hardcore punk record that anyone who is truly into the 'punk' scene should appreciate. A real breath of fresh air on a scene taken over by bands who care more about what they wear than what they play. Classic hardcore. Loud, fast, thrashing and angry as hell.yet with a strong, positive and meaningful message?

Damn, who'd have thunk it? Highlights include New Direction, Two Sides and Start Today, which is quite possibly my favourite hardcore song of all time. Dammit, once you eliminate the hype and begin to cut to the core of Veckatimest, you've got yourself a fucking good record.

At first, the album will seem boring and difficult to take in. Following this will be a development of interest in particular tracks - the swaying 'Cheerleader', the chiming and harmonious 'Two Weeks' and the divine 'Foreground' just a few examples. Finally, you will find yourself immersed in the entire record as a listening experience.

And by this point, you're soaked head to toe in charming, soulful and heartfelt indie-leaning pop. Very much worth the effort.

This right here is a celebration of hip-hop. Nearly 10 years after the game-changer that was The Calling, Adelaide's finest come the closest they ever have to topping that record. A matured, focused and engaging album that still manages to keep the group's sound as lively as ever. It might have taken awhile away from music and touring for the Hoods to achieve this sound, but the end result is more than worth it.

The bar is set once again by the original and the best. Who'd have thought, out of all the downtuned dreadlocked stoner dudes to kick it in bands around the mid 90s, it would be Incubus that survived the longest? After perhaps overshooting the mark somewhat with the dissapointing Light Grenades, the band have reconvened and put their name to a mature, focused and textured album.

Still sonically interesting without sacrificing the core of what made them interesting to begin with, the band have reinvented themselves successfully - Boyd, in particular, has rarely sounded this good from a purely vocal perspective. This will piss off people looking for a new 'Certain Shade of Green,' or even a new 'Take Me To Your Leader.' For those still willing to stick with the band, however, this is easily their finest album since Morning View. Who the fuck is someguest? Once again, Jimmy Eat World have delivered another great pop record that worms its way into your head with hook after hook after hook. Adkins is a smart and intriguing lyricist and can still hold a tune as well as he could in the Clarity days, if not more so now. Highlights include Big Casino, Electable, Gotta Be Somebody's Blues and Dizzy.

Probably won't win any new fans, but will most certainly please current ones. This is love.

Jonathan is love. Love love love. That's a sound off. A pop juggernaut. A dancefloor anthem. A Prince tribute album.

A sex-obsessed concept album. Thriller for the 21st century. A hell of a good time. The crown jewel atop the head of the new king of pop. FutureSex/LoveSounds was all of these things upon its release. And still is.

So, this grew on me quicker than genital warts. Was a lot more pleasant, thankfully - fun, boppy and memorable pop results in one of the best records of 2010. In context, this was the creative explosion of the Hooper siblings that they had worked so very hard to finally create and release after catching their big break from Triple J's Unearthed competition. The result was an enthusiastic and infectious collection of spaced-out pop that's rough around the edges whilst still maintaining rock music roots.

Lead single 'Weir' has stood the test of time as one of the great modern works of Australian pop music, but this record holds so much more instore for its listeners: the slow-burning 'A Jar Labelled Small', the twirling 'Leave Me Alone' and the gorgeous 'Black Sheep' are just a handful of examples. They never matched the greatness of this record ever again, but Reflector still remains a solid release. I'm wrong about this album, and I'm more than aware of it. But I don't think I want to be right this time - there's too much stuff on here that's just stupidly good fun for me to deny it. Go back to your cynical ways and I'll teach the underage kids to rawk mawsh.

BLEED IT OUTTTTTT. One of the more impressive debut albums of its time, here the band took the 'teen angst' module to a new generation. 'Shut up while I'm talking to you' replaced 'fuck you, I won't do what you tell me', and the kids were hooked. As cliche-ridden as it all sounds, Hybrid Theory still contains some excellent pop songs with catchy hooks and riffs, and turntablist Joe Hahn lets loose (unfortunately not as present on their other two records), bringing a new dimension to the songs.

Country music might have started as a man's world, but in the 21st century it's women like Lambert who are setting the standards. Revolution is smart, sassy, sweet and delicately harmonic, but it's also a great excercise in dynamics between sugary pop and dust-kickin' country. It might be unfashionable, but Miranda is doing it better than anyone else right now, and that's what matters the most. After a raw, uneasy introduction to the band on I Brought You My Bullets, this is a far more focused and energetic release from My Chemical Romance.

A melodramatic, hyperactive and thoroughly enjoyable rock album that flaunts both melody and intensity in its thirteen tracks, although not entirely on a consistent basis. A rarity for Neil Young fans, but a fantastic collection of live tracks nonetheless. Performing with arguably his best non-Crazy Horse lineup, Harvest's Stray Gators, we're treated to a set of tightly performed and consistently engaging numbers. Highlights include a solo 'Yonder Stands the Sinner' and the big finale of 'Last Dance'. Worth a download if you can't find the LP.

With Vs., Pearl Jam began to wane the 'grunge' tag and expand their sound to include influence of everything from heartland rock to early funk. Whilst slightly lacking the spark of Ten, the album is still home to some of the band's defining songs: Animal, Daughter and Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town are the strongest examples of this. Not their finest hour, but invariably an essential addition to your Pearl Jam collection. Have you ever enjoyed an album in ridiculous amounts and have never been able to properly explain just why? In a way, that's me and this record right here. So what the hell is it that has made Karma and Effect so damn listenable to me over the years? Could it be the damn-near-irresistible accessibility of the mix of downtuned Cobain-isms and guitar pop hooks?

Perhaps Shaun Morgan's ear for a tight song structure and big choruses? Maybe even the fact that you're drawn back to each and every song for a variety of different reasons? Whatever it is, Karma and Effect is a triumphant album- it soars where most of its contemporaries plod, and (in a shocking turn for a post-grunge record) manages to get everything right for once. From the second the slide guitar creeps into your speakers, Heaven is Whenever sees The Hold Steady get back to what they do best, after the hit-and-miss affair of Stay Positive. The lyrics are fantastic stories of love and misfortune, the guitar is more prominent and sharp in its delivery and there's not an unmemorable song to be found amongst these ten tracks. At first it's likable, but as the highlights become more prominent - such as the lovelorn hook of 'Hurricane J' and the punchy single 'The Weekenders' - so does the album's excellence.

Welcome back, boys. Sorry to hear about Franz.

Following up what was quite possibly the best debut album of 2004 was never going to be an easy feat. Still, Brandon Flowers and co. Did a fucking good job with Sam's. It's an ambitous set of anthems and rockers, with the guitar dragged through the dirt right up to the front and centre, leaving the polished synth to the side for the most part. It's a gamble - Hot Fuss thrived on the buzzing electronic sounds - but if songs like 'Confessions of a King', 'Uncle Jonny' and the swelling epic of the title track are anything to go by, it was worth the risk. One of the more memorable cuts of 2006, it's difficult not to enjoy your stay in Sam's Town. Even if it's just for the day.

In a bizarre turn of events, TVotR haven't managed to make the best album of the year like they threatened to with 2008's brilliant Dear Science. With that said, they've still put together what is so far THE best second half of a 2011 album. Starting with the withered melancholy of 'Will Do' and ending with the aggrovated swagger of 'Caffeinated Consciousness,' these five songs are amongst the band's finest ever work. The first half is not to be underrated, but tracks 6 through 10 are truly what pushes Nine Types from goodness to utter greatness. The late Gerard Smith has left a remarkable legacy with this. And on the eighth day, the geek messiah rose again. 3.5 great Making a change for the better from their metalcore chuggery, Atreyu have released their most accessible, and in turn most enjoyable record to date.

The vocals (even the god-awful screams) have made a huge improvement here, and even the more generic tracks have good hooks and tighter musicianship. They're never going to make truly great music, or be a truly great band. But dammit, kudos to them for trying. So, how many people do you think have rated this a 1 because they think it's crabcore, do you reckon? Certainly she's reached new levels of slutdom now, but back in the day Miss Avril Lavigne Whibley was everybody's guilty pleasure. A star cast of writers and producers make the sugar-sweet guitar pop that much more accessible and enjoyable, but Lavigne's biting accent and high-note hairbrush singing define these songs.

'I'd rather be anything but ordinary, please!' She moans halfway through the album. She delivers for the most part on this wish- see the angsty 'Losing Grip' and 'Unwanted', the little-girl-lost ballads of 'I'm With You' and 'Naked' and the undeniably catchy 'Sk8er Boi'- but a lot of the non-single territory seems far too forced, and things really didn't get that much better for Avril from here. Everybody with me: 'Why'd you have to go and make things so complicaaaatedd.' It's ironic that this album is my most enjoyed Britney Spears album and Britney herself is arguably the least important part of it. The production on the album is exceptional, the beats catchy and addictive, the choruses repetitive but effective. Even while we try to figure out just what 'cold as fire, hot as ice' means.

'Blackout' has already gone platinum here in Australia and will probably do so again. Are people buying this just because it's Britney (bitch)? If anyone else was in charge of this record, would it suck? Again, probably- but the point here is that Danja has climbed another rung of the ladder to becoming the next Timbaland, and if he keeps this quality work up then his rise shall be much, much quicker than usual. Brit is very much in the deep end of electronic pop music now, and there's no going back.

Really, though, when you've got such a strong hit ratio in contrast to weaker moments, she doesn't particularly need to. Femme Fatale keeps her head above water with excellent production, arena-sized synths and some inventive choruses. Not everything is quite as inspired as it makes itself out to sound, and it could well be argued that Spears herself is becoming a less important factor of the songs themselves with each release. Still, this is a strong release in her post-'comeback' era, sitting just below Circus (I don't know who that random is BELOW ME, but Circus is pretty clearly her best album, duh) and around the same level of quality as Blackout. It's Britney, bitch. You don't care? Cool, go back to your fucking Protest the Hero.

Glen Benton and his posse of grumpy devil-worshippers came back with a punch on this record, the first featuring their two new guitarists. The guitar work is exceptional, with riffs as hooky as death metal will get anytime soon and some blazing solos for good measure. Sure Benton hasn't changed his lyrical content since.well, ever- but it's still a solid release from a veteran metal band. Bad news first, I guess- the record could have easily been one disc and the bad songs here are really, really bad. A lot of the songwriting is either tacky or just plain obvious here, as well.

But if you're an Eagles fan, this just doesn't matter, as the band have made a record faithful to their roots- still the same old fantastic harmonies, some good guitar work (it's Joe Walsh, people- you can't go wrong!) and a title track that can proudly be shelved alongside some of the other truly great Eagles songs of yesteryear. The voice of a post-hardcore angel. Jonny Craig's impressive, versatile and emotive vocal delivery will floor you on first listen - 'The Past Should Stay Dead' a perfect example of this. The album continues on in a vein similar to that of Emery and Circa Survive, yet manages to seek out its own sound that melds into a different beast entirely. It's a rarity that this kind of music manages to strike such a chord, but Emarosa have easily managed to do so on their more-than-impressive debut.

GROUPLOVE make the kind of life-filled, excitingly earnest indie pop that full validates the all-caps spelling of their name. If their Modest Mouse-esqe jangle of 'Colours' doesn't sell you - or at least put a smile on your face - then there's no saving you. You all know those five mopey kids who called out 'cut my wrists and black my eyes'.

But what became of them after that? A few things- firstly, they learned how to create some great guitar pop songs. Secondly, they discovered the joys of melody and catchy hooks, improving drastically from their previous record. Lastly, they started enjoying themselves. Sure, the themes are similarly bleak, and they haven't become genius songwriters overnight. But the Hawthorne Heights that we find on this album are far smarter, far more skilled at their art and genuinely more exciting than before. And the beauty of this is the fact their best work is still ahead of them.

JASONNNNNNNN DERUUUUUUUULOOOOOOOO But srsly. Baby, Somebody to Love, Runaway Love, Eenie Meenie and Up are all solid pop tunes, and even when you feel slightly dirty for buying into the teen pop sensation, the pleasure is guilty as charged. Bieber is an impressive force to the point where even when you give this album a one after hearing fifteen seconds of one song, he still wins because you're still talking about him. You know how DaveyBoy goes on about how Hysteria has 'the best four-song sequence in musical history'?

Fuck that, I think All I Ever Wanted may have it - 'My Life Would Suck Without You' is pure electro-pop joy, 'I Do Not Hook Up' is explosive and anthemic, 'Cry' is one of her best vocals atop what could be her best post- Breakaway ballad and 'Don't Let Me Stop You' is the sinister, paranoid cousin of 'Behind These Hazel Eyes'. It's definitely the best introductory section of a pop record in recent years, that's for sure. The rest of the songs are pretty beast, too; even if the record is a little overlong. Clarkson rules supreme, bitch.

And they're back. A lot can change in five years, but this has given Metallica ample breathing space to focus on getting back to what they do best- making great, loud, fast and thrashing music.

Essentially, Death Magnetic takes the band out of the ditch they found themselves in because of drop-C and tin cans, and position themselves for a ride down easy street. Everything you hear on this record, 'Tallica have done before (and, in some cases, done better). This will probably serve as a negative for a lot of fans. For what it's worth, though, this is a hell of a fun listen- big choruses, a triumphant return of Kirk Hammett's skillful solos, an obsession with having EVERY song in the key of E, exciting bridges and a completion of the 'Unforgiven' saga with unexpectedly brilliant results. This certainly isn't Metallica's best, nor is it a revolution of sound.

But it is proof enough that the legends aren't ready to nail in that coffin just yet. Now shut up and get your air guitar or Guitar Hero- Lars and co. Sweet, charming, delightful. This is what Nizlopi's all about - the authentic Bri'ish accent, creaking double bass, jangly acoustics and heartfelt songs of love, family and life. It may get a little cheesy at times, but songs like 'JCB', 'Girls' and 'Long Distance' will all feel like a warm, much-needed hug after awhile.

Bless these kids. It'd be easy to just release lethargic, excuse-to-tour records for a band like Pearl Jam.

But in my mind, this is a group that keeps on giving. This is every bit as gentle as it is rocking, as cynical as it is hopeful.a very balanced and focused album. Some are calling it their best since Yield. I'm not sure if I'd hand that to them just yet, but for what it's worth this is a great album. Horrible recording and production quality are the main detractor from the record.

Whilst we currently face a loudness war, this record suffers its antithesis- you actually have to turn it up a great deal to hear anything. Having said that, there is some excellent, dirty blues to be found here once you have achieved the correct volume- the highlight, naturally, being the filthy 'Fifty Foot Queenie'. Predominanty a hardcore-fans-only affair, but the best thing to take from the record is that things only got better from here.

Arguably the most lucid thing Radiohead have ever recorded. This is a smooth, spaced-out jazzy cruise that relies heavily on the atmospherics and ambience created within it. It's not one of their best albums by any stretch, but it's very easy listening and engaging in that ever-intriguing post- OK Computer style that reminds you that Radiohead are changing the questions just as you've figured out the answers. Look at all of you pretending you wouldn't pee in her butt the first chance you got.

Okay, so it's way too long and some of these songs were in serious need of editing. That said, this is home to some of her best work yet - very cute, very energetic and genuinely lovely. T-Sweezy is off heezy, biznitches. Let me tell you a story, boys and girls, about a time when Jared Leto wasn't content on being the most intolerable rockstar douchebag this side of Bono. He actually had an idea on how to make some pretty listenable space rock. Still amazingly pretentious dickwad, but you'll be damned if Capricorn, Echelon and Buddha for Mary aren't freaking awesome tunes. Time flies, huh.

Wonder what his pink mohawk is up to these days. Women can be scary sometimes, but not even your manipulative ex can hold a candle to a woman brave enough to front a metal band. Whilst Candace Kucsulain doesn't have the borderline-demonic grit of Angela Gossow, she still commands with brutal, tirade-spouting vocals which are backed perfectly by howling guitars and unrelenting blasts of drums. Of course, many of the breakdowns are ill-fitting, and their movement into ballad territory most probably should have been avoided. What's good on here, however, is simply exceptional. A diverse, unapologetic and apocalyptic release from a band that can only get better.

3.0 good In Da Club is a certified smash. Patiently Waiting is explosive. Is still ridiculous fun. Many Men (Wish Death) is the greatest thing he has ever put his name to in his entire career. Sure, 50 may as well be serving out a life sentence in Hell now; but when this dropped the motherfucker was practically untouchable.

3.5 - 4 rating for its time, but for now it's just a good record. Ahh, Acca Dacca. In the studio, they haven't been relevant in the slightest since 1980.

Live, however, they remain one of the most exciting and enjoyable acts around. This massive performance is no exception to this rule- even the mediocre tracks from their Johnson-era records rock and roll with the best of their classic tracks. The highlight here, however, is a ten-minute plus rendition of 'Jailbreak', with an intense breakdown that the highly enthusiastic crowd laps up. First things first- this is not a user friendly record. Chances are you'll be like myself and have an initial bad reaction to the album. Most, however, have gone on to speak godlike praises of it. Certainly, there is evidence of a band with a lot of potential here- 'An Interview At The Ruins' is a particularly great display of what the band can do, featuring emphatic guitar, loud erratic drums and unexpected shifts in tone.

The build-ups, changes in tempo and sudden explosions of full-band accompaniment makes for very interesting listening, certainly assisting it in standing out amongst their contemporaries. It is a redundant argument to oppose the genuine passion that has gone into this release, as well- despite the awful mix and production, this is certainly a finished product constructed with a lot of heart. With this in mind, there is still undoubtedly a lot here that simply does not work- 'Same Shade As Concrete' is decidedly awful and unlistenable for the most part, and both 'Kill The Switch' and 'A Crater to Cough In' are ridiculously overlong and pointlessly stretched, despite having some interesting sections. The vocalists, too, have much room for improvement- not even gargantuan truckloads of emotion can stop the screams from predominantly sounding thin, uncomfortable and ugly, occasionally spoiling the song. Without a doubt, As The Roots Undo is NOT a classic, hyperbole-inducing release that many build it up to be. Having said that, it's not as awful as I once thought it to be. After witnessing Dallas Green in concert earlier in the year, both by himself and with Alexisonfire, I am more than aware of his amazing talents as both a vocalist and a guitarist.

This is more than present here as he belts out the bulk of his album, Sometimes. As an overall performance, however, far too much time is spent on (very) small talk and tuning of his guitar. Also, the release of the product also feels like a bit of a cash cow. Still, for what's on offer here, it's not half bad. Most will know Ezekiel Ox as the lead singer of now-defunct funk metal kings Mammal.

It's a completely different story here, as Ox turns his attention to the tender singer-songwriter stylings. It's a pleasant enough collection of songs but the fact they're all mid-tempo acoustic numbers results in the album lapsing into several boring sections. Best to keep this one to devotees of Mammal, and Ox in particular.

It simply doesn't have enough personality to appeal much further than that. An interesting one. Top musicianship is especially present in Ballad Of The Beaconsfield Miners, with some hugely impressive guitar work in accompaniment with the gorgeous Kaki King.

One can also count The Pretender and Let It Die as some of the strongest singles the band has ever released. This isn't perfect, but it's still a solid rock record. I ordered a frappucino! Where's my fucking frappucino? You can get angry at this record all you like.

And rightly so- the Avril tomboy antics of 'One of the Boys', the whiny and immature 'Ur So Gay' and the lame man-hating 'Mannequin' are all bland, strained in its attempts to be unique and generally irritating. At times, I'd even give this record less than one star. But, then, it happens: the 'Rock and Roll Part 2' drums kick in, the swinging guitars and stomping bass follows.' I Kissed A Girl' is the synth-pop hit of the year, regardless of what interpretation one makes of the song's lyrics. With singles like this, along with her drop-dead-gorgeous looks and musical ability, One of the Boys certainly shows plenty of potential. Here's hoping. It's a very noisy, very lo-fi record.

You could honestly just leave it there; the main issue to be had with Nouns is its distinct lack of highlights and continuous struggle to evidence truly quality songsmanship. When a good tune emerges out of the distortion, however rare it may be, one begins to get a better comprehension of just why people enjoy this band so much.

Mostly, however, Nouns leaves you in the dark in terms of the band's critical success. It's just noisy lo-fi. So, Zeke Ox pisses off everyone to the point where literally his entire band leaves.

Whatevs, get back on the horse, right? For the next in what has turned out to be a shitload of projects, he's hooked up with the drummer from Dukes of Windsor ('boys, lookin' for love, a young man needs violence' etc). It kinda feels like that band We Are The Fallen with all the ex-Evanescence people making music that sounds exactly like Evanescence. This is Mammal without the catchy choruses, a limited set of ideas and Zeke's same 'me against everything' lyrical mentality. It's not bad by any means, but it's safe and it's too long by any stretch of the imagination.

For fans only. The South African nu-metallers ride again. It was going to be a real task bettering the excellent Karma and Effect- quite evidently one that the band could not do. The solution was certainly not attempting to recreate the record in a half-baked and uninspired way, as the bulk of this record is. Ray Boltz At The Foot Of The Cross Mp3 Download here. They were certainly on the right track with the sensational single 'Fake It' and the thundering jam of 'No Jesus Christ', however.

Better luck next time. Irish quintet The Thrills have brought out their third album quietly and with little promotion. While there are some fantastic tunes on here, and Connor Deasy still knows how to write and sing a good tune, you can't help but feel that something is missing in this album. The band seem out of inspiration at times, and a little tired. Give this album a go, by all means, but for the most part it's fans only. 2.5 average Crying Lightning is one of their finest singles, Dangerous Animals is a display of what could have been and Dance Little Liar is a brief, but nonetheless worthy, flashback to their roots.

Not much else fares so well in this album, which seems to only have a small amount of ideas that are already being spread thin enough. Instead of unlocking the beast within the band, Josh Homme instead appears to have put the dungeon dragon back to sleep. So Ben Kweller has made himself a record all by himself, playing all the instruments.

This is all well and good, but here's the problem- nearly half the tracks here are just.dull. There's no life, no spiteful energy that charged his earlier records- just some cruisy old-time pop music. There are some lovely tunes here- Sundress and Nothing Happening are highlights- and closing track 'This Is War' brings the record a jolt of electricity.

But ultimately, Kweller plays it too safe, and too many niceties have made for his worst album. Better luck next time! There's no denying the impact the Eagles have had on rock music, particularly throughout the seventies with classic records like Desperado and the brilliant Hotel California. There's also no denying that the classic rock radio staples that are their singles collection is also fairly impressive. So why, pray tell, do we need 'all the hits' repackaged for us once again? Other Eagles compilations are far more detailed, and often with a better song selection.

This, however, is a hugely predictable affair, badly tracklisted and ignoring some of the lesser commercial successes (but genuinely better songs). If you're after a real Eagles collection, you cannot go past the 2003 double disc 'The Very Best of The Eagles' anthology. This, however, is best left on the shelf for completists and those who aren't sure where to start with the band (for the record, it's got to be Hotel California). Clapton peaked with Cream.

Yeah, I said it. I'll say it again if I need to. Play 'Layla' and piss off, old man. Where does Throne to the Wolves stand in the great scheme of things in relation to FFTL? It's not as good as their self-titled (read: best) record, but still miles ahead of both Heroine and Dear Diary. There's some exceptionally catchy stuff here, but also plenty of filler ('Chyeaaaah!'

How Tall Is Nascar Driver Tony Stewart. And 'A Soft War' to name a few). Despite their best efforts, it's really not here nor there as a studio release.

Perhaps they've played it a little too safe this time around? Omggg sooo gheyy its lyk pop wut dat shits gheyy lololool metl 4lyf Anyway, Bieber will shit in your fishtank bro I like this more a lot more than I should - and I shouldn't like it at all. Still, put on that second half of the album and I'm sold, particularly when Boiler and Hold On come on. Borland is reasonably talented and one of the more under-rated forces of nu-metal at the time, and this record assists in validating said theory. Of course it's all gone to hell since then, but there was a time when it was slightly cool. Neil was onto some weird shit in the eighties. Following a vocoder-filled electronica album in Trans, he made a half-hour of rockabilly and fifties rock.

A fun idea in theory, but most of the songs here are just plain boring - it's an album that sleeps on ideas, with its kind of music already done and Young himself making no attempts to improve or personalise it. Have a listen to 'Payola Blues' to get an idea of what was going on, but it's probably best to leave this one for collectors and die-hards only. Go and get Harvest, you little shit. You really wanna put your feet on my rug, doncha? Piiiimp juuuuuiiiiice The last substantial Nickelback release.

And before you say that there weren't any, just listen to 'How You Remind Me,' the rough-and-tumble 'Never Again', the gritty 'Where Do I Hide' and the country-influenced closer 'Good Times Gone.' They serve as both album highlights and proof that not all was once lost on Chad Kroeger and co. Easily the closest Nickelback have come to achieving their desired sound on a major label without taking it too far. The infamous Canadians were battling slightly poorer sales after the dismal Silver Side Up sequel, The Long Road. Within a few hit singles from this record, however, the band were right back on track as soulless stadium fillers. Sure, the production is tight as ever, it's a complete improvement from The Long Road and it even features some of the band's best songs ('If Everyone Cared', 'Savin' Me').

Having said that, there's still not nearly enough on this record that makes it worth a start-to-finish listen: 'Animals' is laughably un-subtle, 'Far Away' is thickly layered with cheese and the irony of 'Rockstar' is completely lost when you think that Chad Kroger most probably does all the things he mentions in the song. Keep a few songs for your guilty pleasures iTunes playlist, but the rest is not worth your time. Boy, those are some cool demos, Sufjan!

Though, I think your drum machine is broken - might want to fix that up. Now, any chance of that album we were talking about? An unfortunately huge dissapointment given the top quality record that was Nothing Is Sound. The band sound tired and out of ideas, and only a few songs actually go anywhere.

The track 'Circles' describes more than it means to with its chorus: 'Spinning.in circles.in circles.in circles'. Taking Back Sunday aren't new again. New implies freshness, uniqueness, originality.

Practically everything that New Again is not - despite a catchy hook or two thrown in every now and then, Adam Lazzara and co. Sound tired, almost lethargic - a shadow of their former selves; a rock band capable of pop perfection. For the diehard fans of the band only, this album shall most probably be perceived retrospectively as another nail in the Taking Back Sunday coffin.

Underoath are a great band, any bozo could tell you that. However, watching an hour of them fucking about on tour and then getting less than ten songs of live footage from a MySpace session isn't exactly a quality DVD release. Their later full-scale performance DVD of Survive, Kaleidoscope owns this, so go and get yourself that. 2.0 poor One thing I cannot comprehend is the success of so many pop punk bands that have follow the exact same formula. Such a band is All Time Low. Given, you can sing along happily to the chorus of Six Feet Under The Stars, and the band have a little more heart than, say, Cute is What We Aim For. But catchiness alone cannot save an entire record of the same kind of song; and having more heart than CIWWAF isn't exactly a huge feat.

Perhaps when they've cut their teeth a little more over the course of a bit more touring and recording, we'll see All Time Low reach higher potential. Until then, we're stuck with this dross. You could go on about how soulless and hollow Revelations sounds. You could rant about how bored Morello sounds with sports-montage guitar rock, how tired and forced Cornell sounds in his vocal delivery and the dire attempts at stadium rock (only coming slightly close with 'Original Fire' and the title track). But really, everything about this record, as we would eventually find out, can be summed up with one song title: Nothing Left To Say But Goodbye. Thanks for the memories, Audioslave. Now let's just forget this ever happened.

Congrats, Mr. Lee- you have officially taken out the title of The Biggest Dissapointment of The Year. The songs have become bland, the lyrics uninspired and starkly in contrast to his former records, and not even a couple of good singles (Love Me Like The World Is Ending and Numb) can save this.

It's a step backwards from the already mainstream-leaning Awake Is The New Sleep when it could have been something so great in terms of pop music. I usually hate elitists who only like the 'old school' music- but in this case, I am more than happy to make an exception.

Oh, to think I used to hold you in such high regard. YARRRGHHH DON'T DO IT AGAIN MOMMY Big, serious music for big, serious listeners of inoffensive and unambitious shiny pop-rock. The band capable of writing mesmerising music are only memorable here when they're being irritating - the dying swan noise that opens 'Foreign Land' is a good example of this. Inshalla is an extravagantly uninteresting affair. Hands off the cocks and back onto the songwriting pens, Eskies.

I can Gleek out with the best of them, honest. But I draw the f ucking line at a Christmas album. I've said it before and I'll say it again, anyone who makes a Christmas album is going to hell. Except Bob Dylan.

Anyway, 'Last Christmas' on this with Rachel and Finn rules, but the rest is so f ucking cheesy. Yeah, even for Glee. Don't get this.

Was I supposed to like this? Do I lose cool points if I say it's miserable, monotonous trash with next to no redeeming features?

I should just keep it to myself? Very well, then. Oh wait, I'm writing this right now. No turning back now, I guess.

Let's delete this album from iTunes. Well, most of it, at least. Tracks like 'World War III' and 'Poison Ivy' are not only fucking irritating, they're also home to some of the most sexually-frustrated vocals in pop music today - guess those promise rings were a mistake, 'ey lads? What to keep: the gorgeous piano-pop of 'Fly With Me' (complete with epic keychange), the cutesy fun of 'Paranoid' and the track with Common (because, come on!

It's Common!). Their best release so far, but the Brothers still have a fuck-tonne of work to do. Nobody's saying that kitschy, camp pop can't be fun and likable. When it's done like this, however, in full spirit-finger form, it eventually makes one stabby. Away from the Queen-aping 'Grace Kelly' and the charming 'My Interpretation', you're left with MOR dross ('Relax, Take It Easy') and overly-boppy driving music ('Love Today'). Potential shown, but rarely impacted upon. Approach with caution.

MMMMYEAHHH WE'RE IN A WARRRR AND THEYYYY WON'TTT WINNNN BECAUSEE I'M A WIZZZARDDD AND I'M IN LOOOOOVE AND LOOOOOVE CONQUERS ALLLL SO LET'S FIIIIIIIIIIGHTTTT MMMMYEAHHHH fin. Although Saosin would go onto great success, as would Anthony Green with Circa Survive, the two combined at this early stage of their career is really raw - and not in the good way, like you want. Green's voice is shrill and scratchy, still trying to find its feet. The band themselves, meanwhile, lapse far too much into generic structure for many of the songs to become particularly interesting. A good band with a good singer, but in a way it's kind of like the Audioslave of 2000s post-hardcore.

They really worked better away from one another. There was hype and worship behind THIS? Sure, they're unique in the fact they have two vocalists- but this is quickly discarded when the only time you can tell the two apart is when they speak on the title track.

Without direction (do they want to be pop-punk? Hardcore?), without any real talent at their instruments (typical guitar, inaudible bass, typical 4/4 rawk beats) and without anything relevant to say, Set Your Goals really need to do just that. And this time, achieve them. You could refer to The Jezabels as a poor man's Tori Amos.

Or a poor man's Megan Washington. Maybe even a poor man's Wendy Matthews. The truth of the matter, however, is that a poor man's Jezabels is The Jezabels themselves.

Bland, uninspired and hopefully a part of a passing fad. All style and no substance, The Jezabels make the kind of dull-as-dishwater AOR that resides squarely in the middle of the road. Brooding and self-serious to the point of hilarity, the band inadvertently express everything about the current batch of chart-topping Australian acts that is just plain boring. There's no heart or personality to be found, just some psuedo-atmospheric bullshit for indie kids to sob to and festival bogans to put proudly next to their Coastal Chill and Xavier Rudd records. This mediocrity might seem harmless, but it's slowly eating away at the core of Australian music and needs to be stopped. Where do you go after penning one of the greatest songs in Australian music history all before you've released a debut album?

Seemingly, in the Middle East's case, down a long and painful slope into sepia mediocrity. The magic of 'Blood,' the game-changing life-affirmer that started it all, is long gone on I Want That You Are Always Happy, in its place a dreary monotone that weeps, moans and mumbles for over an hour.

Taking listeners on a meandering, uneventful journey that leaves them none the wiser on whatever the band is rambling on about, the entire affair is one of sore, devastating disappointment. Not long after its release, the band burned out and announced their split. Can you really blame them?

The slash over the O is actually meant to represent you covering your mouth as you yawn while listening to this record. 1.5 very poor Lol.

More like 'DO NOT WANT'. Amirite, fellas? Put on the worst AC/DC album you can think of. Now beat your head against a wall repeatedly in time with the music.

Congratulations, you have just experienced Runnin' Wild. It was going to go to Hell eventually. After she dropped the whole wearing neckties and trashing the mall dealio, she dyed her hair pink and started playing with the uglier side of her pop elements. While her whiny post-Alanis pop-rock style was once upon a time not only tolerable, but enjoyable, this just comes across as torturous - not to mention trying way too hard. Nothing works here, and she's got no-one to blame but herself. Few records give out an immediately negative response. But upon hearing this album, the first words I said?

'Are you fucking serious?' To put it lightly, this band is a joke- everything from the black-clad desperate fashion to the hugely irritating vocals. Even when they try and get quasi-political on 'The Bonesman', it again results in the band embarrassing themselves. A very poor release from five sadly-potential-filled young men with dollar signs in their eyes. Problem: Have made two respectable, catchy, well-produced and very energetic pop-punk records with a rock edge. Solution: Make a third that completely drains all life and energy out of the music that made you popular to begin with. Dear Kenny, Be less shit.

You used to be one of my vocal heroes before you phoned in this particular piece of shit. Your home is in Karnivool, stop wrecking everything with the pedo-looking dude, the pro-wrestler looking dude and the boring drummer dude. Best, Atavan One of the most hollow, derivative, uninspired and generally weak bands that continues to plague Australia's live rock scene, British India look, play and sound like they couldn't give a fuck about anything - and that is most certainly not a compliment. As Declan Melia howls and groans in perfect monotone, the rest of the band thrashes about in what feels like a feeble attempt at rocking out. It's not appetising in the slightest, ultimately summing up what a few cashed-up bogans can do with switched on amplifiers and not doing a great deal for anyone or anything else - least of all themselves. From the opening shots of the plethora of black-clad scenesters, we know we're in for something terrible. As the four members of Bullet for my Valentine take the stage, this is only confirmed even more.

Like a poor man's Trivium, they generically 'rock' the crowd, 'shred' on their guitars and 'thrash' like only a metalcore-by-numbers band can. Matt Tuck howls excitedly throughout, overwhelmed that people actually enjoy this t(h)rash- hell, I'm amazed myself. A landmark, classic album.if Bon Jovi is the closest you come to heavy metal. Cheesy, overproduced rubbish that represents some of the eighties' worst trends.

Even Poison did better than this shit. You can pour some sugar on me all you like, but Hysteria is a turd rolled in glitter. Check out that cute whiteboy over there! Gosh, isn't that vanilla, inoffensive, cheap and bland take on acoustic funk-pop just a joy to listen to?

Let's all gather around! There's Perez Hilton! You just KNOW he's got great taste. Gosh, I'm having such a great time. Sounds Like This? More like Sounds Like Shit. Shit band, shit dudes, shit music.

Bleep bleep RAWR chug chugga duh duhh duhhh. Did anyone honestly think that replacing one of the greatest frontmen of all time in Michael Hutchence was a good idea? And through a fucking Idol styled show of all things.

It's not that JD Fortune can't sing, it's that the songwriting is incredibly lazy and the entire thing sounds and feels like a way for the Farriss brothers to get themselves out of debt. Take a listen to the real INXS and their real classic in Kick, and leave this down the shitter where it belongs. Way back in 2001, Nonpoint released Miracle, an album filled with anger, downtuned riffs and hate-filled lyrics. It did incredibly well for a market that was thriving on nu-metal and.wait.this came out in 2010? How the mighty have fallen. A long, embarrassing downward spiral from smart, politically aware, hook-driven punk-flavoured rock right into dumb, politically apathetic, hollow corporate rock.

It started with The Sufferer and the Witness back in 2006 and it's ended up here, somewhere several kilometres below the bottom of the barrell. The passion and the heart that turned you into an RA fan to begin with is nowhere to be seen here. A damn shame. AHHM A ROLLAH AHHM A RIDAHHH A NUMBAHH ONEE MUTHHA FUKKN SURVIVAAHHHH YEHYEHYEHHHHHHHHHH Enjoy that? Then don't get this album. Cove Reber takes on the vocal duties here (as he did on the self-titled EP) and he does a very good job of bringing his own strengths to the table while occasionally channeling Green to good effect.

Still intact, the remainder of the band adjust fittingly and while the technicality and complexity of their musicianship still very much exists, it is toned down a little. This results in more of a melodic brand of post-hardcore rock that cynics would suggest too similarly sounds like many emo rock bands on the scene. To me though, it is a successful and satisfying balance. 1.0 awful Black ice is ice frozen without many air bubbles trapped inside, making it transparent. Black ice takes the color of the material it lies on top of, often wet asphalt or a darkened pond.

Its difficult-to-detect nature makes it a significant hazard to drivers, pedestrians, and sailors. Anyway, album sucks.

Thankfully the proverbial ship of manic depressive black-haired pigment-challenged teens has long since sailed. For awhile, though, bands like Aiden reigned supreme, making the kind of music that could be used as torture on terrorist suspects. Blood, vampires and destruction all delivered through a horrid, nasal tone.as the title might suggest, this album is truly the stuff nightmares are made of. Long before Hannah Montanna and Metro Station, Billy Ray Cyrus kept his cracker seed inside his stonewashed denim jeans and saddled up his geetar. To make stadium country-pop that rarely got worse than it did on this horrific collection of drawling man's-man horseshit. If you've heard Achy Breaky Heart, you've essentially heard it all, but take it from one of the six million who have had to suffer through this record - AVOID.

This truly is the root of all evil. And you thought 'Shake It' was bad? Yes, she may be my avatar, but everyone who has ever made a Christmas album is going to Hell.

Except Bob Dylan. They can claim they're doing it for God as long as they please. Nothing will change my mind on the fact that I think this is the work of Satan himself. It's absolutely hideous, turgid droning, repetitive in nature and offensive to even listen to casually. This is everything that is wrong with hardcore. Why, oh why, does this band exist? Surely the latest in a long line of clean-cut and positive-thinking pop-punk kids could have simply admired the work of their superiors (The Starting Line, Motion City Soundtrack, Fall Out Boy) from afar without feeling the need to pick up some instruments and veinly attempting to mimick them.

Everything about this band, you've heard and scene (pun intended) elsewhere. Whiny, incessant and repetitive vocals? Lame song titles? Unexciting and uninspired guitar? Practically inaubible basslines that are most probably following the guitar? You get the idea. If you're looking for an inoffensive guitar pop singalong, then you're on the ball.

For the rest of us, it's just the first two words of the album title, over and over and over. Truly atrocious. What we have here is a collection of songs by guys who didn't learn to play instruments for their love of music - they did it because they wanted cash, a big fuckoff tourbus, GHD straighteners and blowjobs from underage girls that comment their MySpace profile every single day. Escape The Fate is a product of its environment in the sense that they are completely artificial, transparent in their intentions and vapidly hollow in their songwriting. For all that is good and sacred, do not listen to this music if you are over the age of sixteen and you don't think Gerard Way is your saviour who truly cares about you as a person.

Fuck this band. One of them is in jail, surely we can get the others in for crimes against both music and humanity.

About as lame, painful and unfunny as that 'Emo' song by Adam and Andrew all those years ago. Except it's not trying to be a parody.