Steely Dan was the quintessential L.A. band, but Fagen himself has always been a New Yorker at heart.

Absent the meandering grooves that were usually his trademark, it sounds like the Kanye West discography thrown into a blender—hundreds of chewy and gooey morsels of soul vocals, to be gobbled in rapid succession.

Three critics from different musical perspectives offer competing takes on recent noteworthy albums.

British rock may be stuck in the past, but it can still sound great, provided the singer isn’t a complete coke fiend.

Three albums in 2005, six in the four years prior, countless curios in between—Ryan Adams, self-styled bard of the East Village, releases material at a maniacal pace.

Who says sad music has to bring you down? How Cat Power makes it through the storm.

James Levine to opera’s gossip mill: Things have never been better.

Kanye West called out George Bush, Mariah and Madonna came back from the dead, and every sixties band put out an album. But the micro-trends made music interesting this year: The Internet finally broke bands, Houston emerged as rap’s hottest city, folk flew its freak flag, and Britain gave us grime and cyber-girl pop.

Thirty years after Horses, the thin white duchess of CBGB talks about Callas, Oz, and not becoming Kiss.

"New York scares the hell out of me. I parked my truck 30 miles outside the city and took a train in. If it wasn’t for these guys, I wouldn’t come here."