No Doubt

“The Singles 1992—2003” (Interscope)

Compare to: Garbage, Sublime, Mighty Mighty Bosstones

For 17 years, No Doubt has repeatedly delivered noteworthy music to fans across the globe. Now, after countless hits, performances and awards, the Anaheim, Calif. quartet has taken a step back to reflect upon its journey to stardom.

With 15 chart-topping tracks, “The Singles 1992-2003” follows No Doubt’s path from its self-titled debut to its latest album, “Rock Steady.”

Full of the band’s hits and crowd pleasers, the disc ranges from the new-wave feminist anthem, “Just a Girl,” to the reggae beat of club favorite “Hey Baby.”

Hardcore fans will find the album an ideal blend of hits and an honest representation of the band’s musical career, while casual fans will be delighted to discover the highlighted songs are just enough to satisfy their curiosity of No Doubt.

“Spiderwebs” captures the electro punch of third-wave ska, while “Trapped in a Box” carries a jazzy pop sound spiked with lively brass spurts.

The exploding drum rolls and driving vocals on the hard rock “Sunday Morning” are equally as fun and energetic as the funky hip-hop electric bounce of “Hella Good.”

Many of No Doubt’s successful tracks have been delivered to the listener via lead singer Gwen Stefani’s personal issues, especially those of love. The singer’s breakup with bassist Tony Kanal spurred the painfully aching ballad “Don’t Speak,” a huge hit in 1997.

And as always, No Doubt wouldn’t put out an album without including a surprising new twist. With “The Singles” comes a very suiting cover of “It’s My Life,” originally performed by ’80s group Talk Talk.

“The Singles 1992-2003” outlines No Doubt’s growth as songwriters, performers and innovators of the always fresh, always changing sound that has been brought to us time and time again.

— Katie Piepel

Juvenile

“Juve the Great” (Cash Money)

Compare to: Big Tymers, Lil’ Wayne, Mystikal

The music and pictures on Juvenile’s sixth album seem like an attempt to reinvent his sound and possibly a dwindling cash reserve.

The quality of Juvenile’s music has been sliding downhill since the rapper’s breakthrough album, “400 Degreez” and its bland follow up, “The G-Code.” “400 Degreez” brought us “Back That Ass Up,” which is arguably the dirtiest and sleaziest song ever to come out of Cash Money Records. “The G-Code,” Juvenile’s weaker, but not totally floundering, 1999 follow-up had two decent tracks in “U Understand” and “I Got That Fire.” Both of these became mild hits; however, neither track came within the same area code as “Back That Ass Up” in its impact on listeners.

In his younger days, Juvenile’s music seemed laced with dirty south attitude and equally clever lyrics. On his new album, however, he has decided to pay a little tribute to himself by writing songs in which he boasts about his image and past success.

Juvenile has become more serious in his approach. His lyrical issues have changed from chick-wooing and weed-endorsing to bragging about how much money he throws around.

“Bounce Back,” the album’s most down-to-earth and intimate track, shares the story of his youth. The new release has lost the stereotypical Cash Money sound Juvenile shared with relatively well-known labelmates Mannie Fresh, the Big Tymers, and Lil’ Wayne.

This song is almost contradicted by the track before it, “Down South Posted.” The lyrical slaughterfest gives a vibe saying he’s still the same old Juvenile, up until the self-righteous boasting resumes.

Juvenile is not the same, and neither is his music. His new stuff has too much boasting and too little of the “dirty rap” flavor of his hood-rattling songs of old.

— Dan Hopper

Sheryl Crow

“The Very Best of Sheryl Crow” (A&M)

Compare to: Paula Cole, Jewel, Shania Twain

Sunny winter days, road trips, cleaning out last semester’s junk from the apartment. These are all good times to put in a Sheryl Crow album, and her latest is excellent.

Crow’s songs have a catchy rock beat reminiscent of ’70s classic rock and roll. Her instrumentation is uncluttered, allowing a clear accompaniment for her voice, which has come to be unmistakable.

“The Very Best of Sheryl Crow” is a well-structured album, balancing upbeat songs such as “All I Wanna Do” and “Soak up the Sun” with more mellow folk ballads like “Strong Enough.”

New material includes a cover of Cat Stevens’ “The First Cut is the Deepest.” Crow brings a new sense of contemplation to the song — slowing the rhythm and restructuring some of the harmonies.

The differences in the country version are subtle but effective. The most obvious difference, besides the percussion, is the use of steel guitar.

The inclusion of the country track highlights Crow’s ability to diversify herself — a rock artist who has gained recognition in country music.

The other new song is an original, titled “Light in Your Eyes.” It is an introspective rock song about appreciating the people who bring you joy.

The difficulty with “Best of” albums is that fans probably already own all the songs on the original albums. However, for those loyal fans out there, the “Best of” CD is a good investment of quality songs.

— Sarah Kloewer

The Kite-Eating Tree

“Method: Fail, Repeat …”

(Cowboy Versus Sailor/Suburban Home)

Compare to: Year of the Rabbit, No Motiv

Good grief. Does the world really need another faceless guitar band? Is it necessary to have one more Foo Fighters copycat? Should the only distinguishable characteristic of rock music be the quaint, obscure pop culture references in the band names?

Probably not. But that hasn’t stopped The Kite-Eating Tree from producing another set of lifeless songs as indistinguishable as the teacher from the band’s namesake comic strip.

From the beginning, this album does very little to set itself apart from the crowd. From careening guitars to muddy drumming, “Softer Seems the Pavement,” the album’s opening song, is far too similar to standard rock for its own good.

Singer Mike Hunter doesn’t help. His slightly grained, wavering voice is a perfect match for every song, but unfortunately, the songs still aren’t worth a second screening.

However, “Method: Fail, Repeat …” comes close to escaping its faults through lyrics. With lines like “All your friends are stains/ On sheets that you’ll throw away/ When you skip to the last page and destroy the ending,” it’s hard to believe the group could come up with such lifeless music for such well-worded prose.

The lyrics may be witty and the instrumentation may be just dirty enough to keep some credibility among the fringe crowd, but The Kite-Eating Tree’s first effort still isn’t worth, well, peanuts.

— Aaron Ladage