Even after selling nearly three million copies of her debut album worldwide, Lana Del Rey still faced a challenge during 2012: namely, proving to critics and prospective fans that Born to Die wasn't a fluke. In that spirit, Del Ray released Paradise, a mini-album close to Christmas, that finds her in perfect control of her voice, much more assured than she was even one year ago, and frequently capable of astonishing her listeners with a very convincing act. As for the sound, it should be familiar to fans of Born to Die, with strings that move at a glacial pace, drums that crash like waves in slow motion, and additional textures (usually electric guitar or piano) that are cinematic in their sound and references. There's really only one difference between Born to Die and Paradise, but it's a big one. Instead of acting the submitting, softcore, '60s-era plaything, here she's more of a wasted, hardcore, post-millennial plaything. She even goes so far as to tell her audience that she likes it rough (in words that earn the parental advisory sticker), to ask whether she can put on a show, and at her most explicit, proffering a simile that compares the taste of an intimate part of her anatomy to Pepsi. The inclusion of a cover, "Blue Velvet," is not only a perfect match for her style, but also a hint that she can perform up to better material. Still, all of this is merely the material for her continuing popularity and attraction. She puts it better here than anyone else, with another simile: "Like a groupie incognito posing as a real singer, life imitates art."

John Bush, Rovi

Lana Del Rey's debut Born To Die was confounding indie critics long before its release, simply by being unapologetically pop. Lead single "Video Games" set up an intriguing, troublesome character—a passive, objectified girlfriend with outsized romantic daydreams and facile notions of "old Hollywood" glamour and noir—but Del Rey's drawling delivery sold it. That song's persona, its sedative languor and sweeping strings inform much of Born to Die's ballads, but so do moody hip-hop beats and distorted background shouts that recall, among other things, Kanye West's "Runaway." Better still are the more sprightly and playfully knowing pop moments of "Off to the Races, "Diet Mountain Dew," "Radio" and "National Anthem," where Del Rey almost breaks into a rap cadence. Of course Lana Del Rey is a put-on, but it's not an unpromising act.

Eric Grandy, Google Play

Lana Dey Rey's breakout hit uses simple storytelling to create an instant classic pop symphony. Backed by harps and strings, Del Rey sets a vivid scene as she sings in a sultry, teary-eyed tone about everyday moments—like swinging in the backyard wearing the sundress her boyfriend loves as he opens a beer and plays video games. The chorus is both haunting—"Heaven is a place on earth where you tell me all the things you want to do"—and taunting: "I heard you like the bad girls, honey, is that true?" Throughout, Del Rey's retro glamour and spellbinding vocals push her ahead of the pack.

Laura Checkoway, Google Play

Bruno Mars has said that Unorthodox Jukebox represents his freedom, and it lives up to its title as Mars moves through genres and eras, veering mostly into retro soul. The follow-up to his Grammy-winning 2010 debut Doo-Wops & Hooligans opens with the '80s pop-influenced "Young Girls" and lead single "Locked Out of Heaven." "I got a body full of liquor with a cocaine kicker and I'm feeling like I'm 30 feet tall," Mars indulges on "Gorilla," an animalistic sex jam. "Natalie" and "Money Make Her Smile," about a gold-digger and stripper respectively, follow in that gritty tone, while the retro-disco "Treasure" paired with "Moonshine" play out like a cinematic love story.

Laura Checkoway, Google Play

The Red Hot Chili Peppers' Greatest Hits is a compelling listen, culling tracks from the band's 1989 breakthrough, Mother's Milk, to its melodic 2002 release, By the Way. In some ways, one could view this as the best of the John Frusciante years, charting most of the band's work with the talented guitarist after the death of original member Hillel Slovak. The tracks here are all hits, including such stellar singles as "Give It Away," "Under the Bridge," and Frusciante's first single after his phoenix-like resurrection from heroin addiction, "Scar Tissue." It should be noted, though, that as a Warner-issued hits collection such fan favorites as "Taste the Pain" and the touchstone antidrug anthem "Knock Me Down" -- both from the 1989 EMI release Mother's Milk -- aren't included. (Similarly, nothing from the Chili Peppers' rambunctious early efforts -- including 1984's Red Hot Chili Peppers, 1985's Freaky Styley, and 1987's The Uplift Mofo Party Plan -- appears on this hits collection.) Nonetheless, Greatest Hits still portrays the band as one of the most consistently brilliant groups of its generation. Helping to paint this picture are such solid cuts as the group's searing, albeit overplayed, 1989 cover of Stevie Wonder's "Higher Ground" as well as its rarely available addition to the Coneheads movie soundtrack, "Soul to Squeeze." Not surprisingly, "My Friends" is the sole cut to make it from the band's disappointing one-off effort with Jane's Addiction guitarist Dave Navarro, One Hot Minute. Throw in two new tracks ("Fortune Faded" and "Save the Population") that easily match the quality of the material collected here, and you've got one of the most consistently listenable Chili Pepper releases since Blood Sugar Sex Magik. For fans who gave up after Frusciante left the band, Greatest Hits is the perfect reintroduction.

Matt Collar, Rovi