The album as a whole is scattershot; it's easy to appreciate the boundaries that Zion I are pushing, but the best authors have great editors. [Feb 2009, p.107]

The Empyrean ultimately proves that if things don't work out with his main gig, Frusciante as a healthy, slap bass-free career ahead. [Apr 2009, p.140]

Mostly it works. [Mar 2009, p.113]

Dance fans--past and present--will be pleased. [Mar 2009, p.116]

This disc is heads-and-shoulders above his contemporaries. [Mar 2009, p.116]

It avoids the sophomore slump by mixing a little meloody in with the morose--sort of like a down-tuned Pinback for stoners. [Apr 2009, p.108]

What emerges by the halfway point of the title track is the sense that you're not listening to just another piano troubadour; you're hearing the oceanic confessions of an artist who in time will be considered one of the most affecting composers of this still young century. [Apr 2009, p.134]

It's surprisingly how generally lukewarm the music is on Newman's sophomore effort, Get Guilty. [Feb 2009, p.103]

It's less mopey than Bright Eyes, less pompous than Sufjan Stevens and better than almost everything else. [Feb 2009, p.103]

The cutest couple this side of Jack and Meg do exactly that [get serious] on the shockingly accomplished Grand. [Feb 2009, p.100]

Mercer manages to sing behind the beat, beside it, in front of it, all while tossing out upper-division stanzas that are mostly cryptic, sometimes creepy, and occasionally sublime. [Apr 2009, p.134]

LOTP cram tons of stylistic inversions into 43 minutes. We had no idea attention deficit disorder could sound this majestic. [Feb 2009, p.102]

Nicolay serves it up hot, no matter what musical milieu is on the menu. [Feb 2009, p.106]

Even if this Boat doesn't always stay afloat, Cook's eager-to-please melodic sensibilities can still get jaws a-smilin'. [Mar 2009, p.116]

While Folie A Deux at times feels like the band are showing off the contents of their Rolodex, the album's standouts are so good that they will undoubtedly become standards for the band's live shows for years to come.

While World is simply a fun pop record at its core, the effort, time and most importantly, experience (gleaned both from the members' extracurricular projects and the near-decade they've been together) that went into its making clearly sets AAR apart from newer bands who keep attempting to capture this same sound with much less ambition.

The songs explode with more energy than the whole underground combined. This makes it very hard not to love Los Campesinos!, and makes it easier to forgive the fact this record could have been better served as an EP. [Nov 2008, p.162]

Flowers suffers from lyrical impairment and bloated self-importance throughout the rest of the album. [Jan 2008, p.121]

The Cross of My Calking is far more spirited [than their last album], creating a univese somewhere between Primal Scream's Rolling Stones phase and the Mars Volta's brand of jam science, with an occasional Bo Diddley beat thrown in. [Jan 2008, p.129]

Though some of the songs are more sultry than dark, this overall effect of Lanegan up front and Campbell in the middle distance--angelic, etheral, almost intangible--is the magic that makes their collaboration so memorable. [Jan 2008, p.124]

Earnest and joyful throughout, they don't make records like this anymore, so be glad Anathallo didn't listen and made one anyway.

The Singles is over too quickly. [Nov 2008, p.164]

Sycamore has plenty of upbeat rockers to counterbalance its moodier moments. [Jan 2008, p.128]

The Bronx III shouldn't be perceived as a misstep, because this band's growing pains have more character than the parade of desperate losers saddled with pay-to-play blues lined up in front of L.A.'s Roxy Theatre. [Dec 2008, p.129]

The album nods to "Things'" lush, layered pop, while adding hefty shoegaze crunch, kicky new-wave synths and diffracted drone.[Dec 2008, p.148]

The band flex all their muscles from a decade-plus of experience without hesitation and, more importantly, without overdoing it. [Jan 2008, p.129]

Where the Tokyo-based quintet's heavier side might normally overshadow Thursday's more sensitively nuanced post-screamo, the transitions here are seemless. [Dec 2008, p.130]

Throw in lowered expectations and a few fine fellows, and Surfing becomes genuinely fun and ebullient effort, a toss-off that neither toss nor off. [Feb 2009, p.103]