If this is soul, it's soul for 21st-century sociopaths. [Apr 2008, p.77]

The Drift is like a nightmare you look forward to repeating. [Jun 2006, p.148]

Of the nearly 59 minutes of music here, about 40 induce deep pleasure. [#16, p.125]

They're not the first--or even the fifteenth--recent band to draw on that era [of the 1980s], but they're among the most assured. [#27, p.138]

This LP, which matches "Transatlanticism" as Death Cab's best. [June 2008, p.71]

They've made a great record of choogling and--surprisingly for the wonky Malkmus--tender tunes. [Apr 2003, p.125]

Hebden treats software as a rocky road to hummable compositions of seductively intricate invention. [#17, p.135]

The songs on Fever to Tell swerve like they're being followed by the police, constantly changing and transforming. [May 2003, p.124]

The most tightly hook-larded, colorfully produced, listenable Decemberists record to date. [Nov 2006, p.138]

Santogold bursts with the arrogance of a world-beating hip-hop debut while thriving on vulnerability.

The Ritalin generation may have found its Bob Dylan. [#9, p.143]

Where melodies once surged with hand-clapping giddiness, they're now august and restrained, balladic, not bubbly--fitting songs strung between hope, resignation and regret.

"Get Ur Freak On," the frenetic lead single, relies on boilerplate hip-hop braggadocio, but the beats are something else: head-snapping electro-funk spiced with tablas that herald Missy and [Timbaland's] return as the rulers of the hip-hop avant-garde. [Jun/Jul 2001, p.106]

Quality is full of witticisms, but it draws equal strength from sonic diversity. [#12, p.145]

Sheik's sparklingly clear voice and subtly tricky guitar shifts transcend the pop-rock melodies. [#10, p.126]

The most original spin on indie-pop in years. [Dec 2003, p.140]

Superproducer Butch Vig is around to help transform Gabel’s strident leftism and occasionally clumsy choruses (e.g., "Protest Songs! In response to military aggression!") into swing-state-ready stadium rock.

Some of Dizzee's insecurity is replaced by newfound swagger. But swagger works, too. [Oct 2004, p.112]

The barn-burners are still grimy with brawling guitar, but more than ever shot through with delicate light... and the pithy ballads are crisp as cold beer. [May 2006, p.108]

Far from the usual collision of greatest hits and "Hello, Cleveland"-type bluster. [#4, p.122]

There are few high or low moments--which might put some listeners off--but texture and content, rather than pulse-raising histrionics, have always been Q-Tip specialties.

After decades, Waits's theater of musical cruelty is familiar stuff. But the old dog's tricks still have bite. [Applies to both Alice and Blood Money, Jun/Jul 2002, p.111]

More tuneful and less experimental than their debut. [Aug 2005, p.113]

Despite the endurance test inherent in any double-disc, his Olympian performances are worth the weight of his pretensions. [#12, p.156]

Pleasant at a distance, the stealthy Son is downright mindblowing at close range. [Jun 2006, p.142]

His voice comes as sharp as a rusty switchblade. [#8, p.125]

Diamonds is pointed, pulled-back and juicily considered instead of massively jammed-out. [#15, p.120]

It does what it's supposed to, giving Usher a grown-up R&B sound without reducing his boyish charm. [Aug/Sep 2001, p.131]