Their most songful release since the major-label hellos Goo and Dirty, and by most standards their best since 1988's pivotal Daydream Nation. [#27, p.144]

What's most impressive is that music of this caliber got left off their albums. [#13, p.100]

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

Sturdy (and bland) anthems built on overused U2 chords and several barnstorming R&B vamps notable for thowback horn riffs and Aretha Franklin-style backing vocals. [Sep 2004, p.138]

Even if nobody's made a record that sounds much like this before, she's given her performance here too many times already. [Jun 2007, p.106]

What raises them above the hordes of young revivalists is their way with a cranky bon mot. [Jul 2005, p.121]

The fine distinction between cool and blase, aloof and distant, seems to have eluded them. [Nov 2003, p.106]

It's brave, and it's needed. [Jul 2006, p.95]

Loose Fur is fun, even if it is exactly the sum of its parts. [#14, p.139]

Their sense of perfection is also their downfall. [#11, p.124]

Suffer through some over-eager violin and flute solos early on, and by the time Morrison hits the guttural blues moans of the bonus track 'Listen to the Lion,' the songs have opened up like a source of eternal life.

The Furnaces play with a whimsical charm, so the band seems more like an arts-and-crafts project than an occupation. [Nov 2003, p.113]

This dense noise assault may not sustain the feeling of ecstasy from beginning to end, but its percolating trance rhythms... and captivating space experiments... connect on a visceral level that's rare in the cerebral world of electronic music. [Jun 2005, p.109]

It's not always successful. But the sheer audacity of taking computers to Camelot works splendidly in the pastoral beauty of "Y.T.T.E." [Oct 2003, p.124]

They've adopted a crisp, unfussy style that assures the audibility of Darnielle's artful words. [Mar 2004, p.124]

While her wailing contemporaries go off the rails with exaggeration, Braxton merely tightens her groove and rides these mellow, meaty melodies. [#13, p.91]

Equal parts wit, heartbreak, cool... and potential commercial suicide. [Jun/Jul 2002, p.112]

This mix of gospel classics and classic-rock clunkers turns out to be a surprise keeper. [May 2005, p.116]

The sugar is matched by splashes of vinegar thanks to untuned guitars and off-pitch vocals that toy with self-sabotage. [Jun 2006, p.137]

What elevates this power trio above any number of punk revivalists... are precision and craft. [Apr 2007, p.115]

The album’s dense, electronically seasoned pop includes her catchiest tune in two decades.

He's a master of sweaty hyperventilation, but it's his less frenzied moments--the techno equivalent of circular breathing--that keep the party from collapse. [Apr 2009, p.59]

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

While their new album never thrashes, it at least keeps its pretty bare feet on Mother Earth.

Rather than homogenizing his sources, Parton rubs them against each other. [Oct 2007, p.108]

They sound comfortable in their own skin--and able to get under yours. [May 2003, p.127]

His second proper album tempers the jollity with some beef, or at least a couple of traditional rock-guitar solos, and the result is an uncharacteristic stiffness. [#11, p.125]

Chain Gang of Love promises racy thrills--and delivers them. [Sep 2003, p.128]