Too bad about the self-important, chanted lyrics, which rattle on even when the band's trying to stretch out and groove. [Apr 2007, p.110]

This follow-up just isn't as lovable. [Jul 2007, p.110]

It's like School House Rock for hip kids. [Aug 2006, p.117]

If the students sound like masters, then Yoko’s generous legacy is secure.

It’s a very rare, wondrous thing: prog-rock for firesides and fuzzy-slipper Sundays.

Ladytron's doom-laden arrangements feel as accomplished as Radiohead jamming with the Pet Shop Boys. [#10, p.120]

Just as electrifying as before. [May 2003, p.125]

It's an attractive kind of stoner-folk, whose dimensions she controls on a minute level, with enough gradually shifting detail to get lost in. [#27, p.139]

They still emphasize meditative atmosphere and near-whispered melody. [#10, p.120]

A handful of tracks--the shuffling 'Fill Me In,' the swinging 'What It Is'--work an assured swagger, but Wood never quite nails his role model’s tomcat growl or sly nonchalance.

Chao’s jovial, chatty, Spanish-English-French crooning helps the ADD sensibility flow into something that feels like a happy incantation rather than a protester’s harangue against George Bush.

Many bands sound like this, but few do it so well, or with such dorky haircuts. [June 2008, p.77]

THe music is scarily gripping... his best computer blues since 1994's The Downward Spiral. [May 2007, p.108]

What makes this album slightly dry is its gorgeous conservatism. [Apr 2005, p.118]

A DJ is only as good as his taste, and Girl Talk is immaculate. [Sept 2008, p.78]

But vintage doesn’t mean nostalgic. 'Dirty Old Man' is the pissed, hilarious antithesis of his wide-eyed ’70s signature 'Old Man,' and it rivals Nick Cave’s 'No Pussy Blues' (see Grinderman) as the year’s best song about a deranged, horny graybeard.

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

Unashamed candor often spells dreary self-indulgence. In Germano's insightful hands, it's fascinating and strangely exhilarating. [May 2003, p.119]

Not since his debut has the Doggfather been any higher. [#12, p.155]

A further step forward. [Jun/Jul 2002, p.102]

Romantica is Luna's most energetic record ever. Which isn't saying much. [Apr/May 2002, p.115]

Ever since he figured out how to write tough-buzzard songs, on his 1997 comeback Time Out of Mind, he’s been knocking them out of the park. This one leans hard on ready-made blues in the citified-country-ways style of Chess Records.

This time, he's playing with a minimalist, barely electric trio that wouldn't dare overshadow his sleepy-voiced utterances, painstakingly plucking one note at a time, and writing songs mostly about horses or mortality or both. [Jun 2005, p.115]

Odd touches, from the choir that materializes halfway through 'I Got Mine' to the sonar ping keeping time in 'Oceans & Streams,' add texture yo these impressionistic tales of ramblin' and being done wrong, without ever sacrificing the Keys' raw power. [Apr 2008, p.76]

The Secret Migration comes dangerously close to being just another Mercury Rev album, and they're too inspired for such a mundane fate. [Jun 2005, p.112]

Unlike the rousing punk-, Kinks- and new-wave-colored mosaic of Parklife, this one sticks to sepia-toned, dub-nodding abstractions. [Jan/Feb 2007, p.86]

Song after song in praise of ass, thongs and female compliance. [Aug 2005, p.116]

Faithfull could use more stories to work with: she's a better singer of narratives than exotic phrases. [Mar 2005, p.140]