The utterly flavorless repertoire she sings here... steers her toward Lite FM. [Jan/Feb 2005, p.106]

[His] loquacious, dizzying delivery and disjointed imagery paired with the abstract soundscapes of [El-P and Blockhead] make for occasionally uneasy listening. [Nov 2003, p.108]

A debut on par with the music of Massive Attack, Underworld or Kruder & Dorfmeister.

While none of these spare summer jams of knotty beats match his Marvin Gaye-sampling 2001 hit "Music," almost any would freshen radio. [Aug 2004, p.139]

Overly somber. [Aug 2004, p.131]

Stone’s voice is remarkably authentic, and the atmosphere she conjures is smoky and sleazy, pure mid-’60s Detroit.

Amid the fidgety guitars and twitchy rhythms are enough hair-raising hooks to reach far beyond the counters of independent record stores. [Sep 2003, p.128]

One long, shameless come-on. [Jun 2007, p.107]

A band of arty studio veterans give him a new set of choppers, and he knows what to do with them. [Jun 2005, p.116]

Eagles of Death Metal aren't air-quote ironic like the Darkness; they're a passionately played goof for Homme. [May 2004, p.120]

About as insular and pensive a rap record as anyone's ever made. [May 2005, p.120]

Shimmers with a newfound sophistication. [Apr 2004, p.136]

Clones feels at points like a candy store that carries only one brand--it's a damn good one, though. [#18, p.130]

Way too much fun. [Oct 2006, p.130]

[A] dense, inventive disc. [Oct 2005, p.134]

Petty, never good at deep thinking, tries to introduce some grand gestures and literary flourishes, but they're forced compared with his amiably corny odes to driving and boozing. [Sep 2006, p.147]

This is virile, excited music. [Jun 2006, p.146]

Textured mood music. [Apr 2005, p.119]

His rage is mostly disguised within the most anthemic music he's made since the '80s. [Nov 2007, p.143]

A gorgeous, streamlined piece of acoustic Americana, beautiful and fully realized. [May 2003, p.120]

The soundtrack is faultlessly authentic, though you might wish it weren't so damned reverent. [Mar 2004, p.130]

None of it is groundbreaking. [Oct 2003, p.120]

Dawson tunefully balances girlish zeal with womanly maturity. [Nov 2004, p.132]

He specializes in layered harmonies, not deep lyrics. [Aug 2006, p.117]

There isn't a bad song or performance on it. Unfortunately, there isn't a new song or performance on it either. [Jun 2005, p.117]

ven the weaker material is nothing worse than pleasant, but it outweighs and obscures the better-than-pleasant; the middle of the album dissolves into an anonymously sweet haze.

Rhett Miller’s lovelorn lyrics remain respectably literary, while his pretty singing and his pals’ pretty playing turn increasingly wan and half-cooked.

DiFranco seems less the compulsive confessor here, more the storyteller. [Mar 2005, p.139]