Wildflower is assiduously intimate: lushly orchestrated, strictly mid-tempo and abundant with musings about balancing freedom and love. [Oct 2005, p.136]

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

She's chosen a bunch of fiery roles that even she can't dull up. [Jul 2007, p.114]

Their fourth album toughens things up immeasurably. [Oct 2007, p.114]

Even as they take on the album title's potentially heavy theme, two vocalists sing with wide-open smiles, and they toss in new-wave beats alongside the saloon pianos and tube-amp guitars. [Aug 2008, p.84]

It partly works. [Mar 2006, p.110]

There's a lot of passion and red corpuscles surging just outside the music's clean, primary-colored lines. [Apr 2006, p.112]

A set of piano-based chamber rock so tense and acidic they need to let off steam every two or three songs. [Apr 2005, p.124]

[An] assured and surprising record. [Mar 2006, p.110]

The result is severely mellow, but too sensuous--the basslines thick with libidinal tug, the vocals steeped in contented, coital afterglow--to ever get boring.

With its stories of faithless lovers, broken relationships and speed-dealing suburban doctors, @#%&*! Smilers almost seems to feed off the stagnation. [Aug 2008, p.88]

It occasionally feels slack, especially compared to old faves like “Wildcat” or their bootleg hip-hop remixes.

The bleakness is stirring as often as it is enervating. [#23, p.100]

The mean-spirited sounds of Good Mourning are easy to listen to, but hard to forget. [#17, p.132]

It plods before revealing its considerable sonic luxuries and melodic charms. [May 2006, p.105]

Pete Doherty remains the British tabloids' pinata of choice--but at least his music is looking up.

OH (Ohio) ends with a straight-faced rendition of the hokey country standard 'I Believe in You,' with lyrical mush about dogs and babies, but Wagner sings it like he wants to believe every word.

These tunes sound like they're built out of yard-sale detritus, salvaged and held together with masking tape, chewing gum, anger and sentimentality. [Nov 2003, p.112]

Full of life and energy. [Sep 2004, p.138]

A torrid album that marries old-school rap aesthetics to punk-rock concision. [May 2004, p.127]

Gracefully balances dirty-South revelry with gorgeous graveyard reveries. [Oct 2005, p.141]

Proves they can do just fine without the foggy-hollow reverb they've always used to make their meandering sound mysterious. [Oct 2006, p.139]

It's a shockingly entertaining record riddled with moody hooks. [Sep 2007, p.128]

Sultry suits her fine, but when she reaches for the sadness in these self-written songs, she can’t summon the sense of conflict that was embedded in ’50s pop.

He orchestrates IDM glitch, acoustic guitars, strings, hip-hop beats, witty rhymes and emo candor with casual, genre-blending assurance. [#17, p.133]

A fizzling delight, jettisoning previous jazzy inclinations in favor of a gorgeous electronic pitter-patter that sets off Prekop's velvety, mourning vocals. [#14, p.143]

Everything here, from the restrained pedal steel and drifty organ to the lyrics, reflects a gentle informality that has nothing to do with laziness and everything to do with following the flow.

The more you listen, the less soothing his songs become; this is drifty music about living a rootless life where satisfaction is elusive.