Cardinology lays even deeper into the language of rehabilitation, grace and renewal.

Feuled by a ninth-grader's nausea they refuse to grow out of, they take their skateboards and chase down the horizon. [Mar 2009, p.64]

What keeps the songs interesting isn't his understated singing but his delectable arrangements. [Sep 2005, p.138]

Ward still sounds most himself when he gets lost in his own world.

Malin convincingly wraps his tortured warble around the dust-caked tunes. [#14, p.139]

This is mostly music to zone in and out of--periodically, new sounds and rhythms croip up and coexist in rough approximation of grooves, catching the ear; other times songs drone in the background, either beatifically ot forgettable. [Nov 2007, p.146]

Making good on the promise of two nervously explosive EPs, Tokyo Police Club indulge in plenty of echoey atmospherics but also add Foo Fighters-esque blasts of guitar, as if leaping into action and kicking over their chairs. [May 2008, p.79]

The fourth disc from her Toronto foursome Metric adds brawn, finesse and grandeur to their new-wave drive and Morse-code guitar scrapes.

Regret comes in many shades, but Westerberg never makes it boring or mopey. [Nov 2003, p.123]

Lucid, enjoyable and occasionally full-on rockin'. [Oct 2003, p.115]

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

The Renaissance hints at newness, but its cushy boom-bap grooves, airy soulfulness and rhymes about struggle and redemption recall rap’s Edenic “golden age.”

The result approaches sublimity, but remains geared toward dance floors. [#13, p.96]

The best songs here brace his vulnerability with expansive flourishes. [Apr 2004, p.134]

A spirited, gutsy evolution from the formalist new wave of Metric's first album. [Nov 2005, p.138]

A fierce, arty mix of melody and brute clatter. [Jun 2006, p.141]

Wheat adopt a new, far breezier musical style for their first release since 1999. [#23, p.112]

The bullying production threatens to obliterate what’s good here: A half-dozen gentle seeker’s songs with meditative acoustic textures and lyrics advocating reasonableness among humankind, which was always Cat Stevens’s domain.

Because of his no-frills persona, the smallest suggestions of personality make a charismatic impact. [Jan/Feb 2007, p.89]

The loudest record [Hersh] has ever made, and even if few individual compositions leap out of the general roar, it sounds fantastic. [Apr 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]

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

Conley could use a few more breakups to check his sentimentality. [Oct 2003, p.126]

Practically every song sounds as though we've heard it before--because, well, we have. [Sep 2003, p.122]

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]

Listening to these tales of failing relationships feels like eavesdropping, but it's irresistible. [Sep 2004, p.136]

They sound like just another rock band. The thing is, they're a fine rock band. [May 2005, p.119]

Torrini captures a few joyful infatuations followed by a lot of lingering wounds; she’s vulnerable but never conquered.