What was once joyful, now sounds careworn and overly precious.

Playing Coke to Knopfler's bourbon on some decent songs, [Harris] challenges his guitar to a beauty contest; it's a draw. [Jun 2006, p.140]

"Beer for My Horses," a rangy duet with Willie Nelson, and easy grooves like "Ain't It Just Like You" don't chase away the overbearing taste of "Red, White and Blue," the album's centerpiece first single. [#9, p.150]

Her reach is remarkable. [Aug 2003, p.120]

Generally, they’re smart and musical enough to turn rhetorical gestures into convincing rock & roll. But when they subtitle the whole schmear “A Love Vision!” you wonder who they’re trying to kid.

Longwave sound more British than Strokes-ish, with a mild talent for writing melodies that demand your attention. [Apr 2003, p.125]

Beautiful but strangely unhinged. [Jul 2006, p.100]

Most of the tracks don't quite rise above their obvious influences, Radiohead and U2. [#10, p.118]

He lacks [Daft Punk and Justice's] wit or personality, and the album turns into a sucession of flashy vocal cameos and samples. [Apr 2008, p.81]

Producer Guy Sigsworth (Seal, Björk, Madonna) adds a touch of Eurodisco to her infatuation-junkie rambles.

Overflows with heart and hooks. [May 2005, p.116]

Not for all--or even most--tastes, the result is abrasive and weirdly haunting. [Nov 2005, p.135]

Sad, pretty, funny and touching. [#14, p.137]

If his subject matter is getting stranger, however, his semiacoustic music is comfortingly familiar and expert. [#11, p.135]

Distraught longtime fans can take comfort in the gothic ire of the Banner-fronted, Hurricane Katrina–lamenting “Seein’ Thangs” and the ambling blues-hop storytelling of Phonte Coleman on “Backstage Girl,” but little else can be salvaged from the wreckage of Shadow’s abruptly imploding talent.

Even the presence of A-list guests can't redeem such jaded, formulaic songs. [#4, p.118]

Even Monsoon’s best moments are marred by barely audible vocals and dull lyrical abstractions.

It's not quite as thrillingly risky as the Deftones' White Pony, but it deserves the collegiate adulation it will likely receive. [Oct/Nov 2001, p.107]

A set of tuneful, atmospheric doom-pop gems that appealingly swirls stiletto-heel beauty and black-leather brawn. [May 2006, p.108]

A strained, washed-out, sluggish record. [Oct 2004, p.129]

will.i.am... does push [Big] beyond her Sly Stone safety zone. [Apr 2007, p.111]

It improves on the debut, slightly. [#10, p.114]

While Air and Daft Punk have taken discarded pop styles and created modern classics, Trans Am seem happy to wallow in early-MTV nostalgia. [Jun/Jul 2002, p.114]

Buffeted by big guitars, her thin, untrained voice occasionally sounds listless. [May 2004, p.118]

In the quest to make overly bronzed twentysomethings sweat, this endearing pseudo–rebel loses much of the little–sister angst that made her so appealing in the first place.

Harder, denser, uglier. [#15, p.128]

Tweekend lacks the immediacy of Vegas, but it works better the further it strays from Ecstasy-fueled breakbeats and squawking electro-hooks. Unfortunately, it doesn't stray too far. [Aug/Sep 2001, p.122]

A suite of weak songs and half-finished ideas. [Mar 2004, p.120]