On their debut, this trio of fashionably dour West London lads crafts wildly overwrought goth-pop weepers with choruses that would make excellent Robert Smith High School yearbook inscriptions.

She keeps the tone light and playful, but her shopaholic-hottie raps seem written for someone with less emotional baggage. [Nov 2006, p.145]

The electronic dance-rock gets the pop job done. [Mar 2003, p.119]

Mostly, though, this is vintage mid-'90s Everclear. [#15, p.122]

Unfortunately, it translates into kohl-eyed pantomime, rather than cathartic music, with lyrics so hopelessly trite they sound like a feel-good tract for preschoolers.

The melodies are strikingly generic for a star act. [Dec 2005, p.144]

Their nostalgia is occasionally endearing but usually curdles into crotchetiness. [Aug 2006, p.110]

The new songs are excessively polished and precisely drawn, and relentlessly deliver an uplifting message. [Jun 2006, p.145]

As hipsters, the Yorkshire quartet are still total non-starters, but [North] sees producer Brendan O'Brien honing their gonzo essence to more sizeable effect. [Nov 2004, p.138]

Too often... Branch expresses loneliness or betrayal or yearning without the precision or detail that would make her sentiments memorable. [#17, p.132]

Odditorium buries its subtle hooks deep with endless, shape-shifting jams. [Oct 2005, p.136]

The album is livelier for its contradictions. [Oct 2004, p.124]

Feels desultory and numb, verging on autistic. [Apr 2005, p.116]

Midway through, this becomes the record it should have been all along: a gentle, autumnal meditation on the problems of becoming a badly drawn grown-up. [Nov 2006, p.136]

The momentum collapses with ballads that would suit not only his band but even the Backstreet Boys. [May 2005, 124]

The band turns [Kris Roe's] melodic remembrances into energized, youthful pop anthems, like a less-frivolous Blink-182. [#15, p.120]

Only one song exhibits any nuance or creativity--a cover of Supertramp's 1977 lark "Give a Little Bit." [May 2006, p.106]

He's got some solid grooves... but a lot of them are borrowed. [Sep 2004, p.136]

A few fast, punky songs suit her pout, but more than anything, Hilton makes celebrity sound boring.

Reveals little beyond the surface, and generally rehashes past formulas. [#13, p.96]

If Dido had a thing for madrigals and a suite of neuroses, she might sound this interesting. [#9, p.146]

Doughty’s fourth and best solo album gives up two keepers: the semi-absurdist 'More Bacon Than the Pan Can Handle,' with Stephanie Bischoff’s guest vocals sexier for sure than any synth weirdness Soul Coughing ever confabulated, and the mournfully understated Iraq opener, 'Fort Hood.'

Xzibit reinvents himself as a rapper invigorated by current events. [Nov 2004, p.146]

He tries to atone on the bluesey and somber 'Cadillac on 22's Part 2,' but--like much of this album--the sequel is a downgrade compared to its wrenching and confessional original. [Aug 2008, p.82]

Fireflies' best songs are varied-tempo singalongs--this isn't hardcore but anthemic country. [Oct 2005, p.138]

Woodruff is never anything but coweringly passive, a trait about as appealing as it is annoying. [Apr 2006, p.112]

Her signature sound -- voice snarling through a tangle of massed guitars -- is here, but so is a softer, more vulnerable tone. The melodies, while radio-ready, have a stomping insistence.

When Cornell strains for significance, he squeezes the life out of his music. [Jun 2007, p.105]