Rancid find plenty of ways to bend punk's rules. [Sep 2003, p.127]

Smarter, bouncier and more full of insidious electronic hooks than its predecessors. [Aug 2003, p.124]

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

Alien Ant Farm's songs may be catchy, but their wishy-washy personality makes it hard to care. [Sep 2003, p.118]

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

The offhand charm isn't enough. [Sep 2003, p.123]

The pie-in-the-sky ambitions may be a little much, but credit Franti for dreaming up a kinder, gentler new world order. [Sep 2003, p.122]

Quirks and all, it's a consistently absorbing tale from a songwriter who's still pushing himself. [Sep 2003, p.132]

Their debut throbs like the Strokes with cross-eyed parents, their songs gritty and economical, their drummer nasty in all the best places. [Aug 2003, p.126]

Never anything less than enthralling. [Sep 2003, p.121]

As a songwriter, Carrabba is growing: this album shows more melodic and tonal variety than his previous efforts. [#18, p.118]

Ceaselessly enthusiastic European dance-pop that's deliriously colorful, vividly inane and usually about themselves. [Aug 2003, p.126]

They're so straightforward, you can forget how crafty, even sly, Smash Mouth can get. [Sep 2003, p.129]

This is a credible update on the classic Killing Joke sound. [Oct 2003, p.118]

These oddballs have chops aplenty, and the balancing act they pull off on Quebec is no joke. [Sep 2003, p.132]

Mya gets lost on Moodring. [#18, p.128]

Too much of Strays settles for the pedestrian. [Aug 2003, p.126]

Beneath the sweetest of the album's retro harmonies, though, lurk harsh synths and dark thoughts. [Oct 2003, p.128]

Glumly generic. [Aug 2003, p.124]

The music makes her giddiness contagious. [#16, p.114]

There are solid songs here... but the spliced-on attempts at gritty authenticity make every note on this record sound test-marketed. [#18, p.121]

The kind of laconic, deceptively laid-back statement that cult heroes Alex Chilton or Doug Sahm might have dashed off in their prime. [#18, p.123]

Streetwise, self-aware and clever. [Aug 2003, p.124]

Oliveri needs a grounding element; without it, he just plays the Neanderthal wild-ass screamer. [Sep 2003, p.126]

A startlingly generic effort. [Sep 2003, p.120]

Roars like Led Zeppelin, churns like King Crimson and throbs like early Santana. [#17, p.138]

Dignified and confident but slightly starved for ideas. [Aug 2003, p.125]

Farrar revives Neil Young's habit of presenting the same songs in different styles. [#17, p.134]