Musically the album is AB's heaviest so far, but it's never heavy handed. [Oct 2013, p.90]

It may not be as glorious as some would have had us believe first time round; it's still a great album, but here it's packaged with the extra components that could have made it a better one. [Oct 2014, p.101]

It's highly agreeable background music for those who prefer to keep the curtains closed. [Nov 2014, p.91]

His [Brian Henneman's] Tom Petty-tinged voice and bursts of Rickenbacker guitar reinforce the familiar sound. Unfortunately he doesn’t always move with the times.

Retains naive charm while delivering occasional brilliance. [Feb 2021, p.87]

It’s the nearest Strummer has had to a ‘greatest hits’, replicating six tracks from 001, bolstered for diehards by a previously unreleased acoustic demo of Junco Partner, and 2001 Brixton Academy versions of The Clash’s I Fought The Law and Rudie Can’t Fail that so faithfully replicate Mick Jones’s complex arrangements it sounds like Joe giving it some welly over a well-drilled tribute band.

The cumulative result is an album accessible enough to provide an entry point for the curious, while having just the right amount of wiggy to satisfy paid-up members of the Motorpsycho cult.

Preaching positivity, the woozy dream-pop melodies flutter and float on the air like the butterfly the record takes its name from. [Summer 2021, p.80]

He delves into lesser-known parts, like Wheel, a 1973 song about tragic, rural cycles, and he sings Old Road, as a sparse holler, akin to the original. Other songs celebrate the ‘gonzo country’ aims of Jerry Jeff, but Mr Bojangles and his worn-out shoes is still best in show.

Utterly charming album, with Prophet’s ear for a keening melody still intact – the lovely Red Sky Night, the gentle rhythm of First Came The Thunder -and suffused with a lilting Latin charm. [Nov 2024, p.77]

While this largely live covers set doesn't necessarily flex the Welsh guitarist's creative muscles, it confirms him as a musician who has the genre under his fingernails. [Mar 2025, p.75]

Singer Izzy Baxter Phillips brings a rich, seductive lustre to spacey nu-grunge songs of lust, addiction, sexual assault, neuro-divergence and emotional exhaustion. [Oct 2025, p.76]

There’s no denying the lustre and passion in these songs. A case in point is the blistering call-to-arms, preacher-man fire-and-brimstone sermon True Black. Elsewhere, Tumbleweeds leans towards a darker Ryan Adams or brooding Jason Isbell setting. [Mar 2026, p.79]

Hums Of The Lovin' Spoonful ('66) and Everything Playing ('67) include the odd classic, such as Nashville Cats, but don't gel so well, despite Yanovsky's flamboyant playing. The constant style shifting suits the soundtracks for What's Up, Tiger Lily? and You're A Big Boy Now, with groovy themes a-go-go. [May 2026, p.85]

A weirdly uncomfortable and exhilarating listening from start to finish. [Jan 2021, p.85]

Abstract and startling, listen to the hefty groove of Prayers/Triangles or the slow blooming Phantom Bride and feel the earth move beneath your feet.

My Dying Bride remain steadfastly rooted in gloom. It's a nuanced gloom, though. [Apr 2020, p.87]

Envisioning sci-fi detective themes (Chasing The Tail Of A Dream), mariachi manhunts (It’s You) and Wall-E Of Arabia (Connector), it’s an imaginative if one-level album, animating only for the scuzzy motorik blues pop of Million Eyes, Fear Machine and Holy Revelation or the crisp, catchy psych-pop of Miss Fortune.

Luciel Brown's deadpan helps fuel the no-wave madness. [Jun 2024, p.81]

This is glorious stuff: the punchy, thin lipped Church & State; the affecting wonderfully harmonies of A Woman Oversees; the slowly uncoiling storytelling bound up in the lingering A Long Goodbye. [Nov 2025, p.77]

It's invariably over-punctuated by hyperactive prog-metallic drumming and paradiddly percussion that leaves little space for their ideas to breath, while memorable hooks or riffs get buried in the chaos. [Sep 2023, p.79]

This line-up’s chemistry has reached peak levels here, however, leading to astonishingly wild, lysergic adventures in dynamic sound like sprawling opener Cloud Of Forgetting and the bleak, amorphous 21 minutes of Frankie M.

He doesn't disappoint as he smatters the bulk of this new record with orchestral strings. The pick of the tracks here are the pulsating Pretty Boy, the string-laden I'm Not Giving Up Tonight and the soaring Open The Dorr, See What You Find. [Jul 2023, p.84]

Sleeping Through The War apparently has some kind of political undercurrent, but its (thankfully) obfuscated by Charlie Michael Parks Jr’s unhurried drawl and the layers of fuzzy atmospherics that, hopefully, point to the shape of stoner rock to come.

Opener Up All Night moves through the formulaic pop gears as smoothly as Don Henley cruising along the Pacific Coast Highway, while Holding On is a slickly realised mid-tempo foot tapper. However, shorn of the novelty factor, such middle-of-the-road material remains better suited to balmy summer nights and drivetime radio than to repeated home listening.

Overall, this is their most eclectic album yet and, despite a couple of lightweight generic tracks, their most end-to-end enjoyable too.

Delivering the goods with considerably more venom than you might expect at this stage in the game, Lamb of God remain hard to b(l)eat. [Jun 2020, p.89]

Hearing Southern Man played on a single acoustic guitar as opposed to the thrash of the album is one epiphany, while the windswept Don’t Let It Bring You Down is cataclysmic. ... Magnificent.