A headphone masterpiece. [#25, p.94]

What makes Tamborello so special is the fact that his music can stand as comfortably in a Kompakt Records compilation as it can in a room filled with indie nerds. [#25, p.102]

No explanation needed--it's just great. [#25, p.96]

It's the post-apocalyptic sonics, the industrial-strength bombast and buzzing bondage-core that mightily sustains its frightening 16-track, one-hour run-time.

On Cassadaga, classic sounds are resurrected in a satisfying swirl of country, gospel, cinematic pop, and of course, electro-folk.

The end result is a kind of low-flying elation that only these experienced noirists could deliver.

I still think I'd rather have a chat with him than listen to his music. [#24, p.90]

This is meat and 'taters rock mixed with the Devil's blood. [#24, p.90]

A collection of reliable, trustworthy tunes. [#24, p.98]

The downer record of the year. [#24, p.92]

Most of Living With the Living is in fact very good--which is to say that only some of its songs emerge as equals with the best of Leo's personal catalogue. [#24, p.90]

A depraved collection of indigestible tracks. [#24, p.99]

The traditional folk-rock methods begin to falter as the album wears on, leaving Mason's stirring tales of troubles and joys feeling rather one-dimensional. [#24, p.98]

Ruff Draft is live, and you need to play it loud enough to wake the dead. [#24, p.98]

While Turn the Lights Out may be missing some of their past piss 'n' vinegar... the love of good ol' fashioned guitar rock is still their calling card. [#24, p.94]

Hats of to the Buskers has a few top-notch tunes up its sleeve, but it generally fails to match the thrilling energy and shambolic charm of the [Libertines]. [#24, p.94]

Just think of it as Diet Strokes. [#24, p.100]

With Myth Takes, [!!!] cleans up from trying to get people to trip balls and instead tries to make them just dance really fucking hard for like an hour or so... while tripping balls. [#24, p.96]

This new Air CD bcomes their decade-in, it's-all-about-your-collaborations inevitability. Genuine fans will hardly be shocked that they pull it off with style and grace. [#24, p.89]

Truly, there isn't anything here that comes close to achieving the anthemic, stomp-along, bombast of Funeral's best works. But this is a different album, and a different Arcade Fire playing to their biggest strength: emoting. [#24, p.88]

A good mix of weird pop and airy singing and good beats. [#24, p.92]

These touches of color set this album above its pasty-skinned, post-rock cronies and prove National Anthem of Nowhere an apt title. [#24, p.92]

The one-man result: breezy soul tracks with pop structures, chill vocals and a grab bag of flourishes recalling everything from McCartney to Prince.

Wolf & Cub manage to fill Vessels to the brim with irreverent guitar solos, pounding bass lines, and, well, let's just say they have two drummers for a good reason. [#24, p.102]

This funk is organic. [#24, p.90]

Subdued guitar work and sleepy rhythms provide a solid underpinning for the airy melodies, keeping them from drifting away like freshly-blown bubbles.

Yet another firework-filled post-modern work of true art. [#24, p.89]

Ambitious, beautiful and sorrowful--it's everything a fan of the gloriously sad stuff could hope for on a rainy day. [#24, p.97]