On songs like "In the Afternoon" and "Time is Running out," Maclean fails to add even a shred of feeling to his chilly IDM clones.

Despite the relatively spartan proceedings, there is a substantial amount to latch onto here.

And though the album is full of promising leads and sharp-witted initiative, it's hard to shake the feeling that this album is a collection of unfinished ideas, presented with no pretensions to the contrary.

Restraint and frustration are the dominant themes, but the short, aggressive outbursts don't always offer enough release to justify the fatiguing buildups.

What strikes most is a sense of uncomfortable suspension, and what keeps the album afloat remains a true mystery listen after listen.

Solid, if unspectacular.

If you are not in the right mood, Strange Geometry sounds like pretty melodies, plenty of atmosphere, and not a whole let else.

The Radar Brothers have been called "pastoral," "wandering" and "spacey." Their latest, The Fallen Leaf Pages, adds nothing new to this mix of descriptors.

Though the dark atmosphere can weigh Cavelight down on extended listening, it is the record's most lush, emotional moments, like the operatic "Sunday Séance," that are most suggestive of Blockhead's potential.

Last Night is as moody as funk can get, and the results range from soulful to pretentious.

The spoken-word Sonny and Cher act of Chains and Sue does gets tiresome at moments, lyrics like "you be the follower, let's kill the leader" aren't as clever as their authors believe, and the record does run on a fairly consistent mid-tempo bounce.

It's still very plainly the Dulli Show, placing his cigarette-stained voice and oversized heartache front-and-center.

Bumblebeez brings loose, frenetic energy to a mash-up of likely and unlikely sources.

Despite mining decades-old forms, The Anomoanon's honest rock is hard to dislike.

Battery is an album of diminishing returns that sputters out of steam halfway through.

The fusion of The Books' folk stylings and traditional instrumentation (cellos, banjos, clavinets) with Prefuse's hip-hop stutter-funk produces fresh moments, just not as many as desired.

Greater accessibility does not necessarily mean higher quality.

[Disc 1 is] a revealing, if not quite essential, portrait of the artist.... [Disc 2 is] an inventive, rewarding look at the Pixies esteemed catalogue.

As hit-and-miss as its 2003 predecessor.

The harmonies aren't as blissful and the songs more conventional than those of previous releases.

Adherence to stock chord progressions, interminably chugging guitars and a dearth of new ideas since 2000's The Sophtware Slump gives the impression that Sumday is Grandaddy-by-rote.

The songs are likable, but lack a core.

Lead bat Eric Johnson is a talented songwriter but his '60s lite-psych melodies and scruffy acoustic backdrop are not just tired, they're nearly dead.

George has an indistinct voice somewhere between Suzanne Vega and Cat Power. Her lyrics are not mind-blowing, but not at all banal.

Impressive despite its occasional lack of maturity.

As grounds for our own wandering imaginations and protesting voices, Horses' six songs are not as fertile as what's come before them.

As a hip-hop record, Headset's Space Settings fails to hit the mark of its influences, but it is successful in its own right.

The punk dominates more than it ever did on its electro-tilted predecessors.