It's easily Emerald's least utilitarian album yet. [No. 94, p.53]

The songs' infectiousness outweighs their questionable stylizations. [#81, p. 53]

Baby 81 finds BRMC back in control of the street corner, cigarette squints and rock'n'roll swagger intact. [Summer 2007, p.90]

It’s a simple collection of typically melody-rich songs for piano, bass and drums (Jackson is backed by JJB alums Graham Maby and Dave Houghton) that occasionally swings (“The Uptown Train”) and sometimes lurches like the good old days (“King Pleasure Time”).

It's unclear whether even Kotche really knows what's happening half of the time, but it's a delightfully puzzling ride nevertheless. [No. 108, p.55]

What's great about English Little League very much preaches to the choir. But it's nevertheless clear this crew is ready to welcome some new converts once more. [No. 98, p.51]

Her vocals throughout the album sound relaxed and carefree, with wordless bridges that convey a giddy exuberance beyond the power of any lyric to convey. [No. 115, p.55]

There is nary a wasted moment on No Control. [No. 120, p.61]

Wise Ol' Man is about 70 percent filler, with two new songs, three remixes and alternative takes from the last album, and the two new songs done again as mostly instrumental versions, But the new songs are great, especially the title track. [No. 128, p.55]

[David] Gedge's fragile, understated vocals and keyboardist Sally Murrell's soaring, wordless harmonies only add to the sense of desolation.... [#48, p.79]

There's a duality to Fragrant World that, sized up alongside its two predecessors, reveals an inherent character trait and a more troublesome trend. Bad songs turn into good songs, and good songs turn into better ones. [No.90 p.51]

Some of the Milk Carton Kids' best work to date. [No. 97, p.56]

You wonder if he's forgotten how to have, you know, fun. Approach with caution. [No.87 p.61]

The vocals are random, directionless moans and the open-ended delivery hardly screams, "Listen to me again!" [No. 138, p.53]

Over a full-length album, he's as annoying as ever. [No. 96, p.61]

Their [Doherty and Barat's] boyish charms are punctuated by sneers and jeers, leaving the listener clueless as to who ends where the other begins. That sort of daft mystery makes Anthems--and the Libertines in general--worth its weight in dope and gold. [No. 124, p.58]

For now, an engaging debut. [No. 95, p.60]

An album that is cinematic in scope and has a harmonic narrative as complex as your favorite TV show. [No. 121, p.55]

The pummeling drums and gnarly guitar may sound hardcore on first listen, but they're augmented by bright pop touches that make the bitter sentiments expressed in the lyrics easy to swallow. [No. 103, p.61]

Manages a graceful, humble, grounded timelessness without sacrificing the groove. [#58, p.82]

Their second album only partially makes good on their promise, delivering a lovely package that lacks the emotional punch of last year's terrific self-titled debut. [#55, p.70]

At times, the offering is inviting on the surface, but becomes a bit antiseptic or flattened once you actually get inside. [No. 98, p.53]

These 15 instrumental tracks come across as half exorcism, half jam session, but the result fits pretty well in line with everything they've done in their other bands. [No. 107, p.58]

No matter the song or guest, it always sounds like the Melvins, and that's a good thing. [No. 98, p.58]

While Scolnick hasn’t refined his oftentimes maudlin lyrical sensibilities to match his serious taste for pop hooks, his honeycombed, hopscotching vocal delivery now has some muscle to back it up.

Arnalds' voice is the centerpiece, as each of the 12 tracks lives or dies by her pipes. [No. 96, p.52]

May's singing is the unifying thread, a balmy, melancholy-drenched tenor that brings a touch of sunshine to every word uttered. [No. 102, p.58]

Brock and Co. manage to entertain and amuse as often as they don't. [No. 118, p.51]

Red, Yellow And Blue is good.

The brevity gives the tunes space to present themselves without a needless bridge here or a prideful coda there. [#71, p.102]

The occaisonally infectious hooks keep the shtick from falling into one-dimensional parody. [#64, p.104]

Not only essential, Love And Distance is like nothing you've heard this year. [#64, p.95]

The good (and bad) news for people who love bad (and good) news: Both groups will be delighted and appalled by this record. [No. 112, p.51]

Better still is hearing Byrne's mincing yelp and Veloso's flickering vocals as one entity as it winds its way weirdly through the calm breezes of Talking Heads' "Heaven" as well as a small bunch of flowery nu-brazilian classics and cuts penned by both composers. [#86, p.59]

It may not be what you expect, but it's got the same Dwyer DNA that's always made he band compelling. [No. 138, p.61]

This LP does little to propel her anywhere near the ranks of the big-name women of contemporary pop/rock. [No. 108, p.61]

A backhanded compliment, sure, but really--things could have been so much worse. [No. 93, p.61]

This is Fol Chen's sharpest full-length yet, gaining cohesion from the often mechanically warped vocal presence of new frontwoman Sinosa Loa. [No. 97, p.55]

If only [L'Altra] would wipe away the polish, stop being yet another tender pop band and let its melodies be springboards for exploration instead of straightjackets. [#54, p.94]

Daybreaker, though neither as arresting as her debut nor as cohesive as its follow-up, almost corrects the inconsistency issue. [#55, p.86]

Keep On Your Mean Side suffers from the same-samey quicksand tha bogs down the overhyped Yeah Yeah Yeahs. [#58, p.95]

Kind of like the Cocteau Twins if Don Ho produced their albums. [#64, p.86]

The previously skimpy instrumental backing has been beefed up at times with synthetic horn parts: a good idea. [#61, p.102]

The members of The Cave Singers seem intent on scraping away their previous bands' noise and bluster to find a music that's no less nervy and riveting. [Fall 2007, p.92]

He seeks to boldly chase his pop-music idols, which hits the mark only about half the time. But when he doesn't, at least it's a glorious miss. [No. 95, p.56]

Like many arch songwriters, the band tends to drop images and melodies from its favorite tunes into its work, phrases that add little sparks of frission to the Brothers' already strong melodic structure. [No. 110, p.54]

Their new album A Thousand Thoughts, featuring mostly unreleased tracks of music from 14 countries, does suggest that in this expanded universe Kronos have come to resemble sentimental tourists rather then intrepid explorers. [May 2014, p.65]

A gorgeous, seductive album. [No. 114, p.56]

Knopfler inhabits his tunes with an earnest intensity, a slight melancholy and an age-old wisdom. [No. 118, p.57]

This laudable open-mindedness [to try anything] may have finally backfired. [No. 122, p.55]

Their ideal is to make a good album every year, and this, their third offering, meets that goal. This is teen pop with crystalline harmonies and heart-tugging lyrics, but they have a maturity that belies their years. [No. 129, p.57]

Felt delivers in established structural ways while giving the songs frequent jolts to the system--either overall or in precision-chosen moments. [No. 150, p.55]

It's hard to keep this album from simply asking why over and over again. [No.99, p.59]

The Bunnymen haven't sounded this vital since 1987's "Lips Like Sugar," and some of Flowers' standout cuts rank among the band's best. [#50, p.87]

More of the same, yes, but good enough to make longtime fans crank the volume on the way to their divorce hearings while younger converts learn that the rock wasn't born last year. [#55, p.83]

A wonderful album, with Coomes and Weiss at their very best. [#51, p.107]

Anachronism never sounded so good. [#53, p.72]

The Ghost in the Daylight is a thing of great beauty... [yet] sounds dull - perfect, of course, with every note in the right place, but perfectly predictable too, with 10 songs that blend into one long, brooding whole. [No.87 p.55]

Not Stars’ best, and far from their worst, but an album’s worth of the usual string-laden drama-pop seems a thin substitute for what today’s kids are seeking.

Even at their most obvious, the Buzzcocks can smoke the young guns. [#58, p.83]

This sophomore set--which largely sidelines the folkier aspects of their 2013 debut in favor of a sharper, fuller, occasionally aggressive big-pop approach--offers plenty of grand, gut-busting hooks. [No. 129, p.57]

The reanimated sludgefest is no mere quaint time capsule; music this brutally elemental is as eternal as the stars and as fresh as the debuts of Black Sabbath and the Beastie Boys. [No. 130, p.59]

As potent and timely as anything it released during the Reagan era. [#64, p.83]

Ultimately, it's a delightful indulgence--you're never quite convinced that Turner's about to quit his day job--but a hugely enjoyable one, and Arctic Monkeys fans, in particular, will devour this. [No. 130, p.59]

It's easy to get caught up in TEEN's dreams without completely falling asleep, a tough act to follow with so many similar acts just simply getting lost. [#90, p.61]

[Lee delivers] some of the most impassioned performances he's ever recorded. [No. 104, p.58]

When this band surprises... it provides moments indie rock could use more of. [#70, p.102]

Third Eye Centre is a wonderful addendum to the band's prolific and enchanting catalog. [No. 102, p.53]

It's a tossup as to how much of Conn's shtick is a put-on, but when the music's this good, that's a moot question. [#75, p.94]

The production effects on the voice and guitar give the LP an eerie feel that complements Cunningham's tales of quiet masochism. [No. 139, p.55]

Spektor's knack for orchestral arrangement is more vivid than her writing here. [No. 137, p.61]

On fourth album Saturdays=Youth, the warm synthesizers are still in play and Gonzalez’s propensity for beguiling bombast is undiminished, but by imposing structure and melodic discipline on these sprawling compositions, he’s made them even more elegant and effective.

Axes comes off as a spikier, more experimental Stereolab or a more adept Raincoats. [#68, p.91]

A degree of delicacy colors album number eight. [No. 125, p.55]

The stark, live rendering at Oran Mor reveals the quiet beauty and strength these songs possessed all along. [No. 126, p.61]

Though not everything in the limper, bloatier back half hits the mark, they're mostly aiming in the right direction. [No.91 p.59]

That Vol.1 can capture that energy and enthusiasm of the [excellent] live show, the youthful vigor that prevents it from going into the realm of self-indulgent fogey prog pretty much guarantees we'll be following their career until they're old men. [No.88 p.60]

The Evening Descends is a dizzying, carefully crafted ride; it spins, but never out of control. [Winter 2008, p.102]

A shockingly vital, crackling, unencumbered solo instrumental record. [No. 120, p.55]

It's Melted Toys' hooks and songwriting that act as an anchor. [No. 111, p.57]

Twerps succeed in making decades-old style sound brand new again. [No. 117, p.61]

Friends lose themselves when they try too hard to sound like the Ting Tings, Cults or the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, which they do too often here. [No.89 p.54]

Only the rambunctious can appreciate the tinny, relentlessly inventive hybridization herein. [#64, p.92]

Even as it completely eschews Mohawke's maximalist, hyperkinetic style of old for a newfound soft side, Lantern registers as a limp, populist gesture for how ham-fistedly it attempts to reconcile the two. [No. 122, p.57]

Waves of corrosive guitar distortion surfing minimal, hammered eighth-note bass and programmed beats, with just enough feedback to aid recollection of the band that created Psychocandy. [No. 141, p.59]

Too often the tracks meander aimlessly, never building enough momentum to culminate into any kind of climax. [No. 94, p.54]

A potent set of tunes. [No. 130, p.53]

Overly busy.... They're best when they act just like Ratatat. [No. 123, p.58]

Semicircle touches on elements of the socially aware and a-woke with old-fashioned message-driven songs. [No. 150, p.56]

His new sound is interesting and may find its own fans, but it's such a strong departure from his last album that it will likely leave his current admirers scratching their heads. [No. 96, p.59]

This time it's insipid, acousti-stomp faux-psych of the down-to-mid-tempo variety, and autopilot riffers that come off like MADtv skits about stoner metal. [No. 104, p.59]

More often than not throughout the careening Bitter Rivals, there's clarity where there was disturbance, melody where there was once dissonance, and more nuanced vocal hooks and ditzy sonic flips than appeared on Sleigh Bells' first two records combined. [No. 104, p.51]

The fact that two 19-year-old players--drummer Evan Laffer and guitarist Matt Pulos--generate this crushing wall of sound makes it even more impressive. [No. 111, p.55]

She brings the art school to the dance floor in non-corny ways. [No. 112, p.57]

Multi-instrumental wizards Kattner and Thorburn trade off on guitar and keyboards, with Plummer supplying the rhythmic anchor, to produce a spectral sound that complements their instrumental digressions and vocal anomalies. [No. 147, p.57]

A vibrant, dubbed-out dance album that rises above the wobble-obsessed rabble. [No.86, p.57]

Anything In Return us ultimately a chill listen, but not a necessarily memorable one. [No. 95, p.59]

These tunes would work better if the influences weren't so obvious. [No. 117, p.55]