Visitations doesn't produce the novel shock that greeted Clinic's debut single, but it does find new rewards within predictable parameters. [#74, p.94]

Sounds far richer than the one-off project that it is. [#74, p.97]

The emotional gravitas only lends heft to the group's exhilarating, ever-present sugar high. [#74, p.104]

What had been a fascinating display of aural minimalism has morphed into a haphazard, ill-advised mess. [#75, p.96]

Ghost's most ambitious achievement yet. [#74, p.98]

Strained, anachronistic verses may test your patience, but given what Arbouretum has to say when no one's singing, there's still a lot to uncover. [#74, p.90]

Mixes equal parts Teenage Fanclub and mid-period Wilco. [#74, p.91]

An endearing solo effort with a higher percentage of hits to misses than 2003's My Room Is A Mess. [#75, p.96]

Oh, what fey-but-fecund pleasures lurk in the grooves of the group's third full-length. [#74, p.91]

Orphans plays less like a career capstone than Waits' one-man Library of Congress field-recording project. [#74, p.93]

While it is technically flawless and masterfully executed, it makes for awkward listening. [#74, p.102]

The truth is, even Angels & Airwaves do this sort of epic-emo thing with more verve, if not more Verve. [#73, p.96]

Sometimes the gambles pay off... and sometimes they don't. [#74, p.108]

How in god's name did Damon Gough fall so far? [#74, p.90]

The album is so unassuming and unhurried that it's easy to dismiss. Just hang in there and play it again. [#74, p.97]

And Now That I'm In Your Shadow finds him at another peak. [#74, p.98]

Pollard's most efficient and exploratory album in years. [#73, p.99]

Ambitious, risky and occasionally rambling, this is a song cycle best absorbed in a start-to-finish listen. [#73, p.93]

Terrifically jangling. [#73, p.99]

His best since 2001's The World Won't End. [#73, p.104]

The sum of these elements could achieve greatness if not for one simple-yet-major falw: Beach House manages a memorable sound but not memorable songs. [#74, p.91]

Uneven. [#73, p.112]

A draining listen due to its scatterbrained ideas and patchy sequencing. [#73, p.106]

If you aren't smitten with this band yet, you will be soon. [#73, p.94]

Arthur is still writing seamlessly melodic, slightly psychedelic tunes, often thickened with atmospheric reverb or distant electronics. [#73, p.84]

Where 2005's harrowing Frances The Mute strikes the right balance between inspiration and indulgence, the Mars Volta loses its equilibrium with Amputechture. [#73, p.96]

Crazy Itch Radio is catchy overload. [#73, p.86]

This return to form annotates the band's last 22 years rather nicely. [#73, p.110]

[A] promising set of laptop balladry, ambient Brian Eno classicism and even an attempt at shifty electro-funk. [#73, p.85]

More than ever, Magic Potion hears the duo transitioning from blues to blues-based. [#73, p.87]

On Dark Light Daybreak... Now It's Overhead cuts back on its former haze to graze in cleaner pastures. [#73, p.103]

One of Molina's strongest, most interesting records yet. [#73, p.96]

While Grizzy Bear often comes off as some backwoods cousin of the Elephant 6 collective, the band sports as much texture as Boards Of Canada. [#73, p.93]

Though there's plenty of wit... to go along with copious amounts of jangle, twang and... Brian Wilson-esque sweep, there's often an overriding, wistful sadness mixed in with the Left Coast hedonism. [#73, p.106]

He pushes himself into unfamiliar, often sonically jarring new terrain. [#73, p.112]

A personal (and personnel) triumph for the band. [#73, p.90]

Damaged excels in what Lambchop does best, which is to gather up a dozen-plus musicians and get them to play as little as possible. [#73, p.98]

It's quite haunting. [#73, p.103]

Largely thanks to more robust production and instrumentation than was afforded last year's Pajo, 1968 proves that it isn't so much what you say, but how sweet you can make it sound. [#73, p.103]

The most mature and cohesive set of songs in Ward's catalog. [#73, p.109]

It's very Art Of Noise circa 1991. [#73, p.104]

The uniformly dark, driving song cycle has no real high or low points--just 11 consistently thrilling guitar and drum loops led around in circular crescendos by Windett's wire-taut tenor. [#73, p.84]

Bed... opts to crank the volume knobs a little, with wildly divergent results. [#73, p.100]

Interesting sounds? To be sure. Impenetrable songs? That, too. [#73, p.94]

Seductively strange. [#73, p.98]

Fairly golden and never uninteresting. [#73, p.110]

Predictable pleasures abound. [#74, p.95]

Leadoff track "Six Feet Under"- with its whispery falsetto chorus skewered by the ominous plea, "Call me when you're six feet underground" - is among the catchiest and most emotionally exposed songs Auer has ever recorded. [Jul/Aug 2006, p.86]

Cement[s] the Truckers' status as one of the best rock 'n' roll bands going. [#71, p.93]

There are moments when all this earnestness turns sickly and Burns gets too serious about his gifts... but the eclectic moments of bass, banjo and French vocals... manage to jerk things back into focus. [#71, p.88]

Morrissey regains his knack for conversational hooks and his wry, literate sense of humor. [#71, p.105]

Taut, catchy songs ripe with beginner's pluck. [#71, p.105]

There's a lot to love about 'Sno Angel... Like You. [#71, p.98]

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

A mixed bag. [#71, p.102]

A surprisingly mature effort. [#71, p.112]

Coomes' vividly imagined, bloodcurdling tales of anger and dreaming are so cleanly produced and layered... that you barely remember how lousy Quasi's other records sound in comparison. [#71, p.110]

[An] impressive debut. [#71, p.87]

If Dunger is trying to shed the [Van Morrison] comparison, Here's My Song won't help matters. [#71, p.94]

Full of ripping guitar work and hooks galore. [#74, p.95]

Goldfrapp is the rare dance art-pop band that bleeds artistic integrity without looking back to the '80s for inspiration. [#71, p.98]

Casts [their] this-is-not-a-love-song songs in an ultraviolet, goth-shoegazer glow that stretches [their] glistening guitar ripples to Mogwai-like proportions. [#71, p.100]

The formula is familiar... but the results can be stranger than recent 'Lab fare. [#71, p.91]

Musically, Fox fulfills the wish list of fans who've waitied for new material since 2002's Blacklisted. [#71, p.89]

Never mind McBean's more successful other gig; Mountaintops don't get much blacker than this. [#71, p.108]

There are but three words to describe the sixth album from [Nightmares On Wax]... "repetition"... "derivative"... "listless."[#71, p.108]

Most of Skeleton is an endless rush, sounding like up-tempo versions of the Pixies' surf-rock choruses. [#71, p.93]

A taut, 40-minute affair with no filler. [#71, p.110]

Arab Strap's most affecting album yet. [#71, p.86]

Some of the most progressive tracks of its 20-year career. [#71, p.93]

We're left with a meandering, psychedelic buzz--not a dizzying, mind-expanding head-trip. [#71, p.102]

Sounds like the soundtrack for a post-apocalyptic street carnival. [#71, p.105]

Sure, the stories are worn and the whiskey is cut-rate, but the feeling is real. [#71, p.113]

Bitter Honey hits like a series of heart punches, and the quality of the writing is such that it doesn't get old even after multiple back-to-back spins. [#71, p.87]

THe duo has undeniable songstress skills, but it delivers its flawless melodies with the enthusiasm of a sewing circle. [#71, p.113]

There's a strange, practiced quality to the pop numbers that robs them of their buoyancy. [#71, p.87]

As he continues to spin funny, poignant, depressing and eminently melodic tales of woe, it's clear McCaughey is a staggering genius aging as superbly as a fine bottle of hooch. [#71, p.106]

For those inclined toward the indie end of things, there's plenty to like here, but there's also plenty that will inspire head-scratching or, worse yet, yawns. [#71, p.89]

It's as good a collection as Saint Etienne has ever released. [#71, p.111]

After making three great albums in a row, for Marshall to turn in a merely decent one seems like a letdown. [#71, p.88]

Like [Bright Eyes'] Conor Oberst, Sennett teeters between precious and wild. [#70, p.94]

On Makers, Votolato rarely digs deep enough to scar, and he tends to wander where he thinks inspiration might live instead of letting it find him. [#70, p.110]

Balances restraint and abandon in a near-perfect ritual tease. [#71, p.99]

Detrola, while still unpredictable, manages a certain unity. [#71, p.99]

Many of these tracks are simply products of their time. [#71, p.91]

Lasting impressions: Unlike sophomore clunker Room On Fire, you'll still be listening to First Impressions in two years and probably digging it even more. [#71, p.113]

Capacious, intimate and brimming with both whimsy and tension, Recording A Tape is what classical music might sound like from some advanced alien civilization. [#70, p.86]

On first listen, For The Season is pleasantly trippy. Listen closely, however, and it seems rather patchy. [#70, p.100]

Colder achieves a startling freshness on its second full-length that few post-punk bands can even hope to approach. [#70, p.89]

If it takes another 36 years for something so sublime, I await the next 36 years. [#70, p.86]

On Rehearsing My Choir, the Furnaces are just defiant because they can be, indulging every impulse but neglecting to make any of them even remotely compelling. [#70, p.96]

Feels is layered as no other Collective album before it. [#70, p.87]

What's missing most will probably not be missed at all: Berman's tendency to sound slack, sluggish and a bit lackluster. [#69, p.109]

The crisp production of Strange Geometry does give the group's more sedate inclinations a mild kick in the pants. [#70, p.89]

On record, the Constantines' contemplative songs have always fared best, and Tournament is an album almost full of them. [#69, p.92]

Finds both beatmaker and rapper at the peak of their powers. [#70, p.89]

Four becomes truly trying during its tangent-prone second half. [#70, p.93]

Gimmie Trouble: cyber funk or cyborg punk? [#70, p.86]