Their playful mutability keeps them from being genre exercises and makes I Had A Dream a delight. [No. 137, p.57]

Hopkins drifts too often into listless ambiance for anything here to actually set in. Even so, Immunity manages--more than any if his work to date--to accent Hopkins' greatest asset as a producer: his remarkable attention to detail. [No.99, p.57]

It's far and away Fernow's most affecting recorded work to date. [No. 120, p.59]

Its most accomplished album. [#60, p.97]

All at-once nauseating, delectable and habit-forming. [No.90, p.55]

Another profoundly pastoral and ethereal folk record. [No. 114, p.53]

Fade is a gripping down-tempo treatise on the finer and coarser points of hunkering down. [No. 95, p.61]

The songs on Citizen Of Glass feel more solid and lyrically grounded in the known world. [No. 138, p.59]

It's all such lovely, elegantly refined stuff that it's easy to sink under the spell of its warm, somnolent glow. [No. 142, p.61]

Smashing. [No. 159, p.57]

What's striking is how her voice, which once epitomized the prototypical fair young maiden, remains just as compellingly austere. [No. 138, p.55]

Easily the most vibrant they've ever sounded. [No. 137, p.59]

This new one sounds happily like a distillation of the best of Slowdive. The effects--and the effects pedals--are still dreamy. [No. 143, p.61]

On the band's latest, they continue the move toward the tighter concision found on 2009's King Of Jeans, but unlike Pissed Jeans' previous efforts, there isn't a seven-minute dirge on Honeys. [No. 95, p.51]

On Dilate, Bardo Pond does the trick by adding a bit of restraint and space to its familiar blend of Iommi-grade riffing, volume-induced overtones and Isobel SOllenberger's inimitably blasted moan. [#49, p.69]

With its plumb-pretty songs, Mouthfuls will be part of the Smithsonian's year 3000 exhibit on white people. [#59, p.95]

Ward's far-ranging sound transcends the room.... If only his lyrics were as fresh. [#58, p.106]

Serves as an excellent introduction to the power and eclecticism of this veteran Balkan brass band. [No. 89, p.52]

There's no flashiness here, but a slow-burning passion makes this record smoke. [No.99, p.56]

A set of wistful, stirring anthems. [No. 141, p.61]

It's sharply focused--and sonically beautiful--but also abstract, with an open-ended feeling to the swooping voices and lyrical ambiguities. [No. 145, p.51]

Part prog, part punk and part reefer haze. [#60, p.106]

Non-converts will probably find it all a little too overtly stylized, but there's no questioning the singer's focus and dedication, and it's a worthy addition to the Rowland legend. [No. 104, p.54]

The Facts of Life is a more polished affair, casting vocalist Sarah Nixey's wispy hush into a pool of plucked strings and orchestral flourish -- duly poisoned by some blippy Air trippiness. [#49, p.68]

Harcourt holds nothing back, transcends theatrics and reaches the top. [No. 135, p.59]

This is the first time since 2003 that Elverum fully succeeds in casting a meditative spell strong enough to suck everyone listing into its singular IRL riptide. [No. 117, p.57]

Overgrown is a fuller, more heated album than its predecessor, denser and more tender. [No. 98, p.52]

Mutilator continues Thee Oh Sees' unprecedented, mind-melting hot streak. [No. 121, p.61]

So low-key that you'd be more likely to slip on it than stumble over it. [#59, p.96]

The real draws here are the stunning fresh takes on some of the finest works to be found in the Antony & The Johnsons catalog. [No.90, p.52]

La Foret sounds like what rock might've become if all the British Invasion bands had hailed from postwar Berlin. [#69, p.112]

It's clear that Vile still has great ambition to make robust, timeless rock--and the songs to back it up. [No. 97, p.60]

Her witty wordplay and ironic humor offers a bit of relief from heartache and confusion that colors the record, but it's those shattered emotions that are the most impressive. [No. 134, p.57]

The album, fun though it is, also burns with anger and tension. It's another way Spoon throws into sharp relief what there--and what's not. [No. 141, p.51]

They produce an extraordinary palette of tone, color and sound as they range through the worlds of rockabilly, early R&B, blues, folk and punk. [No. 146, p.61]

Historian is another triumph. [No. 150, p.51]

GRRR! is a total cash grab. [No. 94, p.59]

It's best to take each line as a scene, each song an onslaught of images, but embedded indelibly into your brain by hooks that won't quit. [No. 102, p.53]

A dark album that shines very brightly. [#46, p.85]

The band digs deep to produce 11 sharp tracks, marked by its inventive stylistic hybrid. [No. 147, p.61]

After several years of wandering in the sonic wilderness, Parker has returned to his roots with a velvet-fisted vengeance. [No. 111, p.58]

Cronin learned how to pack garage/punk fuzzbombs with big hooks as the Moonhearts' frontman, and he hasn't lost the ragged-and-reckless urgency here.[#81, p. 55]

Siberia recaptures the exciting invention and fire of a lost album recorded between Today's Active Lifestyles and Exploded Drawing without a hint of any decade but the one we now sit in, plus whatever is going to musically transpire in the future. [No. 103, p.58]

Weight is the inexorable comedown: a graceful and timely maturation that might just take a little editing to come through clearly. [No. 138, p.56]

This is music that's instantly, wordlessly evocative while also invitingly open-ended. [No. 102, p.57]

Sounds like classic overcompensation, a racket on wheels trying to live up to its hype by merely playing over it. [#59, p.98]

Ivy Tripp is the sound of promise realized. [No. 119, p.61]

1992-2001 functions as a perfect introduction to the band's catalog, bundling tracks from its five albums with nine unreleased songs. [No. 147, p.53]

The genre's sonic touchstones are still mostly intact here, but More Faithful is full of unexpected turns. [No. 122, p.59]

On this enthralling sophomore effort, Spaltro continues to refine her skill set and approach without sacrificing any of her signature adventurousness or decidedly un-lamb-like power. [No. 118, p.59]

The results are nothing short of stunning. [No. 149, p.59]

A layered-yet-vintage, warm, highly analog sound ensued. [No. 150, p.57]

These songs, as punchy as ever, don't lean quite so heavily on unhinged, whiskey-soaked abandon. [No. 107, p.57]

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

AM's wheel-spinning is a bit of a letdown, but a handful of tracks keep it from being a total throwaway. [No. 102, p.52]

The Gossip keeps getting better, stretching a little more. [#59, p.95]

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

It's a beautiful behemoth. [No. 112, p.56]

When's it on, which is most of the time, it's deep and beyond category. [No. 143, p.57]

Morning Phase is ultimately a mood piece: a quiet triumph of feeling over form. [No. 107, p.51]

Researching the Blues is masterfully produced and keenly performed. [No.90, p.60]

The album refines rather than revamps the Decemberists' approach; it's the brightest panel of a triptych, not a new exhibit. [#67, p.95]

This is prime indie rock with all the frills excised, but all the feels intact. [No. 112, p.58]

Abandon is a baseline, with Chardiet demonstrating a solid understanding of the fundamentals. [No.99, p.59]

The peculiar genius of the Sadies is to find new variations on a sonic model that, by this point, no other band is working with quite as much earned confidence. [No. 139, p.59]

The band's riffs and solos topple like old growth redwoods unmoored by a mudslide, and when Haino drops his mic to join the fray on guitar and electronics, the collapse is complete. [No. 150, p.56]

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

Though at times exquisite, the slow-burn even instrumental keel is, ironically, the most jarring aspect of Push The Sky Away. [No. 96, p.52]

[The] sly, artful brilliance should come as no real surprise. [No. 100, p.57]

Where Black Up provided catchy hooks to draw you in deeper, Lese Majesty is nowhere near as fun or--despite pushing the aural envelope--interesting. [No. 111, p.61]

Its songs are energetic and uplifting, with frontman and main songwriter Amayo's half-sung/half-spoken lyrics balancing snide humor with insightful commentary into the roots of the political quandaries we confront on a daily basis. [No. 146, p.53]

Each of the tracks--icy, foggy. eerily paced, speedy or unusually slow--move with sinister intention.... Still, the set meanders to include lesser, black-lit essayers of the form such as Dr. Phibes & The House Of Wax Equations. [No. 128, p.58]

While Moms never reaches the earwormy heights that it leads off with, there's still a bunch of choice moments [throughout the album]. [No.91 p. 56]

The band rarely strays from the album versions of songs (sometimes to a frustrating degree; would it have killed B&S to record a version of 'Sleep The Clock Around' without the annoyingly long fade-in?), but such faithful rendering doesn’t make the material predictable; rather, it shows the band at the top of its delicate game.

Monomania is stacked with track-to-track unshakable, albeit twisted, pop melodies and an atmosphere of unrest that will stick with you between repeated listens. [No.99, p.52]

The Long Goodbye is no cutesy, navel-gazing crap; it's the neglected pop practice of C-A-R-E and reverence of form and forefathers. [#59, p.93]

Apocrypha feels of a piece with Eggs, though without as many layers or as heightened a sense of playfulness. [#75, p.91]

The tunes here are understated. The atmospheric arrangements give the material a feel that's more reminiscent of empty bedrooms than smoky barrooms. [No. 141, p.55]

This record feels pretty special. [No. 115, p.55]

The result is the most dynamic LP of Russian Circles' career. [No. 134, p.61]

Some of the lyrics are so biting they practically melt through the speakers... [#50, p.90]

Simplicity never sounded so sinister. [#49, p.78]

Golightly's voice has the ability to inhabit a variety of characters in conversational styles, and her versatile guitar playing makes the songs come alive. [No. 107, p.57]

The expansive instruments on this double LP lure you into a more relaxed aquatic experience. [No. 113, p.53]

His velvet voice has aged, but with elegiac tunes like “Dog On A Chain,” “Someone Else” and “Friday’s Love,” you can still hear the gifted genius who charmed a true legion of harmonic pop savants. [No. 129, p.59]

The richest, smartest, warmest work they've ever done. [No. 117, p.61]

A brilliant pastiche of styles. [No. 125, p.57]

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]

If it all sounds a bit vintage, at age 61, he's earned the right. [No. 126, p.61]

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

His guitar solos are more electrified than usual, and they sound like burning juke-joint riffs... a true American original. [No. 82, p. 53]

More than enough to make this probably the finest dance-party record this summer will have to offer. [No. 121, p.55]

Tyler has crafted eight instrumentals that augment his lilting fingerpicking with stately keyboards and brisk beats. Aside from a few minutes of white-line numbness, it’s a salutary combination. [No. 132, p.61]

Blonde Redhead's early sound, however, can be tough grasp as an "artistic" aesthetic sometimes derails the excellent juggling of downtown noise and heads-down rock of the band's more focused moments. [No. 136, p.53]

It's every bit as special as it sounds. [No. 149, p.57]

It’s a step forward for sure, though at times it reinforces the cloying feeling that the need to complicate rather than simplify makes for overwrought music. But you can’t blame a band for being thoughtful or for playing like something is at stake.

The title track suggests maybe they've found a perfect merging of the '70s and the heavies, as it shifts from funky shuffle to skulking stomp. The rest is still King Crimson than King Diamond, but that's not a bad thing. [No. 136, p.61]

Snaith lets his wanderlust steer, and the album is better for it. [#68, p.91]