It's a Wonderful Life raises the bar already set high by fellow post-modern woodsmen types like Grandaddy and Mercury Rev. [#51, p.116]

Casts Yoshimi as a manic priestess espousing the various virtues of the universal religion of rhythm. [#69, p.105]

Twenty years later then, Glory remains, for better or worse, a totemic symbol of a n overinflated, overexcited era that now seems long, long gone and scarcely conceivable. [No. 114, p.51]

There isn't a moment when Arthur Lee is anything less than Arthur Lee: brilliant, unpredictable and relentless in his drive to reinvent himself. [No. 116, p.59]

Come to it for the moody abstractions and impressionistic scene-setting. [No.112, p.60]

Just like one's real family, Arthur's Family will lift you up, tear you down, make you face your despair and allow you a glimmer of hope. [No. 133, p.52]

Sounding like a cross between Explosions In The Sky and Blade Runner’s director cut, No Man’s Sky may be the backing track to an untenable make-believe world, but it’s also an example of the vast and powerful reach of well-placed series of notes. [No. 133, p.61]

Another low-key masterpiece wrapped in spooky twanging guitars, heartbroken harmonies, droning tempos and lyrics that often don't rhyme, delivered in Brett Sparks' deadpan, rumbling baritone. [No. 136, p.57]

Her soprano voice has held up pretty well, and her love for the natural and spirit world has only grown. But the production on I'm A Harmony by Wilco's Pat Sansone and composter Julia Holter combines '70s soft rock and '80s adult contemporary into a mix so vaporous it'll evaporate if you open the window. [No. 148, p.59]

Downright pretty. [No.88 p.57]

The best moments are soft and strange. "The Corner" is a fabulous piece of folk understatement and emotional ambiguity, while the brilliant "Freefall" showcases Branan's willingness to stretch his voice to odd, ugly places in the service of transcendence. [No.88 p.53]

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]

Get lost with them. [No. 102, p.54]

Overwhelmingly desolate. [#69, p.112]

Album number two pulls back from that musical and writerly intimacy [found on the debut] - if only slightly - trading a degree of specificity for a degree of universality, and adding just the faintest touch of gloss. [No. 85, p.57]

It can proudly stand alongside anything else the band has done. [No. 120, p.52]

There's enough here to keep diehard Coral heads satisfied, but a little more of the band's mercurial waywardness would've been welcome. [No. 130, p.55]

Hold On Now, Youngster... overflows with irony, pumping out bright indie-pop songs with titles such as “... And We Exhale And Roll Our Eyes In Unison” and “This Is How You Spell ‘HAHAHA, We Destroyed The Hopes And Dreams Of A Generation Of Faux-Romantics.’”

On Somersault, Beach Fossils continue to expand their sound, and the band gets better as it ventures further from home. [No. 143, p.53]

Even the most seriously depressed songs here have a lightness that's been missing in the past. [#60, p.111]

It stands as not only the most fully realized Portastatic album but as one that ought not be overshadowed by its creator's more well-known outlet. [#59, p.107]

While Cox’s narratives make little sense (much of the time, he’s not even singing so much as wailing wordlessly), the music is surprisingly accessible.

This is a record packed to the rafters. [No. 130, p.58]

An uneasy gamut of emotion imbues another exceptional Mountain Goats effort. [No. 92, p.51]

The accomplishment is immaculate, but what's harder to sort out is where the real Kelley Stoltz stands. [No. 147, p.61]

The constant fluidity here makes the album’s unpredictability seem grounded and cohesive instead of erratic.

Finds Wilco switching moods, tones, influences and instruments enough to suggest a band on a pub crawl in search of its winterteeth. [#64, p.112]

This music has been cunningly hand-crafted, despite the album's larger ensemble sound, and at times the songs come off like incantations. [No. 95, p.57]

When their voices blend, moving from two-part to three-part harmonies, the music really takes off. [No. 150, p.55]

The heady combination of orchestral maneuvers, spiritual posturing and drone-imbued psychedelia make this a seductive listening experience. [No. 85, p.56]

The results are both vintage QOTSA and something unnameable at the same time. [No. 146, p.58]

The songs sound fresh and spontaneous, gull of a delicate passion. [No. 137, p.53]

The jaunty-yet-subtle tunes sneak up on you slowly, so you don't notice O'Rourke's corrosively misanthropic lyrics until they're inextricably lodged in your head. [#53, p.86]

There's no shortage of pretty sounds, but it's too easy to drift into the reliable ebb and flow of this album's amniotic dynamic. [No. 98, p.54]

It sounds like a band getting down to business, adjusting its identity to account for downsizing while consolidating its many strengths. [No. 100, p.51]

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

The dramatic new music made by Bobby Womack - a true survivor - is an important listening session for any serious music lover. [No.89, p.60]

The variety of The Weather definitely offers some spice to lives. [No. 142, p.59]

Ray may be dabbling, but she does it well. [No. 106, p.58]

Pollie's sulky tenor is perfectly suited to these tales of heartache and lost affection, with muted backing tracks that intensify the tear-soaked scenarios that bring him solace. [No. 142, p.57]

Packed to the brim with moments of tonal and melodic transcendence. [#86, p.51]

[Lopatin] knows how to integrate plangent tones with somber piano chords to give the title track a plaintive, wistful quality, making sure to throw enough glitch in so that it doesn't get stranded on Windham Hill. [#82, p.59]

The Wilderness maintains the group's signature sound but imbues its widescreen soundscapes with a newfound patience. [No. 130, p.57]

It's a powerhouse collection. [No. 93, p.53]

It isn't very clear what the Rev is trying to get across, if anything at all. But it's a lovely listen all the same. [#51, p.100]

lude tUnE-yArDs’ Merril Garbus, who supplies an urgent, rhythmic vocal from on the spooky and stellar “Little Queen Of New Orleans.” Low Cut Connie teases these flourishes throughout Hi Honey, making for an album that’s both retro-minded and forward-thinking.

Boasting strength, durability and psychic stability on comeback Bloodsports, Suede shows its true dramatic worth on pensive, atmospheric exhibitions. [No. 98, p.57]

Sexsmith doesn't succumb to a single false move or note. [#51, p.112]

A near-perfect record to hold onto with all the might you can muster. [#58, p.103]

Branan oozes country cred. [No. 113, p.53]

The dominant strain is melodically powerful modern jazz where "Mvt.-1" and "Mvt.-III" are the triumphant highlights with joyous Paper Chase and Jittery Peanuts reference points. [No. 150, p.55]

Akron/Family is John Brown's body, the ghost of Tom Joad and the art-school spirit of Andy Warhol crammed into one ornate, mossy mausoleum. [#68, p.100]

As 1991 albums go, Out Of time in its own way is an era-defining as Nevermind, Loveless or Spiderland. [No. 137, p.58]

There's a lot of worthwhile material for her to perform here. [No. 100, p.59]

As lovely as that sounds, April loses momentum under such a reserved approach.

It's a captivating album, full of gradually shifting textures, meditative chants and brilliant guitar playing. [No. 106, p.59]

The shiny-happy '60s dream-pop has been augmented by riffier synths and a reverb-ed out pulse that scratches at the surface of the '80s with the entire package boasting stunning vocal performances by all involved. [No. 128, p.61]

She's no longer interested in the simple pleasures of immediate hooks. Instead, we get something more complex, challenging and provocative. [No. 143, p.54]

By the time MacLean gets around to a spoken-word revisit to an old haunt, "The Museum Of Fog," you're happily along for the surreal ride. [No. 146, p.55]

the "new" Neubauten is a stronger unit than it has been in the entire latter half of its existence.... Silence Is Sexy is brilliant, and Einsturzende Neubauten remains without peer. [#46, p.75]

I hear another kid in the time honored-tradition of Paul Weller between the Jam and the Style Council, eager to explore the musical universe without any adults telling him how to go about it. [No. 147, p.55]

The first two discs develop in a predictable but always rewarding and intelligently curated way.... The rest of the collection, by design or happy accident, chronicles the plummet and crash from visionary transcendence to the kind of dark Romanticism that the Bad Seeds were mining at about the same time in Australia. [No. 131, p.58]

Luckily for us, low points are few and less about quality control than redundancy. [No. 104, p.52]

These songs are all stripped-down gems by a great performer who's unselfconsciously brave--and moving from strength to strength. [No. 110, p.55]

The treatments are smartly contemporary, balancing Amidon's clawhammer banjo with Frisell's echoing electric guitar, backed by jazz-inflected bass and drums. [No. 114, p.53]

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

These new arrangements--mostly piano, trumpet, upright bass and pedal steel--lend the songs a deeper loneliness, a richer tragicomedy, as if they really belonged in a concert hall, and maybe they do. [No. 119, p.55]

The Power Of Negative Thinking is a weighty, absorbing, often hugely entertaining and occasionally thrilling curio. JAMC completists will love it, but four CDs’ worth?

A few demerits are warrented for pointless and distracting tempo changes in two of the album's most satisfying songs, but otherwise, the off-kilter, kichen-sink production works. [Fall 2007, p.101]

Overall, this is as disarming and wide-eyed a pop record as you’re likely to hear all year.

If Bondy's been searching for a suitable solo identity, Believers may be his charmed third time.[#81, p. 54]

Its performances over the past year have generated much anticipation for DIIV's debut full-length, but Oshin doesn't connect the same way. [No.89, p.53]

Probably one of the better pop recordings you'll hear in '03. [#58, p.98]

She's inverting the musicians' aging curve, each album more challenging and less easily digestible than the last. [No. 103, p.58]

The group maintains the signature controlled-chaos staples of its sound--big, dirty riffs underpinned by John Dwyer's trademark ghoulish vocal melodies--while broadening its already hyper-musical palate. [No. 109, p.55]

[A] gorgeous concert recording. [No. 111, p.54]

The active present Human Voice takes advantage of each of Dntel's original promises. [No. 114, p.54]

Put them all together and you've got a drink that goes down hard, with a potent bittersweetness distilled by a master. [No. 122, p.60]

Perfect finds a singular band doing its thing in the way that only it can. [No. 128, p.57]

Thematically, vocalist Michael Berdan mines the issues, burdens and neuroses for lyrical content that spans an overdriven line between unsettling experience and triumphant discharge. [No. 139, p.61]

While Prayer For Peace is the duo's seventh studio album, their rootsy sound remains more or less unchanged and identified. [No. 143, p.59]

The album's defiantly pop-punky first half touches on distance-challenged romance, self-care fails, siblinghood and her love/hate for the city of Perth--all with the characteristic witty, everygal charm. [No. 148, p.59]

This album, like its predecessor, is stunning. [Fall 2007, p.91]

He's all over the phrasing but never sloppily and always expeessively. [No. 141, p.52]

Some artists stimulate your brain, others tickle your senses. Matmos does both. [#50, p.101]

Their liveliest, most varied offering since their debut. [No. 128, p.57]

Hardly reserved for advanced listeners, End Times Undone is effortlessly familiar and fresh. [No. 112, p.57]

The coarse sonic atmosphere remains, but in nearly every other respect, the evolution is substantial. [No.95, p.56]

Kinks geeks will relish the autobiographical elements. [No. 142, p.54]

While his gloriously grizzled voice remains probably the most majestic instrument in the entire 21st-century retro-soul arsenal, and the Daptone mob mete out many more-than-serviceable grooves for him to rap atop, Changes offers no real shake-ups. [No. 130, p.55]

Standouts are so effortlessly and relentlessly infectious that it's impossible to think that Pujol didn't spend long nights spinning and internalizing Fleetwood Mac and Kinks LPs. [#88, p.59]

Evokes an industrial Enya soundtrack that would play on Frodo's laptop. [#67, p.112]

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]

Stay Gold is First Aid Kit's most lush and shimmering work to date. [No. 111, p.55]

Just start at track six, where the getting gets good. [#58, p.97]

The potential is here for Bettie Serveert to be marvelous.... But [singer Carol] Van Dijk's always-ominous lyricism, her need to play variations on the fallen and fallow, leaver her warm, tentative voice too vulnerable, too nervously open, too much like a desperate character among the bones of Lou Reed's once-famous dead. [#47, p.86]

Oneida's most cohesive and beautiful record to date. [#68, p.105]

It's far, far better than anyone ever had a right to expect. [No. 117, p.53]