Different Every Time is a two-CD overview illuminating Wyatt's strengths as a musician, politically outspoken performer, singer, bandmate, leader and composer. [No. 116, p.61]

Both [At Saint Thomas the Apostle Harlem and All The Way] elicit a simultaneous sense of terror and wonder as to what demons are flowing through her bloodstream and how she's managed to harness them for the power of artistic good. [No. 141, p.57]

Song after song hurts in that oh-so-right way. [#54, p.89]

The Moon And The Village is another subtle charmer. [No. 149, p.57]

Both [At Saint Thomas the Apostle Harlem and All The Way] elicit a simultaneous sense of terror and wonder as to what demons are flowing through her bloodstream and how she's managed to harness them for the power of artistic good. [No. 141, p.57]

Ultimately attains genuine staying power. [#68, p.108]

Only confirms the Belle And Sebastian comparisons this Australian band has endured throughout its seven-album career. [#69, p.100]

Income inequality and class warfare, intolerance and love--arguably the heaviest subject of all--are dealt with firmly and frankly, couched in Phillipps' timeless, jangly melodies. [No. 126, p.52]

Boot! goes back-to-basics in terms of lineup and material, but sounds heavier than ever. [No. 105, p.59]

Organically crafts sounds that are reminiscent and yet uniquely its own. [No. 141, p.57]

It's a darker, more nuanced album, and Jones, now 37, sings with more depth and soul than she did in her youth. [No. 136, p.54]

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

I Am A Problem still explores texture and discomfort like Wolf Eyes always has, but now have riffs. [No. 126, p.60]

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

It certainly stands among his best. [No. 105, p.60]

My Bloody Underground is yet another experience of the stripe only Newcombe can sculpt. [Summer 2008, p.99]

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]

Think a minimalist A Tribe Called Quest. [#60, p.110]

They whip out churning rock tunes with burning guitars and solid hooks, switch things up with softer, melodic ballads, and evoke the glory days of Southern rock with impressive ease. [No. 136, p.53]

Songs To Play sounds musically assured, but it's that double-edged sense of humor that proves that Forster is truly back. [No. 124, p.54]

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

Though only mildly collaborative, II us just as thrilling as many of Segall's finest works. [No. 126, p.57]

A record that blows up like a supernova and runs the dinner-jacket nobility of its predecessor through a wood chipper. [#59, p.96]

These are brooding songs of love and loss and life, music for gown-ups in the best possible way, music for people who've lived. [No. 126, p.57]

It's full of loose sing-alongs, drunken chants and spooky ballads; of apocalypse, synicism and Satanism; of a jaded worldview that joyfully sees everything as --in the words of the opening track--"Dark dark dark." [Fall 2007, p.102]

Be Small connotes acceptance of the intimacy Temple can't seem to breach. [No. 126, p.57]

Master producer J. Robbins deserves some credit for the band's audibly broadened horizons. [No. 94, p.60]