Though I generally partake in the Kool-Aid, some of Pollard’s post-GBV stuff has admittedly either gone over my head or missed the sweet spot. Brown Submarine’s pleasures, however, are inarguable.

An enchanting collection teeming with well-crafted hooks and fiery passion unheard since the epic, under-appreciated Faith and Courage a decade ago. [No. 85, p.56]

Taken in one sitting, Our Thickness is just wearying. [#68, p.110]

Having carved out a signature sound from the start, Local Natives continue to sound both fresh and familiar. [No. 136, p.57]

His latest EP pushes his glossy pop inclinations even further; the five tracks are quick and sweet, gussied up with quirky instrumentation. [#82, p.57]

Wire needs more of the barbed wit and brute anger that has enabled the band's best post-2000 work stand up to its iconic '70s recordings. [No. 120, p.60]

Their voices blend together beautifully. [No. 145, p.57]

Throughout, McCombs hits a brilliantly unpredictable songwriting stride. [No. 103, p.57]

At his best, Ward's always walked a fine line between eloquence and vagueness, hope and disappointment. It's been a great source of tension, and he does that about half the time here. [No.86, p.59]

The trio still churns as mixing hot butter with bourbon and gargling gasoline [No.91 p.59]

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

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

He slouches in with "Sisters" and begins his album-long teetering on the brink of affectation, sounding like a teenager with restratint. [#59, p.89]

There are great moments that grasp for--and sometimes reach--the bombastic ground between Radiohead's pop days and Sunny Day Real Estate's proggier side; then there are long stretches that fail to push any buttons at all. [#59, p.90]

An occasionally rewarding but often confusing listen. [#64, p.108]

A collection of sandblasted songs that redefines its sound and pegs Ladybug as something other than '60s pop purists. [#61, p.101]

Serene, synthetic drones and sparse, resonate bass give the music body, and enthusiastically applied echo makes these instrumentals as dizzying as a vintage Lee Perry mix. [No. 98, p.58]

The 10 tunes evoke nothing but a good, unusually brisk-feeling and '70s-like Luna record. [No. 147, p.58]

The music's trickiness never seems gratuitous, though, because the changes in direction correspond to a lyrical stance that articulates the struggle to figure out what's constant in a world of change. [No. 131, p.59]

Bejar's fans will clearly identify his unique musical fingerprint, and may have no clearer understanding of these songs than anything else in Destroyer's incomprehensively wonderful pop oeuvre in the King's English. [No. 105, p.54]

Sometimes the pace renders parts of the LP a slow-bore, but there's still enough effective moody dynamics to giver 'er a spin. [No.92 p.56]

Haden can find that sweet, glacial pace that makes a song seem both inevitable and important. But his deliberate delivery of lines such as "Oh the Depression, it ruined us, it ruined us, it ruined us" can be distracting and turn songs into history lessons. [No. 132, p.59]

Choir Of The Mind is more often introspective and engrossing. [No. 146, p.57]

Best experienced in depressed darkness while contemplating your existence. [No. 117., p.59]

Black Moon Spell is King Tuff's glammiest work yet, echoing the swagger of the New York Dolls and the sexy, stoned vocal styling of Marc Bolan. But it still rocks. [No. 114, p.57]

Daughter OF Everything fits neatly alongside recent work from guys like Mikal Cronin and Ty Segall, and untethered garage rock like this never goes out of style. [No. 107, p.61]

Morris sounds even more infuriated than he did 34 years ago on Black Flag's Nervous Breakdown. [No.87 p.57]

Stealing Sheep could have easily made another weird art album, and it would have been great; instead, it made a weird pop album, and it's a bold step into a bigger world. [No. 119, p.61]