Karlsson and Winnberg's focus on gentle, warm sonic tones and catchy hooks should reassure fans of tracks like "Animal" and "Burial" that everything is under control. [No. 85, p.57]

The Helio Sequence has pared down its sound and vision without losing a molecule of its well-defined identity. [No. 121, p.52]

WWPJ returns to the moody and energetic sound of its debut with In The Pit of the Stomache, a 10-song set that bristles with raw post-punk power while pulsing with pop subtlety. [#81, p. 59]

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]

Lion is Murphy's most enraged, engaged and engaging album. [No. 110, p.57]

There's nothing wrong with punching the clock when the results ate so dependably swoony. [No. 111, p.53]

Third World Pyramid, like its recent predecessors, is yet another gorgeous, quasi-psychedelic slice of the band's kaleidoscope-eyes popcraft. [No. 138, p.53]

An eight-song album that flounders too much in mid-tempo purgatory. [No. 107, p.55]

Jenkins continues his adroitness at transforming disparate juxtapositions of R2-D2 blips and bloops, deep bass drops into sonic sculptures that are futuristically dense and engagingly hip-shaking. [No. 120, p.61]

This half-hour slab of very high-energy punk would be cathartic if its root darkness weren't so persistently unsettling. [No. 98, p.60]

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 effect is rather like Post-Super ae Boredoms, which is a great sound to achieve, but they only nail it sporadically. [No. 106, p.55]

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

Velocifero is a mere knob's turn toward the excellence the band still seems to be working toward. [Summer 2008, p.107]

Songs that actually shoot for happy tend to slide into saccharine. [#69, p.96]

The whole album rocks. [#53, p.74]

Bug's poetry remains the stuff of nightmares, but the band's splayed-nerve shtick is wearing thin. [No. 101, p.59]

The Chems remain committed to their singular vision, still plying those swooning synths, continuing to breathe new life from the echoes. [No. 123, p.55]

A great, if subtle, step forward. [No. 131, p.55]

Full of ideas as well as joyful energy. [#68, p.86]

Consider the jarring Highway Songs a retrenchment in the wake of its creator's publicly nightmarish 2015: the album as spirit quest, as bridge. [No. 137, p.59]

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

With Hitch, the Joy Formidable has expanded its sonic palette and subsequently zeroed in on its ultimate sound. [No. 130, p.57]

[The final track Love Is Love] has the sprightly energy that's missing on most of the record. [No. 143, p.61]

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

["Are We Arc" is] a mid-album highlight to an otherwise mostly forgettable sophomore effort. [No. 107, p.59]

His most emotionally expansive record. [#59, p.101]

It's as if SDRE was trying to make every album it thought Rush should have cut after Moving Pictures - simultaneously dark, textural, riff-based and cliche-free, yet filled with the sort of sweeping gestures and lofty arrangements you usually find in vintage prog.