Sounds like musicians so thoroughly bereft of ideas and energy that they've resorted to lifting melodies from their record collections wholesale while crossing their fingers for luck, hoping no one will notice the difference between inspiration and theft. [#59, p.88]

Everybody's A Good Dog is crisp, shimmering and bombastic. [No. 125, p.55]

It's hard to imagine the album's latent pacing and fragmented lyrical content piquing the interest of many outside of AnCo's hardcore fanbase, but it stands as a compelling step forward. [No. 145, p.61]

The result is a finely crafted collection of music that speaks volumes beyond its instrumental presentation. [No. 95, p.53]

Cliched lyrics and predictable musicality make every song here sound the same. [No. 125, p.53]

Smith is least persuasive on the latter [unexpectedly aggressive, blues-based power ballads] - her delicate voices sounds strident when fronting heavy electric guitars, and those scattered tracks break the spell that her more restrained songs cast easily. [No.89, p.59]

Their fourth full-length has the band members grabbing snippets of musical influence from all over the Pitchfork-approved map. [No. 96, p.54]

[Four has] the density that made Bloc's angular edge so full, rich and round in the first place. [No.90, p.54]

As usual, it's mostly successful as a mood piece. [No. 132, p.57]

There's always a surplus of good humor to carry us past the rough patches. [#75, p.98]

The album's many ragged parts [are wrapped] into a rocking and rollicking package. [No.86, p.52]

The Style Council-style blue-eyed soul and precise power pop of the debut now have some company that doesn't work, like the '70s Nashville countrypolitan exercise of the title track. [No. 100, p.51]

Some new ideas are welcome more than a decade into the Jersey outfit's career, but they could've been used to more exciting ends. [No. 150, p.59]

Golden Age mines that elusive ground between the way things were and the way they're remembered, set to hypnotic acoustic and electronic instrumentation. [No.99, p.55]

His conspicuous over-reliance on the same, tired lyrical themes does the record in, highlighting just how short on variety the LP is. [No. 92, p.55]

The best cuts here happen to be those hewing closer to Major Lazer's wake-and-bake dancehall origins. [No. 121, p.57]

[Her high-pitched vocals] restricts her melodies a bit too much for their own good, and some more dynamic performances near the album's end can't save it from fading in a poof of uneasy effervescence. [No. 95, p.55]

Not every track soars, but you have to admire the band's starry-eyed commitment to exploring the outer reaches of inner space. [No. 120, p.61]

Young makes these old, old songs vital. [No.88 p. 51]

Midnight might confuse (and lose) fans who have somehow missed the memo that Potter is creatively restless, but it's a boldly rhythmic step in a wild new direction. [No. 123, p.56]

The sound is more lush than usual and has clearly matured, but it does come across a lot like indie new age music. [No. 92, p.55]

The production has kept the focus exactly where it should be: on the longing of his voice... it's given him a deeper, haunting sense of quiet that strips these melodies to their essential, fragile beauty, delivered with joy, grace, and a wounded wisdom. [No.89 p.60]

For all its attempts at hipster currency, Evil Heat reveals the needle-shaped creative hole where the drugs used to be. [#57, p.102]

It glides along with the same humid grace that made 1997's If You're Feeling Sinister a bedsit classic.... wonderful, sweeping songs. [#46, p.68]

Suggests some arcane Canuck payment scheme in which lyricists are compensated by the syllable. [#70, p.106]

There's some filler in the form of ambient doodling, but JT's pop sensibilities peek through frequently enough that it's a fair trade. [No.88, p.55]

[On Spirits] Manhood yokes cosmic yearning to sublime tunecraft. [No.87, p.58]

Like everything these two touch, the results are hardly astonishing, but they're just as pleasant as you please. [No. 104, p.56]