What had been a fascinating display of aural minimalism has morphed into a haphazard, ill-advised mess. [#75, p.96]

An emphasis on instrumentals is intriguing, but they're the pleasantries you'd fear. All are pretty in a disconnected, band-that-hasn't-released-new-music-in-13-years way. [No. 147, p.58]

This batch of 11 half-baked songs is whiny, lifeless and not even close to stimulating. [#60, p.106]

Life On A String also reveals the tedious aspects of Anderson's muse. [#51, p.82]

Overdrive showcases barer instrumentations and peeled-back song structures. [#110, p.59]

The tunes wear thin before the bluesman gimmick does. [#61, p.110]

It's a record best described as 13ghosts' illegitimate lovechild with Captain beefheart. [No. 133, p.57]

Hi Beams has style to burn, colorful as a candy store and shiny as new-molded plastic. [No. 97, p.56]

The flouncing, bouncy "Winner" is just the most hateful of the bunch, with insipid lyrics, overly bright production and a vocal line so pale it's opaque. "Hold On" and "Give It A Go" come damn near close to that level of dread. Luckily, though, those are the album's sole missteps. [No.91 p.58]

At times reminiscent of the Lilys' Better Can't Make Your Life Better, Snowdonia works within formula, but it does so with aplomb. [No. 139, p.61]

There's a load of fuzzy power chords ruling these tunes, but they're smoothed out and nudged into the background, allowing a very capable Cosentino to take her rightful place at the front of the mix. [No. 104, p.52]

Evocative bursts of noise and youth abound everywhere, and there's absolutely no reason not to succumb to them. [No.89, p.59]

The album preserves--even perfects--the spirit of its delirious debut, while fashioning something even bigger: brighter, tighter, better, more. [No. 95, p.55]

Many of these tracks are simply products of their time. [#71, p.91]

The music is as icy and snow-covered as from whence it came. [No. 95, p.53]

La Maison offers a glimpse into the Casadys' strange, spooky world; Noah's Ark shows them taking tentative, often intriguing steps outside of it. [#69, p.91]

Their latest is another reliably pleasant, if inconsequential offering. [No. 106, p.52]

Much of this album comes surprisingly close to the woozy heights scaled by Barat's old gang--but not quite close enough because, if there are criticisms here, it's that there's too little light and shade. [No. 117, p.52]

Fully realized tracks such as "Affection" and the peppy "I'm A Vampire" are so fetching that they eclipse the rest of Eternal Youth, which is padded with brief, blippy non-songs and is often top-heavy with (literal) bells and whistles. [#56, p.93]

It's drowsy, but drowsy with one cup of coffee in it. [#68, p.108]

Beyond often rings with the bumbling awkwardness of a band taking itself too seriously for the first time. [No. 108, p.55]

Tape Loops comes off more like a utilitarian exercise in minimalism than a proper solo album from one of the most celebrated producers of the past 20 years. [No. 126, p.58]

Numsuwankijkul recruited a new group of players for Over There That Way, and the decision pays off handsomely; this is a much more introspective, vulnerable album that benefits from a lighter touch. [No. 132, p.55]

If you're not fanatical about the racket created by unfathomable guitar noise, you'll find songs on Motion Set overly long and veering frequently toward incomprehensible. [No. 138, p.57]

Paradise still sounds like the work sf an artist turning her face back, if somewhat slowly, toward the sunlight. [No. 142, p.55]

From The Valley To The Stars has some fine moments, but it looks awfully unflattering in the light of its less distracted and infinitely sharper predecessor. [Summer 2008, p.102]

The lack of focus and discernible melodies keeps CANT from being anything more than an interesting diversion. [#81, p. 53]

[A] promising set of laptop balladry, ambient Brian Eno classicism and even an attempt at shifty electro-funk. [#73, p.85]