The back half gets slower, darker and weirder--integral ingredients all. But there isn't one track here that stands out from the rest. [No. 118, p.59]

A super-catchy mix of stadium-rock bombast and punk simplicity. [No.90, p.57]

There are more than enough licks to compensate when that tendency [to sound whiny or emo-ish] gets a little overwhelming. [No.91, p.57]

Nothing here will supplant Smith's own definitive versions, but fans of the Avett Brothers, of Mayfield, and, indeed, of Smith will find plenty to love in this affectionate and unassuming album. [No. 118, p.53]

This is a valiant and enjoyable varied attempt, by a seriously stacked cast of contributors. [No. 113, p.61]

Hexadic too often misses the point by honing in on formlessness and esoteric explanations instead of solid consistency. [No. 117, p.61]

He pushes himself into unfamiliar, often sonically jarring new terrain. [#73, p.112]

The bulk of the album feels much more controlled, and though it's technically accomplished record--as well it might be given the lineup--there's more brain than heart in the final mix. [No. 104, p.60]

Mercury Rev has talked about reinvention and veering away from its comfort zone, which is only to be commended, but the band has really fallen flat on its face here.

The band has ripped elements from early L.A. hardcore, '90s powerviolence and screamo, and it wields this arsenal of influences to deliver big, sharp hooks. [No. 93, p.59]

Though it won't be every listener's groove, fans of baroque pop's lush overreach will find a lot to enjoy. [No. 128, p.59]

Hot Cakes isn't really trying to be funny so much as just plain fun. And it is. [No.90, p.55]

Speed rock, Gretsch guitar thunder and frontman heroics give this rockabilly cat his claws. [#54, p.102]

A must-have addition to already almost perfect catalog. [No. 110, p.55]

Espinoza and Murray return from a four-year hiatus in fine form. [No. 93, p.54]

Very clearly the work of art-school kids who use their skills for creating alluring visuals to craft equally enticing music. [No. 85, p.56]

Acoustic proves, once and for all, that BOH really is just a straight-up folk/rock band--and a pretty great one, too. [No. 107, p.53]

Most squarely accessible record to date, and easily the most pop album to come from an alumnus of Sacred Bones. [No. 114, p.61]

The most psychedelic moments on the album come during the long instrumental fades on tunes like "Silence Can Say So Much," "Cast The First Stone" and "Love Is Like A Spinning Wheel," but the middy instrumentals mix often mashes the sounds together into an indistinguishable pulsation of spacey sci-fi noise. [No. 137, p.55]

While Poison Ivy's impressive design become shtick after a while, it's nevertheless adorable. [Fall 2007, p.105]

Red Fang soon settles into a comfortable cruising speed, with a devotion to mid-tempo exceeded only by Slayer's commitment to thrash. [No. 136, p.61]

More often the singing is submerged in the mix, making it impossible to understand the dreamy wordplay that makes Oelsner's lyrics so memorable. [No. 145, p.59]

Mentor Tormentor may be Earlmart's best album. But it still falls short of greatness, hamstrung by songwriting and production moves that have clearly become the band's comfort zone. [Fall 2007, p.93]

The Avett Brothers are thankfully more interested in contemporary relevance than lockstep allegiance to dusty history. [No. 104, p.52]

Arcade Fire's tightest and tersest album since 2004's Funeral is by far its least ambitious, and the band is cool to riff on this. [No. 145, p.53]

When the melodies are too thin to support their own emotional weight, all the string quartets in the world can't rescue them, and I find myself missing that old pulsing bass, those swirling drums and the sheer fabulousness that made the original versions so liberating. [No. 93, p.61]

It is, for the most part, a distant shadow of former glories. [No. 98, p.56]

What the album lacks in diversity and lyrical depth it more than makes up for with Technicolor-daydream choruses. [#75, p.98]