It's terrifying... yet also weirdly gorgeous and enlivening. [No. 123, p.57]

Lovers Know is an unexpected turn that is saved by the passion of the performer behind it. [No. 123, p.61]

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]

Cheap nostalgia and cynicism be damned. They still sound--on this evidence at least--utterly majestic.

This is a sterling document well worth revisiting. [No. 123, p.59]

Too much of Everybody's Coming Down limps along on wounded extremities, with quirky cleverness displaced in favor of sloppy indie-rock tropes that answer the eternal question about what Ween would sound like minus a sense of adventure. [No. 123, p.59]

All Around Us is moody, pretty and spooky-cool. [No. 123, p.59]

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]

What elevates Meridian above the throngs of similar abstract, mod-synth ambient records are the same sensibilities that carried albums like Dreamless Sleep, even if the tools are different this time around. Tracks that, for the most part, sound formless--never careless. [No. 121, p.53]

The long held notion of Stone and Co. as purveyors of funky pop (or poppy funk) touched by harmonic roar of choral vocals and the lyricism of sociopolitical consciousness is all here. [No. 122, p.61]

You can feel Bridwell's effort, while Beam's casual understatement is entrancing. [No. 122, p.51]

All four of these tracks succeed in holding the listener's attention throughout. [No. 122, p.57]

The stylistic range is surprisingly broad and definitely campy. [No. 122, p.61]

EZTV's debut is unassuming, and impressively so. [No. 122, p.55]

There isn't a wasted moment in The High Country's 26 minutes, proving that brevity is the soul of pop/rock, as well as wit. [No. 122, p.61]

This is a soul singer's album all the way.... And it's a happy throwback in other ways, too. [No. 122, p.57]

There's not a lot of post-punk, no-wave or noise to be found here, but more so a very topical sound for the right now. [No. 122, p.53]

The genre's sonic touchstones are still mostly intact here, but More Faithful is full of unexpected turns. [No. 122, p.59]

The Orb's relentless, yet somehow unaggressive dance beats have a timeless quality that endures beyond any specific electronic trends, and its muse remains undamaged by time and space. [No. 122, p.59]

The Monsanto Years is another head-scratcher of an album. [No. 122, p.61]

Put them all together and you've got a drink that goes down hard, with a potent bittersweetness distilled by a master. [No. 122, p.60]

It's all beautifully crafted, though very sad. [No. 122, p.53]

Freedom ultimately finds cohesion in Refused's continuing mission to punish your ears, move your feet and rage against the Man. [No. 122, p.58]

The relationship songs are distressingly generic; she backpedals on her "edgy" (for country) envelope-pushing; and she sings about what's she's not. [No. 122, p.57]

Even as it completely eschews Mohawke's maximalist, hyperkinetic style of old for a newfound soft side, Lantern registers as a limp, populist gesture for how ham-fistedly it attempts to reconcile the two. [No. 122, p.57]

This laudable open-mindedness [to try anything] may have finally backfired. [No. 122, p.55]

The album's back half tones it down a bit, though the overarching tropical themes get a bit extreme. [No. 122, p.55]

It's a loosely coherent mood piece that, despite (mostly) maintaining a murky, somnambulant vibe, nevertheless leapfrogs around an impressive scrapheap of refurbished ideas. [No. 122, p.55]