There are seeds of talent in Phox, but this album doesn't let the band flourish. [No. 111, p.59]

White's aesthetic, as always, is grounded in the immediate and the visceral, and Lazaretto rocks. [No. 111, p.60]

An uneven record, though one that may ultimately prove a warm-up for a more interesting one. [No. 111, p.61]

In plain but very powerful terms, it's one of the smartest albums ever released. [No. 111, p.61]

Taylor is meditative in both sound and thought, using slow, simple arrangements in the service of a tender melancholy that grows more palpable as Await Barbarians floats along. [No. 111, p.61]

There are plenty of vocal effects and a seductive use of harmonies, but they're seldom more than pleasant. [No. 111, p.61]

A tasteful restraint envelops the album, continuing the musical maturation of both its performer and producer. [No. 111, p.61]

Most of these 10 songs in 40 minutes are lovely, peaking on one of her sexiest tunes, crunchy wedding toast "Love U 4ever." [No. 111, p.51]

This album sounds nothing like the stuff that got you into Slow Club in the first place. Approach tipsy and with caution. [No. 111, p.61]

Take it all in, and you'll be carried away. [No. 111, p.59]

The good news is that there's a new burst of energy on the rave-ups. [No. 111, p.59]

Honeyblood has plenty of possibilities, and a ton of potential. But it's also pretty darn potent already. [No. 111, p.55]

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

Though No Coast possesses its vivifying moments. It's pretty clear not all the organs made it back after the post-Frame And Canvas autopsy. [No. 111, p.52]

Their new album A Thousand Thoughts, featuring mostly unreleased tracks of music from 14 countries, does suggest that in this expanded universe Kronos have come to resemble sentimental tourists rather then intrepid explorers. [May 2014, p.65]

Circulatory System is once again a soft pharmaceutical machine on Mosaics. [No. 110, p.53]

The comforting melodies offset Toth's poetic wordplay, shining a light on lyrics that are alternately comforting and disturbing. [No. 110, p.61]

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

[The album is] somewhere between his recent acid house work as Speed Dealer Moms and his dramatic collaborations with Omar Rodriguez-Lopez and Wu-Tang acolytes Black Knights--and pretty much everything he's done to date. [No. 110, p.55]

Amos delivers another set of stirring songs tempered and emboldened by years of experience. [No. 110, p.53]

Turn Blue is a soft pack of post-coital smokes, and Marlboro Lights 100's at that. [No. 110, p.51]

Sorry earned White Lung an audience; on Deep Fantasy, the band commands it. [No. 110, p.61]

Much of Smoke Fairies is the sound of a band embracing fatter orchestration and fuller arrangements on virtually every cut. [No. 110, p.61]

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

Rod and Gab's fifth album is bereft of personality. [No. 110, p.59]

Yes, some of these are very stupid songs.... And like Doolittle, there are great songs here. [No. 110, p.58]

Producer Greg Kurstin ensures a familiarly sparkly synth-pop sheen throughout. [No. 110, p.52]

This Machine Kills Artists is definitely lengthier than need be, but if this album has an intended accomplishment, it's further illustrating the expanding range of Osborne's songwriting abilities. [No. 110, p.59]