Stale, vapid and generally awful. [No. 105, p.55]

Assured and assertive, Night Time, My Time plays like the darker, dirtier counterpart to fellow category-co-founders Haim. [No. 105, p.54]

Bejar's fans will clearly identify his unique musical fingerprint, and may have no clearer understanding of these songs than anything else in Destroyer's incomprehensively wonderful pop oeuvre in the King's English. [No. 105, p.54]

Though Calvi hardly ever breaks from her aesthetic on One Breath, she owns it so well that you'd be hard-pressed to complain. [No. 105, p.53]

The double-disc, dual volume album that results is one that finds the Canadian seven-piece sounding liberated, from stylistic and budgetary constraints both. [No. 105, p.52]

Despite valiant efforts at punking up "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" and "White Christmas," this is starting to sound like a bad joke. [No. 105, p.52]

Cupid Deluxe paints him as a producer and songwriter with massive potential that's only just begun to be realized. [No. 105, p.52]

Matangi ends up being worth the wait, which in this case is high praise indeed. [No. 105, p.58]

An overview with passionate, vibrant performances, Disconnected In New York City shows the band's history, talent and diversity with heartland rock, folk excursions, shuffling R&B and inevitable Latin rave-outs from many different points of its amazing career. [No. 104, p.58]

Luckily for us, low points are few and less about quality control than redundancy. [No. 104, p.52]

Erasure avoids the obvious pitfalls with its usual combination of intelligence and good humor. [No. 104, p.55]

It takes a sure-footed venture into morose country territory on the album's back half before Wot feels like a departure. [No. 104, p.55]

Folly finds KOD darker and statelier than ever. [No. 104, p.57]

There's nothing here that doesn't feel like a weaker version of what he's already accomplished as a Stroke. Or as a solo artists for that matter. [No. 104, p.57]

It doesn't feel resolved by the unexpectedly bone-chilling ending, beckoning another listen. [No. 104, p.59]

It's a soul-stirring collection of Real Ramona/University-grade musical mini-masterpieces accompanied by lyrical prose vignettes exuding the same nimble friskiness and wry, subversive brilliance that characterized Hersh's fantastic 2010 memoir Rat Girl. [No. 104, 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]

Gelb's voice remains sweet as sandpaper, setting a tone that's elegiac, lyrical and lovingly enigmatic. [No. 104, p.55]

Sonically, it's all pretty enough, but the songs rely too much on goofy valentines and cliches. [No. 104, p.55]

The pacing is only slightly faster than a brontosaurus in a tar pit, each track riding on a spine of thick lumbering guitar. [No. 104, p.54]

Non-converts will probably find it all a little too overtly stylized, but there's no questioning the singer's focus and dedication, and it's a worthy addition to the Rowland legend. [No. 104, p.54]

More often than not throughout the careening Bitter Rivals, there's clarity where there was disturbance, melody where there was once dissonance, and more nuanced vocal hooks and ditzy sonic flips than appeared on Sleigh Bells' first two records combined. [No. 104, p.51]

This portable section of the Library of Congress plays as well as it reads. [No. 104, p.56]

Glow & Behold feels like a safe play. [No. 104, p.60]

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]

Somewhere beautiful documents a fantastic 20-song set by this long-adored, seminal New Zealand band that makes you wish you'd been invited to the bash. [No. 104, p.53]

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

It's the sound of Griffin at an intriguing crossroads. [No. 104, p.56]