Great production flourishes dominate, with horns and steady percussion rising out of the mix to provide the listener with an enveloping atmosphere. [No.87, p.53]

It All Starts With One's songs all deal with love's discontents, and their desperate beauty should make a hit with those who like to wallow in desperation and unhappiness. [No.87, p.52]

Music to take drugs to. [No.87, p.52]

An even more esoteric, and yet - oddly enough - more accessible record than her debut. [No.87, p. 51]

When the record works, it's unarguably charming. [#86, p.54]

Unlike a deadmau5 or Skrillex, Van Dyk can only do his one style, and by the time the album is two-thirds over, you're already ready for him to mix out. [#86, p.59]

The Pilgrimage is a much busier, more dynamic effort than its predecessor; one that never flails in its considerable ambition, but, rather, simply continues driving forward, all menace and swagger. [No.86, p.56]

He comes into his own on Plateau Vision. [#86, p.55]

[It sounds] little more than controlled and reserved stabs at Lower East Side new/no-wave of early talking Heads, Social Climbers and Blondie driven by some uppity Britpop rhythms. [#86, p.54]

The album's many ragged parts [are wrapped] into a rocking and rollicking package. [No.86, p.52]

Though it's but a collection of outtakes and rarities, June 2009 plays like much more than just that, making for a fitting precursor to Causers' light, breezy textures and the grooving forest-lounge of this year's Underneath the Pine.

Van Dyk can only do one style, and by the time the album is two=thirds over, you're already ready for him to mix out. [#86, p.59]

Better still is hearing Byrne's mincing yelp and Veloso's flickering vocals as one entity as it winds its way weirdly through the calm breezes of Talking Heads' "Heaven" as well as a small bunch of flowery nu-brazilian classics and cuts penned by both composers. [#86, p.59]

To make the perfect album, we suppose, that elusive thing that the beauteous hooks on "The Light of F=Day" and "Met Your Match" certainly makes strides toward. [#86, p.53]

Mouseman is essentially another 17 tracks for completists hankering to mine the singer's ceaseless compendium of songs in search of new nuggets. [#85, p.58]

Gab's good-natured hustle is commendable. [#85, p.55]

It's hard to recall an album so invitingly unfamiliar, so beguilingly hard to parse, so full of "wait, what was that?" moments... since the first Books album. [No.86, p.61]

A mix of ping-ponging bangers ("Hi," "Born To Suffer"), touching, presumed-true stories ("Joey's Song," "The Oldness") and two skip-now shockers dedicated to monstrous worthlessness ("I Luv Abortion," "Black Drum Machine") [No.86, p.60]

Even album highlights "The Malkin Jewel" and the almost serene "Vedamalady" aren't likely to do much more than appease the group's most ardent fans. [No.86, p.60]

At his best, Ward's always walked a fine line between eloquence and vagueness, hope and disappointment. It's been a great source of tension, and he does that about half the time here. [No.86, p.59]

Original Distance isn't, but it's a great hang.

Features the same lyrical spirit and disjointed soul rhythms [as labelmate, Shabazz Palaces.] [No.86, p.58]

The LP works, but just barely... [Roberts] doesn't always mesh well with Morrison's cheerful singing. [No.86, p.57]

Meatier than the handful of singles and EPs that have boosted the Tanlines name to date. [No. 86, p.58]

The 62-year old Springsteen sounds every bit the angry, empathetic and impassioned social commentator he was on post-Y2K rockers like The Rising and Magic. [No.86, p.57]

Paternoster invites you to get ugly and rotten with her like it's a call to arms. [No.86, p.57]

A vibrant, dubbed-out dance album that rises above the wobble-obsessed rabble. [No.86, p.57]

[Rossen] passes on Grizzly Bear and Department of Eagles' carefully manicured sprawl in favor of focus and immediacy. [No.86, p.57]