Goldfrapp is the rare dance art-pop band that bleeds artistic integrity without looking back to the '80s for inspiration. [#71, p.98]

Casts [their] this-is-not-a-love-song songs in an ultraviolet, goth-shoegazer glow that stretches [their] glistening guitar ripples to Mogwai-like proportions. [#71, p.100]

The formula is familiar... but the results can be stranger than recent 'Lab fare. [#71, p.91]

Musically, Fox fulfills the wish list of fans who've waitied for new material since 2002's Blacklisted. [#71, p.89]

Never mind McBean's more successful other gig; Mountaintops don't get much blacker than this. [#71, p.108]

There are but three words to describe the sixth album from [Nightmares On Wax]... "repetition"... "derivative"... "listless."[#71, p.108]

Most of Skeleton is an endless rush, sounding like up-tempo versions of the Pixies' surf-rock choruses. [#71, p.93]

A taut, 40-minute affair with no filler. [#71, p.110]

Arab Strap's most affecting album yet. [#71, p.86]

Some of the most progressive tracks of its 20-year career. [#71, p.93]

We're left with a meandering, psychedelic buzz--not a dizzying, mind-expanding head-trip. [#71, p.102]

Sounds like the soundtrack for a post-apocalyptic street carnival. [#71, p.105]

Sure, the stories are worn and the whiskey is cut-rate, but the feeling is real. [#71, p.113]

Bitter Honey hits like a series of heart punches, and the quality of the writing is such that it doesn't get old even after multiple back-to-back spins. [#71, p.87]

THe duo has undeniable songstress skills, but it delivers its flawless melodies with the enthusiasm of a sewing circle. [#71, p.113]

There's a strange, practiced quality to the pop numbers that robs them of their buoyancy. [#71, p.87]

As he continues to spin funny, poignant, depressing and eminently melodic tales of woe, it's clear McCaughey is a staggering genius aging as superbly as a fine bottle of hooch. [#71, p.106]

For those inclined toward the indie end of things, there's plenty to like here, but there's also plenty that will inspire head-scratching or, worse yet, yawns. [#71, p.89]

It's as good a collection as Saint Etienne has ever released. [#71, p.111]

After making three great albums in a row, for Marshall to turn in a merely decent one seems like a letdown. [#71, p.88]

Like [Bright Eyes'] Conor Oberst, Sennett teeters between precious and wild. [#70, p.94]

On Makers, Votolato rarely digs deep enough to scar, and he tends to wander where he thinks inspiration might live instead of letting it find him. [#70, p.110]

Balances restraint and abandon in a near-perfect ritual tease. [#71, p.99]

Detrola, while still unpredictable, manages a certain unity. [#71, p.99]

Many of these tracks are simply products of their time. [#71, p.91]

Lasting impressions: Unlike sophomore clunker Room On Fire, you'll still be listening to First Impressions in two years and probably digging it even more. [#71, p.113]

Capacious, intimate and brimming with both whimsy and tension, Recording A Tape is what classical music might sound like from some advanced alien civilization. [#70, p.86]

On first listen, For The Season is pleasantly trippy. Listen closely, however, and it seems rather patchy. [#70, p.100]