As potent and timely as anything it released during the Reagan era. [#64, p.83]

Not only essential, Love And Distance is like nothing you've heard this year. [#64, p.95]

Make no mistake: You will dance. [#64, p.80]

It mostly drives down that most scenic of romantic-pop roads, honking and waving at fellow motorists Death Cab For Cutie. [#64, p.104]

Consistently fantastic. [#64, p.80]

The major distinction this time around is the eerily cheery delivery. [#64, p.110]

It sounds industrial on paper but comes off more like a hybrid of post-punk and noise pop. [#64, p.100]

Sounds like it was put together using spit, eyelash glue and sequins that fell off David Johansen's costumes all those years ago. [#64, p.90]

Kind of like the Cocteau Twins if Don Ho produced their albums. [#64, p.86]

The slowly picked guitar, the detailed songwriting, the harmonica and the intriguing, plain-spoken lyrics are all here. [#64, p.96]

By stripping away the symphonic, avant edge... [Gomez] loses much of what made it unique in the first place. [#64, p.96]

It's like somebody took all the great elements of FM anthems--the indelible choruses, the melodic tenacity and the rush of invincibility--and cut out the fat. [#64, p.110]

This newly minted prissiness... gives the twinkly keyboard and tangled guitar of "Oh Fine" and the mock-pomp circumstance of "Was It A Crime" a starry-eyed sensuality. [#64, p.92]

Molina's delicate vocals glide and dip, leaving Bjork earthbound on the shore and pea-green with envy. [#64, p.102]

His deft handling of the pop-song idiom makes even these smaller-scale songs soar. [#64, p.89]

There's something far too aloof about Again. [#64, p.84]

It's hard to imagine a better psychedelic-pop record this year than Satanic Panic In The Attic. [#64, p.102]

It's not only the supremely crafted song structures that give this album its classic feel but also the trickery-free production and Russo's slightly grayed tenor. [#64, p.107]

A gorgeous record brimming with unhurried songs. [#61, p.108]

Pop uses the strengths and weaknesses of his many guests to differing--and sometimes distracting--effect. [#61, p.88]

The first Wheat album that'll make you cringe through four or five listens before you can tolerate its artificial sweetness. [#61, p.111]

There's something undeniably mechanical about Room On Fire. [#61, p.107]

The tunes wear thin before the bluesman gimmick does. [#61, p.110]

On par, quality-wise, with the triumph that was last year's Stereo/Mono. [#61, p.110]

An unnervingly powerful, cathartic final statement. [#61, p.107]

A better record than the Shins' first--a sonically bolder production with fewer effects and more hooks per square inch than a flyrod factory. [#61, p.109]

A formidable, spooky album you can lose--or perhaps find--yourself in. [#61, p.97]

There are interesting little moments along the way that might lead to subtle adjustments in course. [#61, p.98]