One off-putting aspect: a vague sense of cocky over-cleverness. [Jun 2006, p.108]

Her's a downhome collection that's low on dBs but as impactful as anything he's done. [May 2011, p.105]

There's even more of a streamlined feeling to Seeds.... but there's precious little which surprises. [Dec 2014, p.93]

Its music holds a refreshingly naive (if ridiculous) charm. [Jun 2006, p.110]

There isn't quite as much gleeful taboo-baiting on this second set, as they dig further and harder into the absurdity of being a young woman in America, and still make it catchy and fun as well as angry and melancholy. [Jun 2015, p.93]

An album that, by turns, is lacerating and seductive. [Sep 2006, p.106]

Even playing it straight, Houck produces songs that skitter round your peripheral vision, hide in the back of your mind, their outlaw mental state playing hide-and-seek behind the classic rock curtains. [June 2010, p. 90]

A brave, inspired step into the unknown. [Nov 2014, p.100]

Big, brave and laudably odd it is, then. [Oct 2017, p.93]

There are nods to Scissor Sisters with some honky-tonk disco and references to the demi-monde. But there are also extraordinary tracks of looped beats and grainy heartbreak. [Oct 2018, p.84]

If only all pop music could be this smart and soulful. [Dec 2006, p.106]

An album that's lighter on its feet than its closest relation, When I Was Cruel. Jagged but innovative and angry but wry. [Dec 2020, p.86]

Sculptor yields centre-stage to Randell's haiku-like celebrations of human spirit and suburban transcendence. [Aug 2018, p.94]

Lucinda Williams has labelled Regan "his generation's answer to Bob Dylan," and on this evidence, that doesn't feel like hyperbole. [Feb 2013, p.90]

Teardo's pizzicato arrangements lend Bargeld's melodic sprechgesang monologues a profoundly sinister undertow. [Aug 2013, p.90]

This is real chase-the-devil-out revival with Reed's cut-throat scream and bluesy guitar playing pinned to an anything-goes-in-the-name-of-the-spirit backbeat. [Jul 2016, p.90]

Occasionally, delicate folktronica beauty mixes dreamy acoustic music with intense, layered electronics, while at others, the ambient wash leaves so little to focus on it's hard not to wonder if they didn't simply fall asleep in the studio. [Apr 2018, p.95]

Storm Damage's jazz-trio-do-singer-songwriter-ish arrangements are meticulous in their musicality, but the "personal anguish and political anger" which fired this album make for an intense, if rewarding listen. [Mar 2020, p.92]

These are wonderfully built earworms here, but callow writing sometimes morphs them into mere infections. [Apr 2021, p.82]

Here, Marc Almond's slightly-too sharp voice and Dave Ball's compendium of antique synth tricks are once again a perfect pop match. [Jul 2022, p.93]

The wild times end on a poignant, giddy high with Parful - a house-y banger raving about everyday hedonism transcending sectarian violence - an irresistible distillation of Kneecap's peacetime party music. [Jul 2024, p.94]

All in all, it's pretty much perfect. [Jul 2003, p.100]

The results are engaging without quite reaching flashover.

A gem. [Nov 2004, p.98]

The songs are a mite pretentious. [Sep 2004, p.99]

It's good to hear that force-of-nature voice again. [Dec 2012, p.96]

Its wintery charms and enervated intrigue are hard to deny. [Feb 2019, p.90]

The longueurs of the album's latter half rob the long-player of true classic potential, but the rehearsal room banter and stripped-back demos will pique fans' interest. [Jan 2019, p.105]