In pursuing the anarchic, joyous mash-up of their debut Remedy to its twisted conclusion, Basement Jaxx find themselves in androgynous, genre-bending territory that is Prince-ly in spirit even when it isn’t in sound.

An album which makes his previous excesses seem conservative.... Dazzling though this bombardment is, it's a draining experience. [Jul 2001, p.97]

An interestingly mixed-up album. [Sep 2001, p.114]

It's a mellow, meditative and mid-paced work... TIB is still a strong record, which fans will grow to enjoy immensely. [Jul 2001, p.94]

If all you want to do is throw the same funky shapes you threw a decade ago, this long-awaited outing will more than suffice. Otherwise, it's the same old same old. [Jul 2001, p.114]

On first listen Poses feels diffuse and unfocused. [Jul 2001, p.108]

There's no easy niche in which you can place this new statement: like Dylan's Time Out Of Mind, it ventures into a doomy, mythological area, where the directions are muddied and the heartbreak is total. [Jul 2001, p.98]

Deliriously provocative, Amnesiac is as splendidly other and awkward as its sister album. [Jul 2001, p.104]

The album might almost be a study in stretching the limits of silliness, cliche and old-school rock'n'roll unreconstruction... [Jul 2001, p.114]

But once you settle into its desolate vista – and, believe me, it’ll take a few plays – 10,000 Hz Legend becomes just as addictive as its ancestor.

The mind-boggling intricacies and moody, broody sound-sculpting on tracks like Pen Expers find Autechre zooming off, leaving their followers eating cosmic dust. [May 2001, p.110]

The former Talking Head has rarely sounded so vital.

A slightly awkward but ambitious beginning.

Overall, the pickings are too thin for a band of their capabilities.

If beauty and ambition be the defining values of that album title concept, they're served up here in spades.

Blissed out, beautiful... and quite probably bonkers, with Dilate Bardo Pond seem intent on redrawing their personal cosmos's final frontiers yet again. [May 2001, p.100]

As one MOJO staffer commented, "This sounds like I'm trapped inside a damaged mechanical brain." Yes, it's that good. [May 2001, p.116]

The record is such a sprawling, unwieldy beast that the instrumental hooks take time to emerge.

A string quartet, reverby backing vocals, and Kraut keys crowd the songs like weeds strangling a once hearty plant. [May 2001, p.104]

Rarely has any modern band made The Difficult Third Album sound so breezy... [May 2001, p.96]

Incredibly, No More Shall We Part is as urgent and vital as Cave has ever been.... Raging and delicate, complex as faith and simple as a goodnight kiss, it is an incredible summation of a singular career.

All BRMC really have in common with The Strokes is hype and haircuts, but their music lives up to both. [Feb 2002, p.92]

As a singer, the South Dakota-born, Ontario and Illinois-raised Colvin occupies a niche between pensive Sheryl Crow and pre-jazz Joni Mitchell: no histrionics but a telling, often moving restraint.

Though "French Rock'n'Roll" is somewhat lacking in zest (quelle surprise), the care afforded to the rest of this record's conception and execution is obvious.

An eminently listenable collage of jittery grooves, lop-sided beats and wayward electronica.

It's hard to envisage anything this parochial moving beyond cult status.

The pair's lack of ambition might eventually grate but listen to this on your own on a rainy Sunday, with the thermostat set on 25 and its hallucinatory qualities might well invade your being.

If rock'n'roll is supposed to be dying, then these are exactly the guys we want manning the emergency room. [Aug 2001, p.98]