Once the dust dies down, though, the remainder of Who We Touch feels disappointingly timid in comparison, and the particularly saggy middle section sees them pitch their tent smack bang in the middle of the road.

Doesn't life already seem cruelly short? Do you really want to waste any of it ploughing through a new Duran Duran record? [9 Oct 2004, p.56]

Such boyish noise has been done to death of late and, frankly, it’s been done better. More interesting is David Cox and Russell Crank’s Tiga-ish pop sensibility.

‘Stay Awhile’ and renditions of The Righteous Brothers’ ‘Unchained Melody’ and the Burt Bacharach and Hal David-penned ‘This Girl’s In Love With You’ are stunning in isolation. A whole album of Deschanel’s wholesome, entertaining-the-troops voice and M Ward’s tasteful instrumentation is cloying.

CSS may care deeply about every song (though it often doesn't sound like it), but for the listener, a lot of the charm has worn off.

The unfortunate irony is that Sounds From Nowheresville doesn't sound much like a grand rejection of pop music at all. It just sounds a little bereft of ideas, and way too short.

Overall Change lacks Wire’s usual focus.

On first listen sound[s] like someone taking the piss out of The Rapture. [11 Sep 2004, p.57]

They fare better on the more tuneful, less screechy 'Midnight Hours', but as a whole the album would have benefited from some ruthless editing and extra production spit and polish.

And for her second album of Amos-aping MTV-branded Lilith Fair fodder, the barmiest, prettiest pretender to Tori's throne of corporate crackpot chic deals unashamedly in that tired and trusted heavyweight heart-tugging currency: relationships.

From production so glossy that you could use it to reapply your lipstick to Sisqo's tortuous way with words, there's little here in the way of sex or sensuality.

There’s a fine line between blues authenticity and pub-rock tedium and, accordingly, Attack & Release often falls victim to parody.

The concept is pleasant at first, but pretty soon the repetitive nature of each soundscape--clipped beats, soft Catalan/Castellano vocals and the odd bash, pluck, bird-call and random tinkle--starts to make NME jittery.

This is easily the weakest DMX release to date.

Leaving behind the soul-infused, gutter-punk leanings of their debut, this desperately craves the attentions of the MOR indie mainstream in a way so steeped in bathos that the over-produced sheen of the car-ad soundtracking title track shines less like superstar diamonds and more like sun off a bald man’s head.

Nothing quite fits, giving the impression that this material wasn't good enough for the guest artists' own albums.

Pop princess turned electro muse fails to deliver.

'A Funk Odyessey' takes you on a journey of eye-closing triteness.

This is just one long squelchy fart of a soundscape that Reznor himself admits is probably too long. It's certainly too unremitting.

There are bits of 'Amputechture' that sail perilously away from good honest prog into the realms of free jazz. [9 Sep 2006, p.37]

Listen speckles similar crackers (‘Goodbye Friend’, ‘Hey Mama’) between gushes of sizzle sewage, as if all of Ibiza’s been trying to get high on glittery laxatives.

Album two features some catchy and classy electronic dance music.... Unfortunately though, ‘Broken Record’ sounds like a Eurovision-endorsed soundtrack to Cassack dancing and ‘Satellites’ is a limp version of Madonna’s ‘Ray Of Light.’

A tasteful set of sorrow-wallowing wet-indie covers produced by James Ford.

The Day's trademark bubblegum punk rock guitars have all been turned down in favour of a less electric, more organic sound. Where once they rocked out, now they polka on the awful Levellers-like 'Fashion Victim' - a song about Gianni Versace. Please.... 'Warning' is the sound of a band losing its way.

While it's briefly thrilling to hear Young's bolshy take on Woody Guthrie's 'This Land Is Your Land', it's nowhere near Johnny Cash/Rick Rubin standards, or even a Bob Dylan Christmas album.

It's a little like a Crimewatch reconstruction: very well put together, all in a good cause, vaguely entertaining, but really they're just hoping it'll vaguely remind you of something that happened years ago. [1 Oct 2005, p.47]

A not-bad record. [11 Mar 2006, p.43]

The beats may be basic and the quality fuzzy... but there are diamonds among the dirt. [21 Aug 2004, p.49]