Frontman Krayg Burton's voice is a desperately weak instrument, his whispered snatches of melody never quite coalescing into memorable tunes. [Feb 2006, p.102]

The lyrics tend towards the banal and, at times, there is a palpable sense of awkwardness. [Dec 2004, p.134]

Their debut's wilful eccentricity is mostly unconvincing. [Mar 2020, p.119]

It's a confusing affair, where [Urie] foolishly tries to croon like Frank Sinatra on the title track and never quite nails down whatever the big idea was supposed to be. Still, there are moments to cherish. [Feb 2016, p.115]

They have their moments, including the electro-rock riffs on Bambi, but elsewhere the lack of variety soon grates. [Sep 2010, p.121]

Nothing here is essential, but there will always be enough completeist to warrent airing of Dylan's old laundry. [Nov 2008, p.127]

By throwing everything at the wall and nailing up the stuff that didn't stick, he's done himself--and more importantly what he clearly views as his masterpiece--a grand disservice. [Jan 2009, p.110]

It's a boring splodge on the pop landscape, so relentlessly samey and entitled. [Aug 2017, p.106]

The Diving Board is less engaging, widescreen lyrics paired with waddling blues and maudlin balladry. [Oct 2013, p.104]

Even the welcome presence of Boston's original singer Brad Delp, who committed suicide in 2007, can't save it. [Feb 2014, p.119]

My God Is Blue is sorely lacking in vision. [Jun 2012, p.112]

[Her] penchant for pretension remains irksome: the dot in her name, the cringey album title, the worthy lyrics and constant namechecking of soul greats. [December 2002, p.96]

Simone and Amedeo Pace weave intricate musical patterns on a collection of songs distinguished by their fundamental lack of tunes. Aside from the exuberant frisson of This Is Not, the album staggers unsteadily between serene chamber pop, looping layered electronics and shouty, full-on hyperactive thrashy punk...

It's [an album] whose tricks... we've heard done before. [Aug 2004, p.115]

The occasional glimmer of pop genius seen in the albums past is mostly absent, with plodding piano ballads in place instead. [Jul 2012, p.112]

The bulk sounds little different from most of what passes for mainstream country these days. [Jul 2006, p.113]

The admirable rhetoric might mean something were it not backed by such a generic pastiche of Editors/White Lies/Interpol, all cavernous bass and drums and two-note guitar solos. [Apr 2011, p.98]

The music is terribly dull, like a watered-down Weezer. [Dec 2007, p.125]

The album has a polished sheen, but Leto's delivery of his earnest, sci-fi-tinged lyrics gets monotonous over the course of the album. [Dec 2002, p.96]

Everything here is overdone, whether it's Nick Thorburn's thatrical vocals, the myriad pointless time changes or J'aime Vous Von Quitter's horrid La Bamba-style outero. [June 2008, p.142]

Turns out that melancholy is his band's key constiturnt, however for without it the result is a bit too sugary. [Apr 2010, p.112]

Ambition too often trumps listenability. [Oct 2012, p.104]

The 37-minute length is not the only thing about this album that's slight. [May 2006, p.116]

Thier relentless pursuit of "the craic" is wearing, evocative song titles not hiding the fact Dublin-native Dave King's lyrics lack the romanticism of Shane MacGowan. [June 2008, p.138]

The Californian four-piece's follow-up is less inspired, however, lacking any memorable tunes or winning hoks to distract from Nathan Willett's grating falsetto, and much of the album is heavy going. [Oct 2008, p.141]

The solemn dream-pop of Dominic is a rare highlight that serves only to demonstrate the rest of the album's shortcomings. [May 2014, p.116]

Unfortunately, too many of their other choruses aim high yet fall flat. [May 2011, p.109]

Lyrically unambitious, musically on its laurels, there's no oomph here. [Jul 2015, p.113]

Utterly forgettable and hampered by Ruth-Ann's thin vocals. [Nov. 2000, p.113]

It still has an easy going charm and the odd surprise, but more spice would have helped cut through the pervading blandness. [Jan 2014, p.124]

Elisabeth Maurus's second album finds her still awkwardly straddling the divide between sensitive songwriter and would-be stadium rocker. [Oct 2013, p.106]

The year-round sunshine [of new home L.A.] seems to have induced creative lethargy, sapping the adventure that elevated his last album. [Jun 2003, p.106]

Hardly exciting, but it is terrifyingly professional. [Dec 2002, p.110]

There's much daftness along the way. [Aug 2002, p.121]

Their sound speaks more of artifice than inspiration. [July 2002, p.112]

Occasionally it's so insane that you can't help but be swept along with it. Mostly, however, it's so over the top the more likely reaction is to run it off and make sure you don't hear it again in a hurry. [Dec. 2011 p. 122]

Chalk this one down purely to an arrangement of Tinseltown convenience. [Oct 2009, p.115]

With songs this weak, Randall's Norfolk-flat voice has nowhere to hide. [Oct 2013, p.107]

There are suggestions of better directions not taken. [Jul 2019, p.113]

This finds the Californians bulking out five lead-footed new tracks with live versions of their handful of hits. The whiff of desperation. [Oct 2010, p.103]

This is a luxurious but ultimately hollow Faberge egg of a record. [Feb 2014, p.121]

Even when HitNRun improves, it implies creative drought. [Nov 2015, p.102]

It's an accomplished production--but an unambitious production, a reluctance to soar. [Apr 2015, p.102]

When Mendel cranks things up, he's on shakier ground. [May 2015, p.107]

Birthmarks is far from being a poor record, but it's limited in ambition and reach. [May 2013, p.97]

A mess. [Feb 2003, p.107]

Wonky vocals and a lack of guile strangle the project, not least on Efflictim, where a terminal aimlessness befits the melodramatic-teen lyric[s]. [Jun 2012, p.115]

There's absolutely nothing wrong with Mono, but bands such as Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Explosions In The Sky do it better. [Aug 2004, p.116]

There are moments... as good and chart-friendly as anything by Royksopp or Mylo.... But most of the time they prefer to trade in dreary whimsy. [Jun 2006, p.116]

The likes of Up The Junction and Cool For Cats still sound fabulous, but it's a mystery why they didn't just remaster one of their collections. [Dec 2010, p.114]

Sometimes less is more. [Jan 2010, p.117]

But for all the acerbic intelligence at play, the pretentious delivery makes this self-satisfied project hard to embrace. [Dec 2004, p.134]

There's little that's newly inspired and, aside from the understated Always Tomorrow, nothing superior to past glories. [Aug 2005, p.132]

There's a late sunburst of sweet vocal harmonies and folk rock riffs on closing track Night And Day, but it's not enough to save this dreary album. [Oct 2010, p.104]

The new electronic direction is likely to lose more fans than it gains.

There's been a strong sense of diminishing returns. [Dec 2014, p.109]

Guitars jangle and fuzz to no clear purpose, the rest of the instrumentation plods behind, and singer Wayne Petti fails to convince. [Dec 2012, p.103]. [Dec 2012, p.103]

Ultimately, it's good to know they're out there straining every nerve, vein and eyeball, even if those who'll want to listen to it more than twice are surely few. [Jun 2012, p.101]

They've lost some of their endearing quirks en route, the songs often slipping into a tuneless mess reminiscent of early-'90s experimentalists Truman's Water at their most challenging. [Jul 2011, p.111]

While there is plenty to admire in the ambition, there's little to love, as memorable hooks prove to be at a premium. [Oct 2009, p.116]

Overall, Endless Scroll feels self-righteous and misses the crucial idea that insurrection can actually be fun. [Jul 2018, p.108]

Too much else here is a plodding, monochrome take on '60s psychedelia, lacking in originality or imagination. [Mar 2013, p.108]

Dani Filth's ninth album ramps up the Carry On Screaming! schtick; the result is one he's behind you short of a pantomime. [Dec. 2010, p. 103]

They strain to resemble the Stooges and mavericks from the Beasties to the Stones but still can't conjure the killer tune. [Oct 20012, p.103]

A typically disorienting affair, Skik I Allt divides itself between pastoral, paisley-patterned '60s pop and, more troublingly, the toothless prog-rock of Hogdalstoppen and Blandband. [Oct 2010, p.107]

With deeply average tunes and deeply average rapping throughout, not even an appearance by Carlos Santana on Babylon Feeling can turn things around.

Frustratingly uneven. [Jun 2012, p.118]

Tasteful and soothing for Webb's ego, it's not much good for anything else. [Jan 2014, p.127]

Many tracks are meaningless in isolation.[#184, p.146]

Beat the Devil's Tattoo finds BRMC edging ever further toward parody. [Apr 2010, p.109]

It's the songs which seal The Isness's fate. [Sep 2002, p.100]

The threesome do manage to build up a decent head of steam on the motorik Just To Play, but Olivier's bored tones guarantee the feeling is fleeting. [Mar 2005, p.104]

A wasted opportunity. [Dec 2016, p.109]

It's a mixed listen. [Oct 2011, p.128]

It's a powerful formula, but one the band perfected with their 2002 album Oceanic. [Dec 2006, p.141]

Full marks for envelope-pushing, but this third album is very much an acquired taste. [Dec 2014, p.110]

Sees Milo Cordell and Robbie Furze being drawn further into the stadium-electro wind tunnel. [Feb. 2012 p. 101]

It's singing their filthy lyrics in thick French accents that spoils the party. [Apr 2008, p.115]

Built To Spill sound as if they're trying too hard, and ultimately both The Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev do this sort of thing with far more panache.

While his taste is textbook classic, his arrangements are not. [May 2003, p.104]

Well-intentioned, no doubt, but it's a clunky, unconvincing listen where even the few musical highlights are far between. [Oct 2011, p.130]

Her giggly peers will find she speaks their language, while grown-ups will prefer her to keep quiet. [Apr 2009, p.110]

It's a mess, characteristically dark but the riffs are scruffy and their once-mesmerising power is gone. [May 2013, p.99]

The resulting combination, of despondency and dull melodies, makes for an uninspiring take on dance music past. [Nov 2018, p.111]

Scialfa has surrendered and retreated into singer-songwriter orthodoxy, despite the appealing doo-wop backing vocals of 'Like Any Woman Would' and the lyrical twists of 'Black Ladder.' [Oct 2007, p.105]

Only one track, Call Me, offers second listenability with its funky shuffle drums, Neil Young guitar raunch and doomster attitude... Otherwise, Freel's appeal depends on his ear for interesting noises. [Aug 2001, p.141]

The major problems with his 14th solo studio album are Starr himself, and Dave Stewart. [Feb 2008, p.102]

Mostly what you'll hear, though, is the hollow sound of a man needing a good, long break.

Infinitely bland. [Oct 2003, p.111]

Now more than ever Richard Ashcroft is comfortable with music that strays alarmingly close to the Middle Of The Road.

Often the beats are so clumpy that the vocals are left trying to drag things forward. [Nov 2018, p.109]

But even knowing that [it's inspired by a Sam Shepard play], it's impossible to tell what's going on. [June 2008, p.149]

Back To Basics' pub-rock charm wears thin pretty quickly. [Aug 2015, p.115]

Her music is much the same as on her 1999 debut "Black Diamond," dulled by a surplus of smooth, bass-heavy slow jams. [Dec 2007, p.124]

Abrasive textures win out over melody, and the odd flashes of In rainbows-era Radiohead only serve to underline the inaccessibility of the rest of the material. [Apr 2018, p.115]

Worthy, but hard work. [Aug 2015, p.115]

It delivers patches of sheer brilliance, but the overwhelming urge is to ask them to cut to the chase. [Dec 2012, p.109]

The inimitable genius of B.I.G.--the mordant wit, the complex lyricism--is painfully diluted here. [Jul 2017, p.107]