Los Angeleans' Paul Simon-channelling second LP. [Sept. 2011, p. 110]

Things unravel with the folky fuzz of closer Aphorismic Wasteland Blues, but for a band whose charm is enjoyably slack'n'sleazy that's kind if the point. [Apr 2014, p.112]

A listening experience every bit as intense and idiosyncratic as Ecks himself. [Sep. 2016, p.106]

If The Killers hadn't got there first with Hot Fuss, The Bravery's debut would have been revolutionary. Instead it is merely a brilliant pop record. [Apr 2005, p.115]

A second Oasis album to better "Standing On the Shoulders Of Giants" and "Heathen Chemistry," but one too, that promises so much only to fall so short. [Nov 208, p.104]

Lacking the chutzpah of Beyonce or a signature voice to rival Mary J Blige, it's another curiously polite mix of soul and pop hip hop. [Dec 2007, p.118]

Fascinating thumbnails of the blissful, abstract funk which was to come. [May 2012, p.115]

It's incontestably menopausal, but fairly dapper with it. [Oct 2006, p.122]

Everybody is a sweet-voiced cross between Colbie Caillat and Lisa Loeb's fourth LP and, even without the stately strings on the genuinely affecting Sort Of, it would be her most accomplished yet. [Dec 2009, p. 119]

It's business as usual rather than a breakthrough. [Nov 2007, p.138]

It walks to the wobbly line between the sparkling and the indulgent with the former just about winning out. [Aug 2018, p.116]

It sounds like [he's having a lark]. [Jul 2012, p.108]

It's good in places, sporadically very good, but is no significant step up from their debut. [Oct 2012, p.113]

Quietly confessional and ever so slightly disturbing. [Oct 2009, p.117]

Themes of fun, sun and beach-bum ennui pervade, but even if it fails to reach the summery stoner highs of their previous record, there's no denying The Only Place's indomitable West Coast pop-rock melodies and sugary thrills. [Jun 2012, p.97]

At times rapturous, it's the title track's mix of dub effects and PiL-inspired vocals that grabs the ears most effectively. [Jun 2011, p.107]

Trespassing is magnificent is its competence, but sadly, it doesn't appear to have an actual beating heart in it anywhere. [Aug 2012, p.102]

There's comfort in the intensely melodic Surfer's Lament, and if there must be impossibly soapy love songs, they might as well be as lovely as My Heart Belongs To You. [Feb 2014, p.119]

There are some crisp pop tunes--Next To Nothing; So Easy, So Cool--but the country-tinged folk of Convince Us and Say Goodbye reek of "will this do?" [Nov 2003, p.124]

[Fat John's] hyper-literate, cosmically inclined stylings can't help but humanise -- and eventually soften -- the hard burn of circuitry. [Aug 2003, p.111]

A winsome, musically surprising outing. [Jul 2004, p.114]

A wildly inventive, often sprawling opus, comprising a multitude of styles from boisterous guitar rock to psychedelic nonsense.

MACHINA/the machines of God is, mostly, a wonderful rock album.

The occasional tune shines through, but ultimately too much of the material sounds like it's aimlessly ad-libbed. [Oct 2008, p.147]

It's a frustratingly inconsistent affair. [Aug 2013, p.97]

Solid, if a bit derivative. [Oct 2010, p.116]

This record passes right through you. [Feb 2013, p.104]

She makes the most with what she's got, along with a decent strike rate for pulling radio-friendly hooks out of the hat. [Sep 2010, p.122]