Yet despite the quality of Can't Get Back To The Baseline and the Kinks-like Give Me A Letter, several semi-acoustic fillers -- of which the dreary, You Are Amazing is the worst offender -- water down the album as a whole.

This is their most rewarding yet, built to enjoy in one 38-minute session, languid, melancholy tunes growing out of barely audible static pulses, incoherently Vocodered whispers or preposterously exciting cymbal splashes, carried on by soft pianos, vulgarity-free brass and strings into Bitch Magnet-meets-Samuel Barber electric cataclysms.

Cull the arrogance, the laziness, the ill-considered ignorance, the (that word yet again) sneering, and there wouldn't be a better album than Know Your Enemy, and not just of this year. Cull the brave lyrics, the moments of inspiration, the songs to treasure and the moments of honesty and, were it available in dogfood form, you wouldn't feed Know Your Enemy to your hounds.

The problems are compounded by the sheer awfulness of some of Jones’ lyrics.... What often redeems them is the music. On that front, Stereophonics have undoubtedly progressed...

Kozelek's less-than-euphoric vocals become wearying after a few tracks, though the band shuffle basic resources with some brio. Worth the wait, but only just.

Melody rarely comes easily, but this is a flamboyantly musical record that creates the perfect backdrop for Cave's theological, metaphysical musings.

It seems hard to believe that the man who made this album is the same one responsible for the 1984's still splendid Rattlesnakes.

What makes BRMC extra special and what steers them well clear of parody drone-rock territory is their three-dimensional sound. [Jan 2002, p.103]

Ridin', Porn Star and Slammin' are as disposably trashy as their titles suggest, and even the trowelled-on angst of Slit My Wrists and Whiskey In The Morning sounds like a pool party at a Beverley Hills bordello.

Singer Pat Monahan has a Michael Stipe-esque voice: part whine part sneer, but with an added dollop of believeable pathos. On this second album, his four colleagues concoct intriguing backdrops... [#180, p.112]

While this falls short of the momentous A Few Small Repairs, it's still something to treasure.

Simultaneously lovely and repellent, there's echoes of the Pet Shop Boys, Pink Floyd and Momus. But, in truth, their combination of the sinister and the delicious is entirely original.

Contains a clutch of crowd-pleasingly brutal anthems...

Wicked Grin is a bona fide revelation.... A rambunctious joy from beginning to end.

Sure, there are some moments of taxing weirdness but generally, it's good, albeit eccentric fun.

It's that sense of doing just enough but no more that permeates this album, at times rendering it laid back to the point of disengaged.

No moment of Discovery is left unfilled with an idea, a sonic joke, a spark of brilliance.... a towering, persuasive tour de force which ultimately transcends the dance label.

Not big, not clever, not hip, not trendy. Just fantastic.

Were they anything but Gallic, this approach would doubtless sound corny and contrived.

Unexpectedly vibrant, like riot grrrl with tunes. [Oct 2002, p.100]

There's no revist from the muse that delivered the exquisite Temptation Eyes back in 1990. [Sep 2001, p.107]

Like most blockbusters, the script is predictable - topics include no-good men, being hard and how great Eve is - but this is designed for booming out of car stereos rather than close listening.

A seedily romantic, kitchen-sink paean to London, We Love The City finds Hefner's previously wan guitar stylings given a coat of production lustre.

Yet while the sound of these songs is often great, the bad news is that most of the songs themselves leave little lasting impression.

There's lashings of charm in the way the songs unfurl, touch upon an array of ethereal womenfolk and end, having gone nowhere much, but prettily.

These are skewed, disturbing, beautiful songs...

Group Sounds is as good as anything they've put their name to previously. [#180, p.110]

Another triumph, brimming with soulful, languid grooves, deft samples and well-chosen guest singers.