They refresh all their tricks, with stripped-down, energetic guitar plus little electronics. [Apr 2008, p.92]

The music may be just as strong, tight, and impeccable--this is a band that's been going at it for more than a quarter of a century, after all--but there's a lightness missing here, a lack of passion.

They're never slavish imitators, and when they goose the velocity--those comparisons gradually fade into classic, shimmery guitar pop. [Nov 2008, p.88]

With her bandmates providing roughed-up backing that's neither appropriate nor compelling, Persson comes off like a stylish girl with unnecessarily ratty hair. [Nov 2006, p.97]

Their most eccentric, diverse sounding record to date.

The typically droll Video Star includes a cowbell-enhanced rave-up ('Do You Mind'), a bit of Lady Gaga–ish electro-pop ('Last Days of Disco'), and one track named after Transformers ('Deceptacon'). It's a charm offensive with stars and stripes.

It's another solid collection that echoes his day job from an artful distance.

All in all, this is a well-written, smartly paced, tightly played, thematically cohesive, musically tidy piece of work. It's just that quite a lot of Camper fans probably never considered those qualities to be particularly appealing virtues.

Here they dial down the Black Flag–derived chaos of "The Bronx (I)" and "(II)," unleashing sharper melodies and boogie rhythms that Axl Rose might've admired before getting cornrows.

Guitarist Adam Kessler's exit makes room for a more overtly expansive approach on the Drums' just as solid sophomore outing.

All Night Long posits Buckcherry as your ultimate all-night rager soundtrack; the fist-pumping anthem-makers who are best heard on 5 a.m. IHOP runs.

It's not the conceptul masterpiece he was clearly hoping for, but there are moments of transcendence just the same. [Nov 2008, p.89]

Thunderheist is all about the quick dance-floor fix, but Isis imbues her characters with quick-witted wickedness, and producer Graham Zilla churns out Spartan synth tracks that have an undeniably funky buzz.

Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark's first album in 14 years--and first in 24 to feature the lineup that recorded the bulk of their hits--meticulously returns to the ostensibly perky sound and pensive sensibility of the Merseyside quartet's early-to-mid-'80s heyday.

Murray doesn't sound like he's going anywhere but straight home after last call. [June 2008, p.119]

A jarring, but refreshing, makeover.

Conditions of My Parole, featuring a supporting cast that includes Keenan's son Devo and ex-Mars Volta drummer Jon Theodore, reveals a more reassuring side of a singer better known for willful alienation.

To divide Hella's mind is to hack their talent in half. [May 2005, p.105]

Even without the manic singer actually up in your face, the band’s gleefully knuckle-dragging first full-length is a thrilling throwdown.

Though singer Bobby Gillespie's lyrics are still rife with anti-establishment paranoia, songs such as 'The Glory of Love' and the title track are colorful, catchy, and informed by a cautious optimism born of hard-earned perspective and a surprising maturity.

Unleashes a torrent of bloated, if occasionally lovely, romantic anthems that aspire to cosmic insight, yet settle for greeting-card corn. [Sep 2006, p.112]

Sam's Town is basically Hot Fuss with bigger, spanglier guitars and an all-round lack of restraint. [Oct 2006, p.93]

Unlistenable. [Mar 2004, p.96]

Leanness and vitality have replaced the cokey bloat of their last few studio trips. [Jun 2005, p.103]

Preparations will leave you dizzy and wondering what it all means-- which may be the point. [Nov 2007, p.124]

On album three, Keane trick out their pretty piano melodies with tasty synths ('The Lovers Are Losing'), booming rap beats ('Spiralling'), and fuzzy new-wave guitars ('You Haven’t Told Me Anything').

Bluesy single-note guitar lines compete with jagged chording, the bass thumps out counter-melodies, strained yelping dissolves into pastoral harmony. Yet it all coheres thanks to frontman Benjamin Verdoes' pop instincts and the band's jittery energy.

More Than Just a Dream steps backwards--where its predecessor was shockingly felt, this settles for something more distant, theatrical, grandiose.