Under the Boards, finds [Conley] in a surprisingly dark and newwavish mode, bobbing through spare, angular arrangements that overemphasize the off-key bleat that's his albatross as much as the band's signature.

It's weird to think that these Texas upstarts are largely relegated to the fringes of pop--what they do is so basic, so elemental, it's hard to even come up with a modifier to place in front of "rock."

Invaders Must Die is a stirringly workmanlike, if retro, blast of founder/producer Liam Howlett's anthemic breakbeat spazz.

"Demons" and "Ten-Speed" show that Higgins' amber vocals and crisp guitar skills remain, but too much here floats by on a vague cloud of coffeehouse clichés.

On True Colors, each track tries to be a separate statement as Zedd tries to crash through his own, pre-existing glass ceiling--but the whole falls short of the sum of its parts.

Longer on nuance than hook. [Mar 2007, p.98]

This debut from electro rocker Simon Lord (Simian) and Big Beat vet Theo "DJ Touché" Keating (the Wiseguys) has a sinister allure when Keating's dark, steely disco productions are paired with Lord's whiny, desperate alto ("I Want Nothing," "I Don't Know").

X's overlong albums have always been exhausting, and this time he sounds bored and fatigued. [Sep 2006, p.100]

That most welcome of albums: a great driving record that exquisitely soundtracks crushes and heartbreaks. [Feb 2007, p.89]

Ultimately, the set is a little schizo, but it channels enough rap-rock frisson to make it more than just a between-albums snack. [Sep 2002, p.128]

Sparta have evolved, with a melodic approach and a postdepression, fist-pumping attitude. [Nov 2006, p.104]

My Morning Jacket sound right at home on "Emmet Otter's Jug-Band Christmas," while Rivers Cuomo and Hayley Williams conjure some bizarro odd-couple energy in "The Rainbow Connection."

The strong-heeled Jackie is far from conservative, and possibly more daring, with three of the year’s best songs at the very top, middle, and bottom.

The anger is a new look for him, as is the role of political pundit or chronicler of social ills. And ultimately, Ludacris still sounds best on tracks like the NC-17 "Woozy." [Oct 2006, p.99]

Something is definitely missing on A Better Tomorrow: not necessarily the cryptic slang and mythology, but that RZA and the other members haven't found something to replace what stood them apart from the crowd.

Unfortunately, those songs are slight, unfocused things.

Taking a cue from Shelby Lynne, the Watsons consult vintage Southern styles for inspiration, incorporating touches of country and plenty of hot-blooded soul.

[Razorlight] give post-Strokes neo-garage rock a tidy soul makeover. [Sep 2006, p.111]

Sophisticated dance-floor mischief rarely gets this sexy.

This isn't Watch the Throne, full of rich and weighty contributions from a man who is still enormously talented. It's rap music as a transaction, with a host of stars and hip names wrangled together to convince you it's not.

There is a sense on V that Live will stay around long enough to ride into the state-fair sunset. [Oct 2001, p.137]

Like all of Lil Wayne's albums, it's a mess; unlike some of its predecessors, it's not a terribly ambitious mess, nor is it much fun, which for Wayne is a sin.

The Buffet is better than just another R. Kelly album, but not enough to be worth saying so outside of a review, much less on a year-end list; call it a good one-night stand.

Variety has never been Audioslave's strong suit. [Sep 2006, p.102]

The fusion is sweet yet corny... and occasionally it's just baffling. [Aug 2001, p.132]

A suite of faux-folkie electro that fuses the introspection of Ray of Light with Music's fast-food dance licks. [Jun 2003, p.99]

The deceptive lack of star power would be less of an issue if there was more here to break up the album’s mid-tempo monotony.

Keenan sometimes winks too much, but he knows when to pull back from the brink of ridiculousness. [Dec 2007, p.125]