For the juke-joint blues of “Jimmy Mathis” and the breezy mountain song “Comin Round,” he takes old-school-as-the-hills song forms and gussies them up for the club.

[A] more toned-down, at times strikingly sincere, follow-up. [Dec 2005, p.104]

They're better at evoking turbulence than talking about it--efforts to cop '80s-pop vocals are overshadowed by the cascade and rumble of the instrumental long-players. [Apr 2005, p.102]

The flow is straight-up alien: chilled-out and frantic at the same time, slightly breathless. [Feb 2004, p.95]

A Kleenex-grabbing, chain-smoking, staring-out-the-window, in-bed-for-days breakup record. [Jun 2004, p.106]

A dark, emotionally intense record, best experienced on headphones. [Jan 2004, p.97]

Repulsion is like The Wild Bunch seen from the outskirts of Edinburgh, a European reflection of the stylized American West. [Aug 2005, p.99]

Few bands this side of Wilco float along so easily on little more than diagonally rendered elegiac noises and severe anxiety disorder. [Mar 2006, p.95]

His characters feel like individuals, not archetypes. [Sep 2004, p.114]

They do it better [than the Postal Service]--catchier songs, chillier production and more sophisticated beats. [Nov 2004, p.118]

They clearly prize improvisation and spontaneity; the songs always sound like they were written this morning, refined over lunch, and recorded in time for happy hour. [Jan 2004, p.103]

His loosest, most inspired set yet. [Mar 2005, p.86]

If Oneida are feeling hunted or hemmed in, they haven’t gone to ground: Expensive Air is, above all else, a barreling rush over the barricades and a frenzied, defiant dash toward whatever remains of freedom on the other side. Here it comes, indeed.

Even when the music flags, Common's remarkably hungry raps push it along. [Jun 2005, p.102]

Stuff this simple can turn into art that's fantastic or a fantastic disaster. Coachwhips walk the line masterfully. [Feb 2005, p.91]

Gut-wrenching, foot-stomping punk. [Feb 2006, p.87]

He's one of the four or five best MCs breathing. [Aug 2004, p.103]

[Death Cab] have never made the truly great album that their best songs promised. Until now. [Nov 2003, p.112]

The surprise here is less that an album about emerging, stronger, from sorrow’s all-encompassing shroud somehow goes down like a goblet of spiked sunshine. The surprise lies more in how much more emotional power the guitarwork—fluid, generous, measured—brings to bear, how much weight it carries this time.

Daniel's bump-and-grind synth lines are all campy humor. [Mar 2005, p.92]

A richly rewarding passage through the last five decades of American music history. [Aug 2005, p.99]

With his knack for extracting humor from the mundane, Skinner’s the perfect poet for this snooze of a topic.

Bright Yellow is the soundtrack for a small town, like New york, where everybody knows too much about everybody else. [May 2003, p.112]

Their best by a mile. [Jun 2003, p.100]

Room's similarity to its predecessor ultimately bespeaks a purity of vision, not a dearth of new ideas. [Dec 2003, p.121]

A dark, tense record, but one still crackling with life. [Sep 2004, p.114]

The live guitars and drums--and vocals more emo than robo--give off an irresistible warmth. [Aug 2004, p.108]

Recall[s] his greatest '90s-electronica work. [May 2006, p.91]