Suck It blends the deliberateness of that record with the fleet-footedness of their still-stunning 2006 debut Whatever You Say I Am, That's What I'm Not and follow-up My Favourite Worst Nightmare.

Even when you're not sure where they're going, you can't wait to see what happens when they get there. [Aug 2006, p.86]

That pairing of punk force and country grit is nothing new, but Lydia Loveless makes it her own through the strength of a blazing voice, a fully formed persona, and bluntly crafty songwriting.

Even as they feature orchestras, women's choirs, and Beach House singer Victoria Legrand on Veckatimest, the album is still an intimate, ascetic affair.

The first single's called 'Pretty Wings,' but the whole thing flies.

Trigga isn't as cohesive as 2009's Ready, but it's a sublime, soulful convergence of the sonic minimalism and oil-slicked synths of today's hip-hop and R&B, and its sound provides a charismatic contrast to its almost anhedonic pursuit of pleasure.

An eight-song, 34-minute miniature more substantial than just a handful of outtakes, but also in execution not as complete or united as his album-ass albums (starting with 2011’s Section.80).

The Rumble Strips are so contagiously charged up that it's tempting to overlook their pathetic mind-set.

Cape Dory establishes an enviable fantasy: two lovers happily adrift. Where Best Coast is too cool for school, Tennis seem (almost) too good to be true.

Astro Coast can stand up to online scrutiny--it's girls that keep Surfer Blood's reverbed indie rock jumping out of its skin.

As lean and compact as its predecessor was expansive. [Jan 2007, p.88]

Of course, the main attraction remains his bristling, zigzag guitar licks, which still astound nearly 40 years on. [Jun 2007, p.96]

Where Marina’s appeal lies in her writing her emotions large through her music, Christine achieves something more challenging and arguably richer in gleefully obfuscating hers--making her as difficult to read in song as on her minimalist and tonally flat LP cover, but essentially inviting you to come and be puzzling with her.

The result: an album exuding wall-punching energy, ugly noise, and raging nostalgia for stale bong water and sunburn.

This ain't perfect, nor is it exactly sui generis, but it still ought to bump up their summer-festival-lineup-poster font size by a solid five points or so.

Murs for President has a cumulative bang that's impossible to deny.

It's fevered outbursts like 'Lookout' and 'Grey Skies,' where Dex unleashes his slightly sloshed voice and surfabilly guitar, that have real soul-saving potential

On his solo debut, Jonsi Birgisson--Sigur Ros' spectral voice and six-string skyscraper--embraces a lithe, lush pop his main band is too monolithic to accommodate, and it's revelatory.

While this album is inarguably Konono’s slickest offering yet, slick remains a relative term with these lo-fi guys.

Rather than trying to replicate their off-the-cuff studio performances onstage, Gordon and Nace treat the songs as rough outlines for further improvisation, to be colored in as the musicians please.

These are well-loved songs that Ndegeocello loves a little bit more, singing them with a rich, warm tone (she’s never sounded better) and backed by a band who know how to anticipate every bob and weave she might make. It’s one of her best.

The Only Place delivers riveting drama in a rousing pop package, with Brion rescuing Best Coast from the fuzzed-out, lo-fi indie template, cleaning up their sound and enhancing the potential for mainstream appeal exponentially without diminishing their artistic credibility.

Cost of Living outpaces its predecessor in large because of Downtown Boys’ newfound mastery of dynamics in their performances.

Producer Karlberg also has expanded his reach and grip, snatching sounds from all over and re-purposing them to serve Mwamwaya's immaculate, coruscating voice.

Pretend turns out to be an enticing fusion of her wintry, pop-paradise homeland, and the West African musical roots she picked up from her father, the late Maudo Sey, all tempered with raw empathy; her masterful pop-soul captures depressive moments and makes them soar.

Simply enjoy the band's increasingly deep groove, its rich crosscutting of violin and accordion melodies and its mastery of both Gypsycore trash and lilting Euro-reggae. [Aug 2007, p.106]

[A] taut, very good sophomore studio album.

It's their most instantly accessible effort after "Bark," with a dozen catchy tunes packed inside 47 easy, breezy minutes.