With this new album, they finally sever those last few ties, and forge ahead into the retro future.

Recall[s] the most disturbingly surreal moments of a David Lynch film. [Jul 2006, p.87]

The only time the almost 80-minute Take Care doesn't work is when it indulges something resembling conventional hip-hop.

ScHoolboy Q comes off like the dude who gives in to all the peer pressure, constantly on the verge of betraying his talents and smarts just to fit in and be one of the bros. The weirder he gets, the better.

Wasting Light is much more than a salad-days nostalgia trip -- it's Grohl's most memorable set of songs since 1997's The Colour and the Shape.

His most concise, transportive record to date. The keys to Consciousness’ triumph: fewer songs, fewer vocals, way, way more gorgeous guitar work.

This smart, jagged, contemplative work makes you wonder if Williams could wring amazing stuff out of Bennington too.

Her deadpan delivery -- a more extreme version of awkward queen Maria Bamford -- and her truly singular material (how she saved the career of forgotten pop diva Taylor Dayne, an impression 
of someone doing an impression) don't need silly faces to be hilarious.

No longer ghosts, with this strong, same-as-it-ever-was album, Veruca Salt are now full-on zombies, the riffing dead. They don’t wanna go.

It's an irresisitible, exhilarating mix that sounds like no band but Wolf Parade.

Geist keeps it coolly retro. [Nov 2008, p.91]

Since 2004's Last Exit, Junior Boys' main man Jeremy Greenspan has couched his plaintive voice in various strains of modern electronic music, flitting between 2-step and synth-pop, with diminishing returns.

He cross-fades scratch solos and oddball sound bites like he's trying to win a DJ battle and top the Down Beat poll at the same time. [Jan 2004, p.100]

Interesting as these personal/lyrical developments may be, overall the latest round of self-therapy just isn't quite as tuneful as previous ones.

The skeletal guitars, stylized strings, and rhythmic clatter are enough of a flashlight under the chin to spook up these campfire tales. [Mar 2006, p.95]

The Haunted Man is her weightiest work so far.

On the lovely Bright and Vivid, a more accomplished sequel to last year's Are You My Mother?, she masters the art of hiding in plain sight, concealing a sweetly sad voice in soft clouds of pretty noise.

Far from a diminishing return, Timeless is the sound of a master getting back into the groove and finding his muse burning bright as ever.

The duo are too consistently subdued, and without their usual spectacle, Seventh Tree veers perilously close to dull. [Mar 2008, p.102]

[It's] mostly a very good album, but the concept betrays the end listening experience, leaving the unshakable feeling that it could've been a six-track EP, not an over-padded full album.

Demolished Thoughts is a noisenik's idea of California dreaming; it's also the acoustic record Sonic Youth fans always knew this vintage psychedelia superfan had in him.

The album’s escapism is alarmingly potent, to the point where it verges into the downright delusional, but its lack of self-consciousness is--somewhat ironically--the thing that keeps it in check.

Blissed-out and surreal, featuring queasy slides between loud and soft, it's a work of patient design and bloody fantasy. Brutal beauty abounds, but for the first time, Deftones are imitating rather than exploring.

Shorter track lengths and thoughtful sequencing help Body Pill come off not as a series of sketches, but rather a tasting menu of Naples’ musical talents that’s satisfying even after multiple spins.

There's something exhilarating in listening to her think out loud--the sureness of her songwriting battling the part of her brain that knows the song will never be enough.

Sounds like the morning after, confused and calm all at once. [Jan 2005, p.100]

Carried To Dust's songs travel a trail that seems carved out of ancient echoes. [Sep 2008, p.114]

Each sound lingers, and each stretched-out moment is welcome. [Nov 2007, p.114]