In spite of the giddy playfulness, it never comes off as a lark. You’ll get no closer to ascertaining his actual identity, but as the balance between jokes and earnest emoting narrows, Sold Out presents something of an abstract portrait of the man behind the haze.

In a scant 30-plus minutes, Modern Guilt modestly proves that it's still restlessness, both artistic and personal, that drives the only living boy in Los Angeles.

It's familiar, sure, but Kingdom of Rust has a welcome warmth.

Her sophomore disc hardly sounds like something dashed off between higher-profile gigs: Sardonic chamber-folk gems such as "Tower Song" and "You Cheated Me" (in which she tells a lover to "run your scared little ass down the block") offer lyrical and sonic detail for days.

Two years later, our Canadian antiheroes return with something deeper than digital histrionics and crazily infectious beats.

What the album lacks in focus, it makes up for in sheer listenability.

The Melodic Blue has little else in common with The Massacre, but the former’s fascination with the latter may help to map out the sprawl of his debut studio album. ... Throughout the project, Keem’s production is often as bold as his lyrics.

It's a jumble. But Albarn's love of "Waterloo Sunset" poignancy adds emotional weight.

When they get the balance right (yes, that reference is from '83) and filter those desires through their own distinct sensibilities, Divine Fits stands with their best work.

6 Feet, like Me Moan before it, succeeds sometimes in spite of itself.

Fantasies is a welcome return, but it's not without flaws.

This four-CD live box is so raw that you can almost see the twisting, sinewy torso and smell the sweat and peanut butter, as the sonic levels constantly push into the red.

The big shift on his beautifully recorded, intermittently moving fourth album under the Sun Kil Moon moniker is that only his nylon-string guitar plucking now accompanies his wounded croon.

Jealous Machines tends in a darker, more modernist direction. On Lese Majesty, Shabazz Palaces leaned towards the indulgent, with a scattershot track sequence that was heavy on under-developed ideas bordering on interludes. This time, Butler and Maraire tighten their focus even as they serve up twice as much music.

By facing down the exhausting nature of depression and loneliness (seriously, Coyne sounds so depleted that he can barely muster the dejection to sing, and yes, that's a compliment), the Lips have retroactively strengthened their entire artistic credo.

There are a few lulls in which the band seems to be capably but perfunctorily going through the motions. (Raspy cheerleader vocals; cheeky rhythms; chunky, anthemic guitars—we get it!) But they’re outnumbered by the more inspired stuff.

[They] up the theater-major quotient. [Apr 2006, p.91]

The thought and vision tucked into these constructions are inexhaustibly fun to listen to and unpack.

Will ultimately is a record about going places, even if it takes its sweet time. Uninterested in either Point A or Point B, Will is happy to just drift about in the in-between.

Emo kids, hold your heads: An Eminem you can call your own is on line one. [Apr 2003, p.107]

Northern State's skills and we-can-do-this exuberance transcend what otherwise might be shtick. [Aug 2003, p.116]

Nada Surf face everyday life's cacophony with a pleasant, unfaltering, even surgary approach. [Feb 2008, p.96]

On Far Side Virtual, he makes a glowing, glossy album out of everyday digital detritus.

He doesn't stray far from his main band's template. [Oct 2007, p.108]

The lower-key approach pays off here. [Sep 2007, p.138]

Broke With Expensive Taste is a project dripping in confidence, class, bursts of brilliance, and personality.

[He] still knows how to make palpitating street anthems. [May 2006, p.91]

Recording new material live in a series of concerts with his longtime road band is the best idea Thompson's had since he ditched soul-muting '90s producer Mitchell Froom.