Sure, emo bands cry over their myriad problems all the time, many of which are delivered either as mopey confessionals or with Gerard Way-ian gothenticity, but rarely are they so post-apocalyptic.

Viewfinder might not have any hard answers, but it does find a kind of ambiguous truth that lies beyond the perceptible.

Though they fit snugly inside their vintage genes, the Kings manage to make room for a surprising amount of heart. [Mar 2005, p.85]

Pretty Girls believe in anthems, which would be irritating if they didn't make you believe, too. [Oct 2003, p.107]

Amid the hasty scribbles and marooned, half-finished concepts, there are lots of seeds and stems. [Jul 2005, p.101]

[A] potentially polarizing mash note.

Blueprint reminds us that retro hip-hop is always better when it remembers laughter. [Dec 2003, p.128]

For what it's worth, Hypnotize is the project's better half. [Dec 2005, p.102]

As with Watermelon, Chicken, the album drags; still, it's a compelling ride. [Oct 2003, p.110]

Definitely not as funny or crazy as they think they are, but problably more than they need to be. [Apr 2005, p.108]

The Wolf works best as a concept album about never surrendering the night when you got your first real six-string at the five-and-dime and were tryin' to break free. [Oct 2003, p.108]

It includes some of the most thoughtful music of Eminem's career, and some of the butt-stupidest, and while there's a lot to like about both, the album feels transitional and muddled. [Jan 2005, p.95]

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]

Sound[s] like Prince cutting the ass out of Squarepusher's pants. [Aug 2005, p.103]

This is grade-A grade-B pop metal. [Oct 2004, p.120]

It's a little creepy hearing such adolescent voices hooked to Miami booty bass. [Aug 2003, p.116]

The best bummer-country band of this sucky century. [Dec 2005, p.107]

Suggests a gullier Cocteau Twins. [May 2004, p.108]

Mount Kimbie are letting their songs smolder into life’s discontent. That uncomfortable tension is The Sunset Violent’s beauty.

For all their sonic salad-tossing, Tortoise can't fade guitarist Jeff Parker, the band's secret weapon and the one dude whose instrument connects them explicitly to their college-radio roots. [May 2004, p.107]

Sonically, Morissette has hit a peak. [Jun 2004, p.109]

A little swing moves these songs along in otherwise unobscured directions. [Nov 2005, p.101]

In the end, like her hero Loretta Lynn, she's the good girl who done got complex. [Dec 2004, p.123]

With Black Thought carrying the weight, the record buckles. [Aug 2004, p.101]

Mellow rhymes and chunky beats. [Aug 2004, p.108]

Instead of the poppy makeover many anticipated, the Mobb's seventh album is a curious blend of gunz-money anthems, G-Unit-ized sex romps, and visions of the great beyond.

A moving listen, despite patches of redundancy. [Oct 2004, p.111]

Ideal Lives is an uneven record, at times frustratingly so, but it is also the sound of a band finding out just what they are capable of, and falling in love with it.