Remarkably, the songs on Avalanche are nearly as good as the ones on Illinois, although with surprising synth bursts and craggy guitar noise that were sandpapered off of its predecessor. [Aug 2006, p.79]

Their creepy, absorbing third album brims with the brittle pop practiced by everyone from Sparks to Arcade Fire. [Nov. 2007, p.125]

Kensington Heights is a mixed bag of aesthetically correct placeholders. [May 2008, p[.98]

Milky Ways is a clear upgrade, with better songwriting lending structure to his adventurous genre-hopping.

Trash has its moments. [Mar 2008, p.106]

There's enough promise here to rattle more cages soon. [Jun 2007, p.94]

Rise Against's strident anti-ignorance messages have coursed through several albums of tightly wound, good-intentions punk.

Schmersal's guitar artfully complements the melodies, instead of screeching to compete with them. [Nov 2007, p.118]

Regardless of the catalyst, Chelsea Light Moving is an entirely successful test of Moore’s post-breakup mettle.

Deeper than anything she's delivered before, Aaliyah's a hard record; almost never does a song roll over and beg to be loved. This makes the yielding moments all the sweeter. [Aug 2001, p.130]

Always charmingly dour and deathlessly romantic. [Jul 2003, p.110]

Evokes Bjork as a Latina wallflower, sketching gossamer balladry with acoustic guitar and oddball synths. [Jun 2004, p.108]

The wonderful Street Songs of Love brightens slightly without losing intensity.

By nature the album highlights their aesthetic differences, but at no point makes a strong argument for their separation. Still, it’s a bit of an awkward listen, with each of the three discs displaying obvious charms but none following through on its promise completely.

Though his global messages aren't particularly deep, his skilled, spirited execution sets him apart from other peacenik troubadours. [Oct 2007, p.101]

The British trio's caffinated, smart-ass guitar pop only underscores that aura of snarky confidence. [May 2008, p.111]

The Devil's Walk creates a compelling mix of programming virtuosity, songcraft, and plaintive vocals, with spastic blips fluttering amid languid string washes, while a 
mechanical scrim obscures and accentuates the underlying emotions.

Sounds terrible, yet these guys attack tracks like "Sell Yourself" with so much pent-up energy that Shultz ends up selling his crackpot ideas.

The songs drag in the middle, choruses become interchangeable, and too many tracks end with the same electronic stuttering. [May 2007, p.84]

His supporting cast has stabilized around multi-instrumentalists Emmett Kelly and Shahzad Ismaily, but song structures dissolve altogether on Wolfroy Goes to Town.

Trading in easy recognition/gratification, the barrage grows as dizzyingly nostalgic as Oz's tornado. [Sep 2008, p.116]

Stapleton is looser, bolder and surer of himself, a recipe making this his best project yet.

Think the Postal Service gone yoga or an un-self-conscious James Taylor gone minimal techno. [Feb 2007, p.85]

Clearly, it’s also a druggy album, and the highs are high--noticeably on “L$D,” whose stunning production turns from submerged to soaring, the jiggy “Excuse Me,” and the sexy, aforementioned “Westside Highway,” which has A.L.L.A.’s only hummable hook. Despite those peaks, the overall tone is more despondent.

Depression Cherry’s particular non-specifics feel as full of breath and life as anything they’ve ever done--an album-length sigh as eloquent as a manifesto.

Like Seinfeld, as New York a document as Paul's Boutique, Quack presents itself as a comedy about nothing. But Seinfeld's nihilism, as a portrait of the neuroses of a certain class in a certain era, at least represented a kind of ethos (pace Walter Sobchak). Duck Sauce's "brain farts," on the other hand, take refuge in the idea that if you stand for nothing, you can't be held accountable for anything.

The luminous All Things Will Unwind uses strings, brass, marimba, and mellotron, brilliantly showcasing her operatic, slightly scary voice in tricky songs that remain fresh after repeated plays.

In all respects, Strangers is about coming to terms with one’s situation, and what it lacks in blind hope it makes up for with thoughtful consideration. That care is what assures the record’s grace and splendor.