It may not be the psychedelic mind-warps that the Chemicals usually offer up, but it is an excellent debut and delivers the tunes we were hoping for earlier in 2002.

From Every Sphere is frequently let down by Harcourt’s mediocre songwriting.

The Unicorns’ schtick isn’t very difficult to see through; they’re grown adults writing children’s songs for grown adults.

An interesting, good album: more inventive, heavy, meaningful, and memorable than the Veils’ first.

The Maginot Line has a title almost as dreary and foreboding as The North Sea had, a sense of vast futility and inescapable fate, and like that first album, the title belies the often bright and sparkling parts of the music.

The difference... between For the Season and Gris Gris’s debut album is that the detours are less frequent and less distracting.

Once you vacuum out the fluff there’s barely half an album left.

Being Ridden is not a great album, because these kinds rarely are. Kidwell’s vision is born of confusion and disarray, so it’s only natural that his art would follow suit.

Sonic Nurse, if not proof of a band bursting with fresh ideas, is at least fresh-sounding.

No longer does he sound on the verge of breakdown with every aching syllable, no more pent-up jadedness---this is pure, cheerful post-orgasmic clarity.

As with much of her past work, it’s almost embarrassingly human, sometimes sounding too close to you to believe it’s not your own.

Where the debut sounded like a drunken nihilist romp, Castle sounds like an artistic presentation of a drunken nihilist romp.

Review 1: <A HREF="http://www.stylusmagazine.com/review.php?ID=1418" TARGET="_blank">This is what they do- they don’t ape other bands. They ape pop music. And they do it better than any other band right now.</A> [score=80]; Review 2: <A HREF="http://www.stylusmagazine.com/review.php?ID=1419" TARGET="_blank">33 minutes and 34 seconds of the SAME album!</A> [score=65]

While the record is surely Tweedy&#146;s most experimental to date, it&#146;s also, amazingly enough, his most lighthearted. In the end, this is both the gift and curse of Loose Fur, in band and album form.

Califone has worked, skillfully, with all of these styles and sounds before, but they’ve never left the table with a more realized, delicate treatment.

This is a lovingly crafted compilation that not only represents the raw live power of PJ Harvey but also tips a cap to John Peel and the raw power his sessions had on performers.

Idealism has some fun with memorable new electro (“The Pulse,” “Home Zone,” “Idealistic”) and nu-rave cuts (“I Want I Want,” “Pogo”). But these guys can’t possibly think fans will believe this fifteen-track behemoth, mostly lacking in subtlety and invention, is the big party they half-seriously claim it to be, over and over and over again.

Cryptograms is by no means a flawless record, but taking the time to speak its language, tap into the dueling forces that make it tick, is an intriguing reward.

The Furnaces&#146; brand of sonic mayhem may not be for everyone, but there are rewards for those who dare take the plunge.

A boringly functional record full of tediously average songwriting.

Everything Ecstatic provides an enjoyable listen, but it also sounds as much like a groping as a declaration.

The finest Matmos record to date.

An underdeveloped and frail album.

Parades, both restrained and wildly dramatic, gently touching and warmly enveloping, is not a record that sits comfortably with convenient labels.

Ex Hex does have some problems, but they are minor in comparison to the thrill of hearing Timony rock out again.

The music from the Envelopes’ first LP, Demon, is so loose and frivolous it feels like the Swedish group wasn’t even aware that the mics were hot.

You almost get the sense Leo must be embarrassed by how good his last record sounds, opting instead to appease some imaginary punk ethic to the detriment of his songs.

A showcase of a band who have learned lessons and improved upon them, quietly getting better and better until something really special emerges.