A much more consistent and coherent album, equaling Gorillaz’s high points and easily besting its shortcomings.

The ridiculous in-the-red ruckus keeps you from noticing how hokey and contradictory the lyrics are.

With the Fiery Furnaces bringing indie-prog rigmarole back in fashion, Face The Truth might get a little more love than Pig Lib did, despite being the same album with a few more fart sounds.

Criticising this album because you’re not a teenager is like criticising inhalers just because you don’t have asthma. This may not be for you, but when it hits stride it’s impossible not to get caught up in it.

So frustrating then, for such a multitalented rapper, to have his supposed magnum opus weak, stale, and far more aged than we’d expect.

The quality level is almost inhumanly high, and the range of the tracks here gives you a better idea of what the band is like than any of their individual albums.

Without relying on a crutch of irony and cynicism, they boldly risk sounding cloying in order to summon the emotional honesty necessary to create music that is unabashedly romantic and achingly beautiful.

Honkytonk University is one missed opportunity after another.

A record that positively teems with gleeful personality.

“Wires” does grow in stature with familiarity through radio exposure, and “Trading Air” could easily have the same kind of airplay success, but I can’t understand the mindset of anyone who’d want to play them over and over again when so many other, more exciting and intriguing things exist.

I’ll always give credit for trying something new, but I’d expect a bit more from Electrelane after the strength of their prior album.

Each song glows with infinitesimal joys, tiny pointillist production flourishes noticeable only under close scrutiny. But in rounding out their sound, they brought the viewer close enough to see the brushstrokes and the smudges.

Make Believe seems so simple compared to [Weezer's] other albums.

Aside from the token bummer track, the rest of the album is as stupid fun as stupid fun gets.

There’s nothing groundbreaking here, and this record could very well sound sickeningly syrupy come December, but Hal have found a way of reflecting the sun from a time when it wasn’t quite so poisonous.

Despite the overbearing length and the sometimes lazy lyrics, Kidnapped by Neptune is a strong release in a year of strong releases.

This record is worth having, but offers little more than a slow orbiting tour of familiar Boredoms territory.

13&God represents less a marriage of rock and rap than it does a meeting of weird with slightly-less-weird.

Perhaps less transcendent, The Milk of Human Kindness may ultimately prove more enjoyable.

Finally--a Go-Betweens album with the clarinet solos, harmonies, programmed drums, and splendor this band needs. Oceans Apart really sounds bright yellow and bright orange.

Finn is a decidedly great lead non-singer, and because of this, he has to rely on brainy, culture-referencing wordage as opposed to impressive melodic style or range. Fortunately, his banter rarely disappoints, even if it is a little repetitive at times.

Current yet sounding potentially classic already... Reznor forces himself further into the mainstream with With Teeth--but on his own terms.

The Wedding has some slow tracks, but they’re greatly outnumbered by winners that leap over a baffling range of musical styles.

The larger scope of the album bodes well for The Raveonettes... [but] it’s a shame that there are several clunkers mixed with such strong material.

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

Features some of Madlib’s most difficult and most accomplished production work to date.

The best numbers show Hart gaining subtle confidence as a composer without feeling the need to break the mold completely.

Maybe their edge was lost in the lukewarm production. Maybe it was lost in Barney’s lyrics, which are as utterly meaningless as they have been for years now. Maybe it was just lost altogether.