Somewhere in Asphalt For Eden is buried beautiful music. [Jun 2016, p.62]

There is a resounding thinness to Purple Naked Ladies and its finest moments sound like a collection of scratch tracks from a lost Erykah Badu/Neptunes session circa 1998. [Mar 2012, p.54]

New material is conspicuous by its absence, and several shambolic passages indicate that the band barely managed to rehearse, let alone write songs. [Jul 2017, p.58]

He telegraphs all too simplistic rhymes schemes and rarely offers subject matter beyond deeply cliched braggadocio. He's rapping like he doesn't want to be there. [Oct 2010, p.67]

The music veers between between a kind of funk slop with trippy organ squelches and good ol' fashioned rawk with biblical overtones, It feels a little like drowning in a bath of Jack Daniels, but not in a good way. [Sep 2010, p.53]

Explicit references to surrealism and Japanese ambient, alongside DJ Screw and Jodorowsky, read as clumsy and uncritical homages to tired tropes and cliches, which ultimately serve a tactless and indulgent end. [Nov 2018, p.63]

It pains me to think they’d record something so vacant and unneeded. Maybe 30 years ago this would have been a different album. But here and now, Two To One is a case of too little, too late. [Jan 21, p.82]

There's being reflective and then there's navel-gazing, and unfortunately Alopecia is too frequently guilty of the latter to really engage either the mind or heart. [Apr 2008, p.66]

A sense of cluelessness pervades these songs, as though constructed without considering why or for whom they were intended. [Jun 2014, p.51]

Songs like "Brainfreeze" and "The Red Wing" plod more than march, piling on so many competing keyboard layers that the melody blots itself out. Others seem oddly unfinished. Only the two closing ten minute tracks evoke the classic Fuck Buttons widescreen neon pomp. [Jul 2013, p.56]

A Better Tomorrow feels trapped by history, an impotent reflection versus a proposed resurrection. [Jan 2015, p.65]

Still sounds like the work of someone desperate to gain the approval of the Drag City clique. [#215, p.69]

Chosen topics prove less crucial than his relentlessly tedious delivery. [Feb 2018, p.51]

The next person who decides to write a book on Miles Davis, or agrees to play him in a movie, will find this set invaluable. But for the casual Davis fan, it’s bound to be a bore and a chore. [Nov 2016, p.76]

He's frozen in time, still rapping in an emaciated wheeze and overemphasizing his emotionless and cringe-inducing wordplay. [Aug 2011, p.69]

MBM's wholehearted embracing of the familiar is stronger than ever, erasing any freshness or innovation, and cancelling out all distinguishing features. [#226, p.72]

Without the strength of material to prompt the question of whether Byrne should be taken at face value or not, the songs on Look Into The Eyeball simply glide by unobtrusively, and Byrne's romantic sentiments start to sound like Paul McCartney at his blandest. [#208, p.53]

[By "We Dream Free"] it all starts to loosen up and swing a bit more. But even here it ends up treading water. [#269, p.42]

A collection of slow, moody pieces whose unexceptional nature is made more frustrating by the occasional flashes of inspiration. [#206, p.77]

Uncomfortable deliery and thin lyrical content suggest that utilising vocals isn't their strong suit. [#223, p.69]

Finding Iggy as confused as ever, Beat 'Em up ranks alongside New Values and Blah, Blah, Blah as yet another missed opportunity. (#209, p.60)

Intermittently pretty, massively inconsequential. [#215, p.69]

Most of the vocals elsewhere are unintelligible, blurred between endless layers of patchworked echolalia or overlaid with metal grid sheen and a mesh of hissing and crunching, skittering beats far removed from any sense of body based, physically entrained rhythm. But ultimately it’s just a shonkier version of the cut-ups and vocal splices Herndon’s been working with since her 2014 12" Chorus. [May 2019, p.52]

His cartoonish vocals remain charmless, his lyrics as tediously self-referential as ever. [Oct 2017, p.57]

"Miss Lucifer"... [is] the first of many tracks on Evil Heat that cross rock 'n' roll and electro, only to get Sigue Sigue Sputnik. [#223, p.61]

Mosaic Thump lives up to its name only too well, displaying a fragmentary mess of rhyming schemes, contributing artists and leaden beats. [#199, p.45]

More than a covers album, this is a cathartic reminder of pop’s revolutionary power. [Oct 2021, p.55]

What might have been an interesting exploration of Industrial Lite Pop gets spoiled time and again by badly rewired breakbeats and fussy electronic background chatter. [#201, p.66]