The execution falls vexingly short of ambition, principally because a little of Darnielle's limited voice goes a long way. But the best of the songs are great. [May 2011, p.93]

A discordant, but strangely beautiful, experiment from the outer fringes of pop. [May 2011, p.93]

Alas, it often sounds like hollow noise--but improves when he warms down. [May 2011, p.92]

Clever, costly videos prove the couple painfully hip, but close your eyes and it could be Mel & Kim. [May 2011, p.91]

Apocalypse is a wild thing which dances from one side of that line [between brilliant and bizarre] to the other with never-less-than-compelling abandon. [May 2011, p.89]

They produce strong enough tunes to make their act more than just a celebration of kitsch. [May 2011, p.88]

Curdled cuts of lover's R&B are oddly beguiling, but best are the dancier cuts like "Warlord," a blissful excursion in strobing percussion and luxurious, frothy synths. [May 2011, p.88]

It's a partially successful approach that starts promisingly with the disco trust of "Never Let Me go" and "Night People," but the plodding tempo begins to drag, and by "Single Minded" the listener feels worn out. [May 2011, p.88]

It's confounding at first, but the more you strain to hear, the more Krell reels you in. [May 2011, p.88]

It's one of the most straight-up enjoyable records they've put out in a long time. [May 2011, p.88]

It's a lovely document of Higgins' loose, rambling songs. [May 2011, p.88]

Alexander isn't far off great. [May 2011, p.86]

The real problem is the corporate production--the cleaner and slicker it gets, the flatter each song sounds. [May 2011, p.86]

Occasionally, though, the songs resemble fragments of poetry, signifying little more than unfocused emotions, with Diane undecided about whether to be pretty or strange. [May 2011, p.82]

This is departure lounge pop--antiseptic, pleasant, with Photoshopped pics of exotic locales scattered around, but none of the hedonism of actually being there. [May 2011, p.82]

Cherish The Light Years is more accomplished, refashioning vintage Mute Records sounds into widescreen pop. [May 2011, p.80]

The band must from time to time stray from their stomping ground of doomed sailors and pining maidens, but one hopes the band will not steer too close to plain old indie rock. [May 2011, p.96]

The King of Limbs passes like a breeze, and has you skipping back to the start as soon as the final track fades out. [May 2011, p.90]

It feels like an extended hymn to his home state. [May 2011, p.92]

Yes, Paper Airplanes is mindful of the past. But it's never held back by it. [May 2011, p.92]

Yet vocal gymnastics cannot compensate for an unmemorable set of tunes. [May 2011, p.91]

"Try To Sleep" and the Kool Keith quoting "Witches" are songs that join classics in their cannon. [May 2011, p.91]

What follows is the most overblown album in recent memory, every song instantly hitting the "big Music" button without giving the listener a chance to become acquainted. [May 2011, p.87]

It lacks many truly original hooks, but this is a nice updating of Count Five-style psych menace to file with fellow lo-fi '60s revivalists like King Khan and Dum Dum Girls. [May 2011, p.82]

The result is a record that demands to live not in some mythologised '80s, but in the here and now. [May 2011, p.81]

Nine Types Of Light suggest they're settling in nicely. [May 2011, p.78]

Their literate, grandly melancholic '80s-influenced rock rarely transcends familiar reference points, but Lou Hill is a passionate, distinctive vocalist. [Apr 2011, p.103]

Not radically reinventive, then, but Vessels deserve to keep their foothold on the post-rock face. [Apr 2011, p.100]