By expanding their repertoire, taking a few risks, and nailing those harmonies, they’ve made what feels like the first great British album of 2009.

Jigsaw finds the diminutive London rapper shorter on cheek than on her early singles, and the moments of mischief, when they come, ring a little hollow. [Jun 2009, p.90]

If that person favours the smoking, ragged garage rock that comprises the bulk of Fork In The Road, then you’d have to conclude, job done.

A grown-up record that hints at a more excitable wayward past. [May 2009, p.91]

As a State of the Union address, this bold and often brilliant record is less inclined towards optimism than, say, Springsteen’s admirable "Working On A Dream."

This lolls with a neat mix of languor and subtle urgency through the kind of smart/funk The Beloved mastered 20 years ago. [Jun 2009, p.90]

Now We Can See feels a sunnier listen, bracing indie-rock with few frills but a joyfully juvenile energy and choruses to spare. [Jun 2009, p.103]

Crucially, it always feels as if Crystal Antlers are having a blast, continually cold-shouldering the obvious and pushing each other to the limits of their musicianship and beyond. [May 2009, p.87]

Elliott is better at world-weariness than he is at sass, but has enough guile to mould the songs in his own image.

It resembles The Boredoms in its sense of sonic bravery, although the suspicion lingers that more focus is required before they can produce another record of the calibre of 2002's "Beaches And Canyons." [May 2009, p.79]

Self-indulgent in all the best ways, their third album isn't afraid to explore an idea for nine minutes, locating that revelatory moment when structure caves into soul. [May 2009, p.105]

Lerner's voice--pale and uninteresting, rather than poinant--allow his songs to sag. [Sep 2009, p.96]

A Positive Rage is something of a misnomer, since hardcore fury rates low on the Steady agenda. More crucial is the band’s 3-D storytelling on muscular guitars, and Craig Finn’s traditional chat about joy in the encore.

Swift's stock-in-trade remains droll, gently roistering piano songs, mostly indebted to Harry Nilsson. [May 2009, p.97]

Driven by two drummers they owe much to the styles of Fucked Up, The Dillinger Escape Plan and Torche, but on 'Black Wax' they apply the brakes, revealing a surprising amount of melodic, colle-rock bounce. [May 2009, p.82]

It painstakingly captures the carefree spirit of hard rock as you'd have found it halfway down the bill a Reading Rock, 1998. [Apr 2009, p.78]

Despite its obvious debt to the ’80s and its (appreciated) nods to the trio’s own past, it’s their most modern, innovative record yet.

Together, Harvey and Parish sound confidently experimental, like two soldiers daring each other to ever more stupendous feats of history.

With so many bases cases covered, there's something for young folks and old folks--even if suspicious folks will still need some convincing. [Apr 2009, p.93]

A so-so collection of lushly orchestrated Brazilian bossa novas and ballads that unite Mrs. Costello with Frank Sinatra's arranger claus Ogerman. [Apr 2009, p.82]

Hints of "The Basement Tapes" glimmer through pieces like 'Win Park Slope' or 'Airstream Driver,' while John Martyn and Nick Drake ride again in the mystic folkery of 'Little Pieces.' [May 2009, p.86]

An uncommonly thoughtful victory lap, which deserves--and has received--a handsome recorded memorial.

Rules finds The Whitest Boy Alive turning noticeably paler, peddling a shade of Ralph Lauren yacht-rock that would make Hall & Oates blush. [May 2009, p.105]

This stellar set is anchored by existential bar-band thumper 'Just About Time' and 'homeland Refugees.' [May 2009, p.86]

What Labyrinthes lacks in instant anthems, it makes up for in rich melodies, grand orchestration, and blooming arrangements, that stop short of bombast. [Jun 2009, p.92]

At its peaks, it remains bracing in its intensity. But between climatic passages defined by Nathan Weaver's hoarse roar and stern batteries of kickdrum, the band seems to recede into misty, ambient washes that are engaging in their heavy melancholy. [Apr 2009, p.105]

While too soft for the dancefloor, songs like :weak For me" don't scrimp on the songcraft. [Nov 2009, p.96]

Fans of Iron & Wine and The Acorn take note. [Jun 2009, p.96]