Their micro-programmed folk has worn thin due to imitators. [Jul/Aug 2005, p.107]

Superfluous, the extra weight drains the raw intensity of the Furnaces’ famed live show and often leaves Remember sounding like a cheaply recorded album, rather than a live celebration.

If we're to accuse Chemical Brothers of anything, it's trying to set a lofty new bar in the style they themselves created, and that no one else seems to be working anymore. [Sep/Oct 2007, p.128]

Unfortunately, after six mightily exciting originals, the disc wanders into remix territory.

T3's iconistic delivery and Elzhi's endearing and logistically strong raps hold it down, and collaborations shine brilliantly. [Jul/Aug 2004, p.126]

It's nice to see Tha Liks are still vintage 1993 flavor. [Mar 2006, p.112]

Black Dice continues to produce highly interesting music, no doubt, but be warned that it’s not for the faint of heart or imagination.

The record is just as uneven as the original and perhaps that's just the right way to pay homage. [Nov 2006, p.128]

Thirty years into their collaboration, Underworld's Rick Smith and Karl Hyde continue to sit at the forefront of dance music innovation. Barking is just further proof that Underworld isn't going anywhere.

Fine song craft and distinct vocals still shine. [Mar 2006, p.122]

A failed merger of trip-hop's smoky grooves and psychedelic rock's galactic textures. [Mar 2003, p.94]

With a brand new sound, rich production, and a palpable sense of growth, graduation has come, and Kidz in the Hall have officially earned their degree in unadulterated artistry.

With partner Panda One, they unleash a concoction of soul, electronica and disco that’s occasionally bizarre, but consistently funky.

Tongues is a shorter, tighter set of songs that retains the pair's reckless spirit of improvisation and experimentation. [Apr 2007, p.104]

Beauty comes in all forms, even if it might be over our heads. [Oct 2005, p.76]

The Saints' talent seems lost in the mix as they fall victim to their signature technique and sound. [Sep 2001, p.154]

The fractious tension producer [Barlow] normally whips up to counter [Rhodes] is almost completely absent, thus allowing the run of tracks to discreetly slide off into the background. [Mar 2004, p.110]

Putnam's longing voice and rusty guitar strum easily envisions a rustic dwelling, yet their studio strengths reveal a Pink Floyd fetish. [Jun 2005, p.85]

No one can deny the Los Angeles group's enthusiasm. However as for Mika Miko's album, their creativity seems numbed by monotonous repetition.

So who cares if Esser is clearly a product of his environment, right down to the post-Millennial Morrisey pompadour. Put him in line with several decades of British music that will always satisfy the NME reader within.

It's mighty moody stuff for a debut, but it's carried off just right. [Nov 2004, p.100]

Though it's a letdown to revisit [the five EP cuts] in place of new material, "Those Were the Days," "My England" and "Love Me or Hate Me" make up for it largely. [Oct 2006, p.115]

Throughout the disc, Lavalle shows great ability to craft soundscapes that demand attention through their subtleties. [Sep 2006, p.131]

Her return to electro-pop form on Aphrodite–Minogue's 11th studio record in 23 years–is on point, maybe even better, than much of her discography.

Berlin's long-running tendency toward grit-glitz, which musicians from Bowie to Peaches have channeled in their work, is the inspiration for this fourth record of functional fun.

A solid [re]introduction to the scene. [Sep 2002, p.106]

With Everything She Touched Turned Ampexian, not only has the frustratingly prolific Guillermo Scott Herren delivered a blinding banger of a record, he’s upped the game that appeared indomitable on 2003’s "One Word Extinguisher."

Were the House of Gryffindor to stage a theatrical adapation of "Castlevania III," co-scored by Danny Elfman circa "Edward Scissorhands," it might sound like this fourth bobbing full-length by Iceland's glitchy naifs mum. [Sep/Oct 2007, p.129]