When The Streets gets lazy, he becomes less of an artist and more like a novelty. [May 2006, p.80]

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

It's a lot of wicked, loud noise, and if that's your thing, this is your record. [Jun 2004, p.84]

Too bad they bring nothing new to the fold. [Dec 2004, p.118]

Far from forgettable, Black Cherry falls a bit short of the sum of its parts but is valuable for its more daring numbers. [#104, p.96]

Coxon finally seems to be coming into his own. [Mar 2005, p.111]

Love her or hate her, Between My Head And The Sky isn't terrible. Yoko Ono is still in the game, and if it's possible to find a deeper meaning to lyrics like "Why is [the elephant] so big/ He says because you're small honey," then more power to her.

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

Nomad is ambient music for beatheads in need of a record to clear their minds to, or dance music for new age lovers.

The tunes are taunt and chipper and the instrumentation is full and flirty as promised. But their tunefulness falls into question with these ears.

Great Northern may not have learned the art of being musically economical, but perhaps their greatest strength lies in their maximalist tendencies.

Polysics' contorted robotones are so hot they should spew from volcanoes. [Apr 2006, p.97]

Rounding out the record with the 15+ minute 'Sequenced,' we're dropped back into the slow catatonia exhibited earlier on--and while this is a perfectly nice place to visit for a quarter of an hour, it may leave you yearning for The Field's previous world of sublime

The songs have parts that are memorable but your finger is always on the advance button. Overall, pretty good but could use some editing and improvement.

There's only so many times the melodic power chords of guitarist Mike Stroud can graze the quarantined beats of programmer Evan Mast before the combination begins to rust. [Sep 2006, p.142]

Their tried and true formula does wear thin in parts, as it always does, but there are enough creative wrinkles in this album to warrant repeat listens and contemplation.

The addition of elegiac, slower songs ensure that this post-punk quarter is only moving forward. [Oct 2005, p.85]

With many songs over four minutes and often consisting of blantantly stoned self-indulgent "jams," some trimming is needed.

Depressing? Slightly, but there's something cathartic here. [May 2006, p.95]

This albums isn't as infectious as "You're A Woman, I'm A Machine," but who cares? Grainger didn't make it for DFA fans. [Nov/Dec 2008, p.85]

Eccentricity is what defines Grampall Jookabox and their sophomore effort Ropechain, but that doesn’t make it any less listenable. In fact, Ropechain has its fair share of fine musical moments that actually benefit from the bizarre tendencies of the group.

This is not a bad record, just not what the game needed from De La at the moment.

What begins brillantly gets dismal to the point where it lacks the eclectic Cajun spice, a taste definitely required to stew up a truly heady gumbo. [Sep 2007, p.128]

Because the sound is based on repetition, yet it bounces off every wall it touches, the album can be like a bad trip inside the mind of a schizophrenic and new listeners may not be ready, but for the others who’ve supported the band in the past, it can be a welcome respite from the sound they’re used to.

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

Get Awkward showcases a sound reliant on the push and pull between a band whose middle ground is fun.

Scream may be the most compelling train wreck of an album in recent memory.

A complex, avant-garde amalgamation of styles for only the most adventurous ears. [Aug 2002, p.116]