It's that very punk rock-gone-underground-dance spirit that separates Swayzak's latest from the more rudimentary electro-art pack. [Oct 2002, p.98]

Love, Hate, and Then There’s You may not be a sign of the band’s growth, but it succeeds in capturing what the Von Bondies are and have been best at.

He delivers for fans of every persuasion without losing grip on his ghetto past in the least--no easy feat. [Dec 2004, p.112]

A welcome back. [Mar 2006, p.123]

This UK duo's second album has lost some of the poppy jangle found on their debut. But it is replaced with grander harmonies and gauzier production, making this smooth as John Oat's bare upper lip these days.

Treasure's aggressive style deftly balances Cad Petree's more melodic side, and sees the band straddling the line between insistent, hard-hitting rock and Coldplay-esque balladry. [Nov/Dec 2008, p.87]

An album that hardcore fans will appreciate but isn't likely to help garner any new followers.

The lyrics are largely uncomplicated musings about disastrous love and lust but the band manages to broaden its musical style without compromising its core identity. A solid next step in the band's evolution and not a bad listen either.

Techno-oriented tracks like “Fire” and “Divebomb, while serviceable forays into the genre, sound out of place and disrupt the lilting momentum of the record. However, these slight missteps are are not enough to ruin a solid first effort from a band that is an undoubtedly promising addition to the dance-rock canon.

Hecksher may not have Yorke’s falsetto or vast vocal range, but his delivery is sincere, almost as if each word is a plea to understand his expression. Hecksher’s melancholic state on The Mirror Explodes forces one to sympathize, and ultimately connect with each instrument as its own entity.

We know everything about Marshall Mathers...and on Relapse, he leaves Marshall behind. Instead, he embodies characters that we know aren't him, but allow him to re-channel the shock-and-awe rebellion (and skill) that made him great in the first place.

While they have been slowly inching in the direction of a purer pop record post-"Simple Things," Binns and Hardaker seem to have finally found their stride.

It's the challenge of hearing Amanda claw her way through relentless electro barrages in an effort to deliver her heartfelt lyrics, that makes tracks like 'DJ' or the melancholy 'Leaving You Behind' (which is assisted by Lykke Li's haunting vocals) some of the most unexpectedly personable material to come out of Diplo's party-centric clique.

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

Throw in some straight, viscerally melodic vocals and a few cool, smart, electro-pop and digi-funk sing-alongs and you have a classic four-song EP--if not an entire album. [Sep/Oct 2007, p.129]

[A] rather perplexing, albeit tame ride. [Mar 2006, p.118]

TCM has become utterly irrelevant. [Feb 2004, p.78]

Fist of God is surprisingly decent if you can manage to divorce it from its lame context.

Even though incredibly complex and insanely technical, this is a very quiet, intimate release. There is a vulnerability in this album that hasn't been seen in previous works.

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

Bunkka has the savvy and brass tacks to challenge even the Jedi master of music/marketing synergy, Moby. [Jul 2002, p.97]

Roni really hits home near the end, the last seven tracks making the album purchase (and the wait) more than worth it. [Dec 2004, p.110]

It's unfortunate that "Interscope Jackson" spends so much time here trying to ply believable tough talk--highlights arrive when Fiddy embraces his current, lavish lifestyle.

In the clubs, Baby Monkey will find a welcome family. [May 2004, p.87]

The color palette Fatboy has assembled for this project—Justin Robertson, Martha Wainwright, Dizzee Rascal, Iggy Pop, and David Byrne, to name but a few--doesn’t trump the fact that musically, the BPA is mired in beats that smack of early 2000, if not the late ‘90s.

Again and Again is an atmospheric album, but it suffers under often nonsense lyrics, uninspired vocals and borrowed production. It doesn't leave a lasting impression.

We can't blame it all on the puzzling guest appearances because back in the day, J5 would've saved those slip-ups. [Jul/Aug 2006, p.124]

A lot of these tracks sound like either near-misses or music made to play when your roomate's pissing you off. [Jan/Feb 2005, p.102]