The most disappointing aspect about Syd Tha Kid's delivery is her inability to create a remotely compelling protagonist - something Odd Future members have proved themselves more than capable of doing.

The Rapture show that they are as worthy of pupils as they have been for the last decade as teachers. But, unfortunately, they still have a lot to learn.

[The songs'] punchiness and repetitiveness can quickly get on one's nerves, depending on your disposition.

I'd say that MDNA is at the very least "not bad," but frankly, it's worse than bad: it's mediocre.

Van Weezer is the definition of a modern Weezer album: if you go in expecting it to be as dumb and forgettable as other recent Weezer albums, you’re going to get exactly that.

With some rather boring compositions and hokey songwriting, this record doesn't have a lot going for it.

Regardless, even the harshest of words are unlikely to stop this album from being a success. And that, well, is kind of depressing.

The songwriting here is just not very good. And even when the referential tracks are fairly decent, they only would have been minor entries of their era. Shades of Madonna and Avril can’t disguise that there’s no distinguished personality here.

The vast majority of Dark Lane could play in a suburban Baskin Robbins without offending a single soccer mom. Honestly, they’d be unlikely to even notice it was playing. The few songs that would have moms asking to speak to the manager – which are by and large the project’s better offerings – feel more cribbed from younger artists’ playbooks than ever for the Toronto king’s rapidly aging brand.

I Love You Dude is offensive in its banality, and other than that it's so mundane that it's tough to even want to care.

The whole thing comes off as either an expensive major label joke or nigh-impenetrable high art concept. Maybe both.

Future This is stuck in some kind of awful, awful limbo between Robert Smith-less Cure and hyperbolic electro dance music.

Wolf is a serious mess.

Whole Lotta Red has a vibe the same way a TGI Fridays has an atmosphere; it just rides a wave of different shades of lifeless trap, an endless TikTok dance in purgatory. ... The problem is Whole Lotta Red hardly ever gives Carti a chance to be real. He puts on vapid personas like ‘rock star’ and ‘vampire’ like he’s at Halloween Express. Tracks are Seinfeldian in their nothingness.

From an MC that would call himself King, shouldn't we all have hoped – nay, expected – well, better?

Should you desire to be kind, you can call the album mood music. In theory, it’s an astrology themed LP, with ‘Wunna’ representing an alter-ego, but none of that comes across. ... Even his voice lacks any distinction, a hushed, fatigued monotone that could belong to anyone, with so little presence that it hardly registers over the beats.