Songs like "Do You Remember" and "Wasting My Time" are tolerable but don't require repeated listening.

There's nothing really spectacular about any track, although in a strange way the entire album does have the ability to grow on you.

The Memphis five-piece sometimes lacks a definitive sound... Yet the band excels at its straightforward, meat-and-potatoes sound.

While there's not necessarily a bad song to be found, Gough is capable of much more than the pretty yet bland compositions that dominate "One Plus One."

Paint-by-number grooves, coupled with nonexistent hooks and forgettable melodies, do not result in an album that requires repeated plays; that is unfortunate, since a few Timbaland-produced tracks demand just that.

A respectable effort.

Primarily lackluster.

A mostly solid collection of quirky dance pop and cryptic rock.

It comes across as unnecessarily tame.

At 22 tracks, "Damita Jo" has its fair share of hits and misses.

While the production is good, the divergent styles and lack of cohesion add up to a somewhat schizophrenic offering.

A gigantic step backward.

Try as the trio might to inform its '80s pastiche with an extra degree of menace, the disc ends up sounding like the same old Trans Am: part Rush, part "Miami Vice" soundtrack and part pranksters just taking the piss.

"Lucky" kicks off the proceedings; it's a buoyant, blistering winner of a song. Unfortunately, the track is also one of the disc's few high points.

Yet where the music is hard-hitting, the hoarse, almost drunken vocal style of lead singer Hamilton Leithauser can be grating.

"Me First" is an easy listen, but Sennett is not nearly as captivating a leader as Rilo Kiley's Jenny Lewis, and the coming-of-age tunes aren't always strong enough to account for the album's lack of tempo change.

While by no means disastrous musically, it's a pale imitation of much better Stereolab albums, and in the end altogether dispensable.

"Per Second..." finds Wheat in the midst of an identity crisis, attempting to balance largely superb songs with an exasperating presentation.

An album that would have been great in 1983; now, it is more of a nostalgic lark.

From the ugly album art to the stupid title to the strange, messy songs, it's hard to tell if the band is growing up or just goofing off.

"The Listener" is a low-key, early morning album, perhaps something Lou Reed would have created had he spent his career playing saloons in Tucson, Ariz.

Though this music could easily be viewed as Longwave's take on Interpol's take on Coldplay's take on Radiohead, it isn't that derivative or boring.

The group has abruptly cashed in a good deal of its personality for an unflattering, generic modern-rock sound.

Well-produced, albeit predictable.

The group's live shows are the stuff of legend--perhaps that's why the act's debut album, #1, seems a bit disappointing without the corresponding over-the-top visuals.

100th Window meanders along, emotion-less and soul-less—albeit with haunting Middle Eastern flourishes.

Overall, the album plays too stiffly for these experts of synth-hewn dance/pop.

Often falters distressingly.