His guitar reinvigorates age-old lines on neat and tidy arrangements, but he's even busier exploring the limited expressive range of his singing voice. [May 2004, p.119]

Harder, denser, uglier. [#15, p.128]

Her wispily aspirational singing tugs hardest on 'Fall,' cowritten with Natasha Bedingfield, where escapism and realism do battle and her pretty pony of love rides a beautiful rainbow that may or may not lead to the glue factory of hobbled dreams. Stay tuned.

Merritt's lyrics are typically playful, and Claudia Gonson coos them with dreamy detachment. [#9, p.146]

50's signature wit is notably absent, so the fate of G-Unit hinges largely on his posse. [Jan 2004, p.104]

The anti-sentimentality gets a bit relentless over 18 songs. [Aug 2006, p.118]

It improves on the debut, slightly. [#10, p.114]

His bandmates... elevate Boyd's self-indulgent nonsense with rich noodling and searing flashes of metal. [Mar 2004, p.120]

While Banks's wicked wordplay is impressive, his one-liners get him only so far. [Jun/Jul 2004, p.134]

13 tracks of Disney-channel-ready pop, buffed and Pro-Tooled almost beyond recognition--and it's not half bad. [Apr 2007, p.111]

All too earnest. [May 2007, p.105]

Finally, an album that bridges the gaping chasm between hipsters and Rennaisance Faires. [Jun 2005, p.112]

The dark spaciousness that boosted BRMC's uneven 2001 debut is replaced with garage-rock fist pumpers, which are all catchy but cramped. [Sep 2003, p.119]

It's always peculiar, and often a mess; it's also occasionally brilliant. [Jun 2006, p.142]

The softening of his hardcore tendencies makes for a fruitful middle ground between his threats to foes and his pleas to Allah.

Tweekend lacks the immediacy of Vegas, but it works better the further it strays from Ecstasy-fueled breakbeats and squawking electro-hooks. Unfortunately, it doesn't stray too far. [Aug/Sep 2001, p.122]

When he's not being sour, Folds' flair for melody and simple, economical arrangements can create wonderful moments. [Aug/Sep 2001, p.122]

It's better written than her previous CDs... But this new old style is far less suited to her talents. [Jun 2007, p.110]

Combines guitar-driven, slightly Weezer-esque songs with the odd moment of touching musical beauty. [#17, p.133]

If his subject matter is getting stranger, however, his semiacoustic music is comfortingly familiar and expert. [#11, p.135]

There's a surefootedness and subtlety here to shame many elders. [Mar 2005, p.139]

For [O'Connor] to record a full reggae set, covering each song exactly like the original, rivals Gus Van Sant's odd shot-for-shot remake of Hitchcock's Psycho. [Oct 2005, p.141]

At worst, Matsuzaki's delviery can make this manic style-juggling sound irritating where it might otherwise be captivating. [Mar 2007, p.134]

Overall, Dig Out Your Soul is a dark, heavy, chart-snubbing record that acts Oasis’s age (main songwriter Noel Gallagher is 42) and is their first in eons that doesn’t seem desperate to please. Oasis have their devil back.

Trying to express her actual feelings, instead of inhabiting a fantasy, she leaves us looking for an authenticity and vulnerability that isn’t in her skill set.

Faithfull could use more stories to work with: she's a better singer of narratives than exotic phrases. [Mar 2005, p.140]

Lyrically, Nashville... is about as insightful as a Hee Haw rerun. But... his warm, reedy voice gives comfort where his words can't. [Apr 2005, p.125]

The group's unreconstructed P-funk would sound tired were it not so irresistibly spry. [May 2006, p.105]