Since 1995, Jenkinson's been treating his laptop the way death-metal bands treat their guitars, and it's no longer radical, just annoying. [Apr 2004, p.136]

This is Fountains of Wayne or the Church with real power in their power pop. [Apr/May 2002, p.116]

Laces the Unit's thugs-to-riches formula with chunks of the Dirty South. [Aug 2004, p.143]

Cocky and nicotine-stained, the Kills revive the cheap art of sinister underground rock and puzzling, mysterious pseudonyms. [May 2003, p.121]

Unless you've just fallen off a bong, the endless whimsy lacks meat. [Apr/May 2002, p.118]

Zigzags between immensely beautiful and crushingly ordinary with disorienting regularity. [May 2005, p.122]

Every song has hooks so polished you can see your reflection in them. [Dec 2004, p.142]

After 25 minutes, they close with five worthy remixes instead of the typical filler—a startup rarity, knowing how to quit while you’re ahead.

Sadly, distracting overembellishments dog her sixth album. [#14, p.133]

Concept or not, American Idiot is still decent fodder for a mosh pit, a luagh and a sob session. [Nov 2004, p.136]

Parish is at his best on songs that, for all their avant-garde trappings, are eloquent enough not to need lyrics. [#10, p.125]

Its densest aural jungle so far. [#17, p.136]

This time, he's playing with a minimalist, barely electric trio that wouldn't dare overshadow his sleepy-voiced utterances, painstakingly plucking one note at a time, and writing songs mostly about horses or mortality or both. [Jun 2005, p.115]

There's no jam-band noodling, and Anastasio's indelible head-bobbing cheer is now attached to the kidn of straightforward hooks Phish preferred to twist. [Dec 2005, p.144]

On the whole, it's an inventively played, not-quite-straight bluegrass album... [Aug/Sep 2001, p.124]

The ballads are clunky and ponderous. The groove stuff, though... exists in that blissy stratosphere the Dead visited so often. [Aug 2004, p.138]

Get past the sometimes cloying pastoral arrangements and the often cornball sentiments and there are moments of ragged glory. [Sep 2004, p.132]

A vehement kiss-off to California's Central Valley. [Nov 2005, p.136]

Strange stuff, but oddly appealing. [Feb/Mar 2002, p.111]

These songs don't rock; they squirm, shuffle and skulk. [#23, p.111]

These amply melodic songs offer a style manual of orchestral pop and twinkly genre touches. [Mar 2006, p.112]

Instead of the rumbling epics of their later records... we get patient but ultraconcise miniatures. [Jun/Jul 2001, p.113]

Lush and idyllic. [Nov 2004, p.142]

Persson does sadness the way Eminem does anger: with a conviction that takes the breath away.

Nas can still dazzle on the mic. [Jan/Feb 2007, p.87]

Keep It Hid is guitarist and singer Dan Auerbach’s affirmation of ragged principles, self-recorded with blunt, squawky ax-picking and loving lo-fi grit. The sentiments can be snoozily familiar.

The Secret Migration comes dangerously close to being just another Mercury Rev album, and they're too inspired for such a mundane fate. [Jun 2005, p.112]

You can find kids playing harder and faster in the cut-out bins at Hot Topic, but if you're lookin' for trouble, you came to the right place. [Apr 2005, p.119]