The Handler is no doubt marred by some tasteless postcoital nyuks... and outdated references. [#12, p.97]

Messy yet polished guitars surge through swathes of melodic white noise while the tracks are still able to maintain an impressive sharpness.

It gives us songs more memorable for their grizzly narrations or the occasional doo-wop harmony than the steady performances of mostly standard-format jams.

While the group's penchant for humid power-dirges threatens to sink 119 in its middle, they're unbeatable--but only when they skip the accoutrements and just bang away at high speed.

It's hard to say what it all amounts to apart from a collection of partly-cloudy-late-afternoon-sunshine, on-and-off '80s jams.

The British quartet masquerading as a Japanese duo is back with its fourth full-length, Ventriloquizzing, bringing along a signature slinky groove and wordplay that borders on the absurd.

Out-and-out rockers “A Mirror” and “Tired & Buttered” provide some much-needed lucidity, but as a whole, Held in Splendor may be a bit too tranquil for its own good.

The band’s fourth release, Christopher, falls flat despite containing one of this year’s (possibly this decade’s) finest pop songs with its opener “Desert of Pop.”

Waiting For Something To Happen, is something both sinister and sweet, dripping with shoegaze guitars and harmonies abound.

While the record does nothing to offend listeners, it's excessively broad and does little to dramatically impress. [Winter 2008, p.94]

The result is mixed and at times strained, but a spark still lies within.

The result is a melancholy brew.

I Am Gemini is more of an auditory theater piece than a traditional record.

The two marry sounds of melodrama and sheer polyphonic weirdness for a result gone (sometimes) wonderfully awry. [Fall 2008, p.98]

The Sun Dogs features solid, compelling songwriting and sounds wonderful; heavy, spacious guitars flare up amidst the smoke, and when these guys start to rip, there’s no stopping them.

The result is not so much a breakthrough in ease of listening, but more a feeling that one of the greats is getting back in the ring to fight after tying one of his own arms behind his back. [Winter 2008, p.99]

Wymond Miles’s imaginative guitar work is often enough to cover a multitude of sins (see the scorching lead on “Hummingbird” and the minimal flourishes on “April Fools”). For some listeners that will be enough, but overall the record feels structured more like a career-spanning live set than a cohesive collection.

Their self-titled LP has the troupe’s familiar indie-“folk”-meets-psychedelia soundings, yet adds some new wrinkles.

He’s taken a sharply intimate and original turn from his debut solo effort and the result is a catalogue of 14--surprise!--super-chill tunes, consistent front to back, although none necessarily a standout.

The results aren’t all winners, but there are gems where you wouldn’t expect them.

The North Carolina natives mix the boisterousness with the balladry well, while delivering image-evoking lyrics in between.

The Globes do a nice job of grabbing and keeping listeners' attention throughout the album's 35 minutes of music.

There's not nearly enough of Aesop living up to his impressive talent.

This is another great move by a revered musician, but the delivery isn’t always as exciting as the idea.

Cyclone might lack the raw beauty of her last project, but Case's emotional honesty is surely a sign that more meaningful transformations are in store. [Winter 2009, p.92]

Sounds sometimes Dylan and most of the time Starbucks. [#12, p.102]

Inoffensive to the nth degree, this is a sleeping pill, not the double espresso we ordered.

It’s Nocturnes' two sleek singles (“Motorway,” “Broken Record”) that manage the best in dark electronic allure with shiny, hook-driven choruses.