Filter's Scores

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For 1,801 reviews, this publication has graded:
  • 71% higher than the average critic
  • 3% same as the average critic
  • 26% lower than the average critic
On average, this publication grades 2.6 points higher than other critics. (0-100 point scale)
Average Music review score: 75
Highest review score: 96 Complete
Lowest review score: 10 Drum's Not Dead
Score distribution:
  1. Positive: 1,648 out of 1801
  2. Mixed: 137 out of 1801
  3. Negative: 16 out of 1801
1801 music reviews
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    • 65 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Spiritual Mental Physical
    The surviving Hackneys-bassist/singer Bobby and drummer Dannis-sifted through their early jams, rehearsals and demos for this ragged set of odds and ends.
    • 69 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Bitter Tea
    For every minute-long section of pinwheeling brilliance, there is some expository musical element that keeps us from getting at the core of what makes the group work so well. [#20, p.99]
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    • 68 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Indigo Meadow
    Will Maas be forever obsessed with the good–evil dichotomy? The answer’s in their moniker--and their monitors.
    • 54 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Junk of the Heart
    The band proves once more that you can't get by on just clever quips and happy-go-lucky hooks. It's too bad, because these catchy compositions would be worth replaying if only they had more substance.
    • 79 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Get Color
    Get Color may not be as revelatory as its predeccessors, but its slight merits gradually ooze into the wounds it so fiendishly creates. [Fall 2009, p. 102]
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    • 76 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Return to the Ugly Side
    Not as good as their first.
    • 83 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    We're New Here
    While We're New Here is spooky, it's more chill-out mix than futuristic minimal-rave, and comes as a less interesting culture-clash than, say, The Dirtbombs doing covers of Detroit techno songs.
    • 66 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    If The Ocean Gets Rough
    The traditional folk-rock methods begin to falter as the album wears on, leaving Mason's stirring tales of troubles and joys feeling rather one-dimensional. [#24, p.98]
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    • 64 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Poor Moon
    Woodland tunes are not rare and only a few tracks here get the heart racing and stave off a bad case of bradycardia.
    • 72 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Personal Life
    Personal Life comes across dark, lost, and-shockingly for The Thermals-boring. At least Don and Betty Draper shared a bed for a little while.
    • 76 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Class Clown Spots a UFO
    [Class Clown is] like all GBV releases, a mishmash of melodic, A-side-worthy compositions and half-formed snippets.
    • 71 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Reptilians
    With no standout tracks, Reptilians just becomes 40 minutes of innocuous, digital background music that's been done before.
    • 64 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Where the Messengers Meet
    The result is a seamless yet stark poeticism that best represents MSHVB's overcast outlook on the world below.
    • 70 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    The Lemonheads
    The greatest 1996 era melodic rock since... 1996. [#22, p.98]
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    • 71 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Tracer
    Nick Weiss and Logan Takahashi sadly lack their forefathers' mastery for emotionalizing machine-made sound.
    • 53 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Until One
    From the Midlands to the Midwest, the mediocre couldn't be more on fire.
    • 51 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Funstyle
    Funstyle's what would happen if M.I.A. joined a musical sequence on Saved by the Bell.
    • 71 Metascore
    • 56 Critic Score
    Little Joy
    This debut could've, should've and would've been more appropriate as a moody summer release for trips with the car windows down, but instead we're forced to keep 'em up as winter nags at our sleeves. [Holiday 2008, p.100]
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    • 68 Metascore
    • 54 Critic Score
    Forfeit/Fortune
    Overall, Forfeit/Fortune feels too much like a collection of songs that were thrown together without thought or directoion. [Fall 2008, p.99]
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    • 70 Metascore
    • 54 Critic Score
    Smoke
    It's shame, however, that the goofy aspects of the album distract from its sonic frame, as Wiliams is not only a talented producer but also has a keen ability to weave masterful pop instrumentation. [Winter 2007, p.94]
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    • 60 Metascore
    • 54 Critic Score
    Six Cups of Rebel
    Six Cups of Rebel isn't bad, but it is heavy-handed--and nowhere near his strongest.
    • 68 Metascore
    • 54 Critic Score
    Who Killed Harry Houdini?
    The 29-member jonkoping, Sweden, collective opts for a darker and altogether less interesting vernacular. [Fall 2008, p.92]
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    • 63 Metascore
    • 54 Critic Score
    American Central Dust
    This one settles for regrettably generic high-plains fiddle and wistful sighs of pedel-steel guitar. [Summer 2009, p.94]
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    • 51 Metascore
    • 54 Critic Score
    Alive & Amplified
    Some kind of Californian 5th Dimension/Phil Spector hybrid. All apologies, guys, but it comes off about as genuine as Phil Spector's current legal defense. [#11, p.94]
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    • 79 Metascore
    • 54 Critic Score
    Blessed
    Blessed certainly isn't a curse, but it doesn't exactly leave you feeling a higher power, either.
    • 72 Metascore
    • 54 Critic Score
    In Our Nature
    In Our Nature is a compelling but not fascinating portrait of an artist at ease in his element.
    • 73 Metascore
    • 54 Critic Score
    Angel
    While Pleasure and C.U.T.S. evoke the nature of the dream, Angel, obsessive and occasionally trite, tends to tell rather than show.
    • 67 Metascore
    • 54 Critic Score
    A People's History Of The Dismemberment Plan
    Complete hit-or-miss studio play. [#8, p.104]
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    • 83 Metascore
    • 52 Critic Score
    The Hunter
    Mastodon's most accessible album to date finds the ATL-iens as unfocused as ever--and out of gas.
    • 69 Metascore
    • 52 Critic Score
    Camp
    It's somewhere between impressive and impressionistic how Glover inhabits each style, but pit between street chaff and crooner cheese, between respect and restless imitation, one can't help but wonder where all of Glover's talent is headed.
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