Like all good things—especially good byes—it comes to an end. And with that, Mr. Murphy goes out on top.

It's simple, easy listening. [#11, p.98]

Awash in trippy reverb and surf-rock riffs, Arabia Mountain is further proof that the Lips have matured.

Throughout, there are pieces that defy the term "song" and exist more as sonic collages--intriguing bits of paste and mortar between tracks--providing ethereal contemplation and occasional abrasive interludes before returning to the more traditional song structure that is anything but traditional. [Winter 2008, p.100]

A Nordic slice of pop heaven that ranges from electro-Calypso bizarrity to hand clap-driven electro anthems about "Breaking It Up." [Summer 2008, p.102]

Just enjoy the ride and don't ask any questions. [Spring 2009, p.97]

Ramblin' Jack Elliott has teamed up with producer Joe Henry to deliver a starkly dimensional and soulful collection of dark blues. [Winter 2009, p.94]

Irresistible. [#22, p.93]

Taken on its own, any one of these songs is pretty good--and some are really good--but Lullabies to Paralyze is held prostrate by an overall lack of variety not made up for by kitsch or vigor. [#14, p.94]

A proudly odd hybrid always on the edge of destruction. [#25, p.104]

Furr's tight structures and stripped bones soar. Not that they've abandoned that record's ["Wild Mountain Nation"] sonic spectrum entirely; there's plenty of buried headphones treasures throughout, and they still steal gleefully from your parents' best records. [Fall 2008, p.92]

It literally sounds like the Strokes, but it lacks heart. Which means it replicates the first album in form, but not substance. [#8, p.100]

After four triumphant releases, and no matter where they go, it's clear we can trust Band of Horses, one of America's biggest and best rock and roll bands, to deliver.

[It] starts off pretty much where the previous one left off, with Skinner feeling sorry for himself. This time though, he does so with greatly improved production values. [#20, p.97]

This is not one to be missed, kissed with the promise that beauty and depth in songs still matters. [Holiday 2009, p.102]

Just as you're really gearing up for a night on the town with Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix as your sidekick, it ends abruptly. There's only one remedy: Play it again. And Again, And again. [Spring 2009, p.94]

A welcome return. [#16, p.96]

Acoustic guitars, violin, vibes and brush stroked drums all help maintain this steady mellow tone that's about as comforting as a warm bath after three sleepless days of jetlag. [#8, p.106]

It sounds like the freak show has just rolled into town--better get your tickets quick, because this is one spectacle well worth the price of admission. [Winter 2008, p.103]

As soon as the first bright notes of An Object wave you over to the album’s distorted incandescence, you realize that something is going on.

Tricky hasn't planted his flag on any new territory, but he has gotten a stronger grasp of what has made him such an intriguing and important artist in the last decade. [#6, p.90]

How can Scots with such a wry sense of humor make you believe they are so very, very serious? Sometimes the song titles speak for themselves, almost seperate from the music. [Fall 2008, p.94]

If there’s a criticism to be volleyed, it’s that In Our Bedroom After the War’s direction frequently changes dramatically, rendering the set of songs as a smattering of smart, soft ideas that are expertly executed rather than a cohesive collection of material.

Hynes poppy solo debut is packed with romantic up and downs and love-induced nausea, making for easy listen of well-produced, structurally sound guitar/piano folk. [Winter 2008, p.94]

The whole package is a head-snapping reminder that when R.E.M. was on fire, you couldn't put them out with all the water in the world.

It remains instrumentally raucous, emotionally battered, and unaplogetically fun. [Winter 2009, p.100]

While Grass Geysers…Carbon Clouds shows that Schmerse is still refining and fucking with his most primal pop tendencies, it’s most impressive because this time around, it’s not just Enon that makes the record special.

The Concretes have always been masters of pop and with WYWH the band pushes beyond the current obsession for Euro-beat synth disco pervading everything.