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.

N.A.S.A. is, like its government counterpart, bloated with potential and rife with inefficiencies, resulting in a record which is more impressive fotr its guest list than its track list. [Winter 2009, p.91]

Flowers would do better to leave the theatrics back at Caesar's Palace. [#22, p.96]

Heavier, headier, and roaring with a kind of rock assault unimaginable from its first, the band lays it all on the table from the get-go. [Spring 2009, p. 91]

It's an experiment in homage. [#19, p.104]

It's Watson's voice we're missing most from the overwhelming instrumentation, and after hearing the Buckley-esque transcendence that his vocals are capable of, it's more than disappointing to hear them take second chair. [Spring 2009, p.106]

There are hits and misses as the slower ones take a little longer to catch on, but when the arena-rock sized riffs meet Pollard's mid-fi production, there really isn't anything else you can ask for. [Holiday 2008, p.92]

This is a fine pop album; it bites as well as bops. [Spring 2009, p.96]

While the band introduces new elements with this release, its shoegaze dream-pop still underlies each track, with many familiar experimental tangents scattered throughout.

Every song on this record pulsates with so many heart-thumping beats per minute, you'd think this was some newfangled cardiovascular exercise for ravers. [Spring 2008, p.99]

Their new self-titled album is both more refined and more expansive.

The reasons we love the Parisians-by-way-of-London rockers are only partially for their adolescent kitsch and filth. [Winter 2008, p.97]

It’s not that the signature strings are missing or the lyrics are less poignant, it’s just that Last Light finds them hidden behind a big ol’ indie rock rather than center stage amid swirling chamber pop.

His intimate voice strikes enough of a balance with the chilly electronics to keep the core of this winter release at room temperature.

A major label debut filled with the sound of his smoky baritone voice, front and center.

Who else but Madness could pull off covers of the Supremes and the Kinks on the same record? [#17, p.94]

This is beautiful, intense music, trapped in their tiny, distraught world. [#16, p.93]

Their self-titled debut is filled with unexpected flourishes: a spiky Britpop guitar-riff here, a 1980s synth-refrain there; its influences are all over the board--and delightfully so.

Krohn's the real deal, in a world full of one-dimensional derivatives. [Holiday 2009, p.100]

With nary a glitch or bloop in sight, the blend turns out as playful Sascha funk(e) a la Drei Auf Drei dipped in Postalesque lyrical pop bliss. [#21, p.100]

Joshua Epstein and Daniel Zott’s latest effort fires on all cylinders throughout (pun intended), continuing their successful blend of modern electronics and a Beach Boys approach to melody and vocal harmony.

By its very nature, the sonic range is reduced and the vocals sit tightly in the piano and acoustic guitar lines, as in "Blind Little Rain," where the vocal movement is as playful as it is devastating with Yuki's ghostly calling. [Holiday 2009, p. 92]

Rife with an irresistible charm, sly English wit, and supremely catchy choruses. [#10, p.98]

It’s no leap forward, but surely no step backward either.

They're better when they're reflective, not reflexive, as on the galloping, careening 'Be Somebody' and the mournful 'Cold Desert,' but the album lacks the hooky rock the band once pulled off so effortlessly, even when thry weren't trying. [Fall 2008, p.91]

Some of the most grandiose music this side of ELO. [#8, p.108]

While this carefully choreographed dance of feedback and vox is what made the post-punk wave so influential in the first place, Glow & Behold just misses the mark.

Lovefoxxx's metallic delivery and pseudo-rougish lyricism are crisp and poignant, laid out over the kinds of zippy, synth-pop digital landscapes that'll make even the most ardent Reaganomics-kiddie smile. [Summer 2008, p.94]