So here we have another U2 album that's just as good as the last one. In fact, it's really good. [#13, p.88]

Gelb and the band make great strides in musicianship, shifting tempos, languages and sounding disjointed, elegiac and hallucinatory all at once. [#12, p.98]

All the things you love about Sonic Youth are here, just a little fewer and further between than you'd like. [Spring 2009, p.93]

A blush to the cheeks means the music is working.

The most compelling moments (“I Am Dust” and the title track) are like mechanized, sci-fi mini-operas, awesomely grandiose and yet disturbingly proximate enough to breathe all that fear right down your neck through your spine.

Truelove's Gutter ranks right up there with the rest of his vastly underrated catalog; it's as ambitious as it is simple, elegant as it is morose. [Fall 2009, p.92]

Schizophrenic, stark, and even with its pretentious theatrics, this is an amazing record. [#9, p.104]

The record’s major achievement is in stretching the genre again, this time by contraction: This is meditative hardcore.

Though the sound can come off as aggressive, if not anxiety-inducing at times, it's the tiny revelations that make the vicious drumming, harsh guitars and freaky vocals worthwhile, summing up for an experience that is as delightfully fucked up as it is musically seamless...with unexpected steel drums making appearances in between.

Level Live Wires, like "Waking Life," is not simply art for art’s sake, but rather an invitation to drift off into bliss within your own head, guided and fueled by the creative juices of another.

Otherworldly, weird and downright gorgeous. Siouxsie oughta be proud.

Bringing it to a simmer works well for the group.

Appropriately, the Brooklyn ambient-musician’s incandescent-yet-stentorian release acts as a warm and pacifying salve for the heartbroken and exultant alike.

The balance across the album (as opposed to the drop-off second half of Feels) makes it their most forward and enjoyable work to date.

Underneath the Pine is anchored by Bundick's reverbed, strangely ethereal voice-it's just as malleable and expressive as the rest of the electronics in his impressive repertoire.

[His] roughhewn compositions shuffle along with a shambolic charm, giving the collection an earthy appeal and conversational warmth. [#16, p.96]

It's easy to zone out, but during several tracks you could be staring at a carpet stain for five minutes and still have time to screw your head back on to hit the moments of triumph. [Winter 2008, p.92]

Barchords is too subtle to change the world, but it will turn your head.

Cloud Nothings, with teeth clenched tight and feedback flowing aplenty, rock a blue streak without letting a single moment go by hook-free.

Easily their best, most cohesive album yet, No Color shines brightly-continuing to push the band to new levels of musicianship and songwriting.

In 2014, Woods still stand tall, having morphed from a lo-fi weirdo electric folk band on their own fringe label into a veritable lighthouse on the now populous independent coast.

As a whole, it’s not so much sonically austere as utterly aesthetically totalitarian.

This is meat and 'taters rock mixed with the Devil's blood. [#24, p.90]

Ferreira’s artfully trashy synthpop is a little bit Ladytron austerity, a greater bit Blondie ferocity, and her songcraft is, well, rather astonishing.

Naturally, there are moments that regress into mere riffs on the band's million-old forerunners, but attitude intermixes with ambiance on Nouns in a special, timeless way. [Spring 2008, p.99]

The star of the show here is ultimately the group's tuneful popcraft and its subtly gloomy underbelly. [Holiday 2009, p.102]

The music is so completely absorbing and evocative... it's possible to virtually recreate the film in your head. [#7, p.93]

They've evolved into a new complexity here. [#11, p.94]

All of these bittersweet tracks are gloriously faint approximations of everyone's favorite seasonal affective disorder. [Holiday 2009, p. 93]

The Big To-Do's melodies may be workman-like at times, but flair was always for the flame-outs. [Winter 2010, p.96]

Barbara and Ethan Gruska return with springtime melodies, dreamy folk pop and R & B-influenced dance numbers.

There are some raucous shout-alongs (with pots and pans!), but the band keeps it cohesive as singer Van Pierszalowski steers them through thoughtful waters--standing boldly triumphant in the face of the rempest. [Spring 2008, p.89]

The year's finest agitprop. [#20, p.96]

A firmer grasp of his limited range would have been welcome (i.e., "I Can't Feel"), but the N.Y.C. artist still manages to peek further out from his twitchy drum machines like an impish agent of darkness.

Their new record O' Be Joyful is a delightful combination of knee-slapping, bordering-on-gospel folk tracks and bluesy guitar-driven rock.

Spooky and memorable, this is one lustrous wonder.

The only downside to this album is, ironically, its accessibility. [#5, p.90]

It's hard to believe that a guy so apparently bombed out of his head... can concoct such well-crafted pop songs. [#11, p.98]

The two come together to create something more than an album of contrasts. [#19, p.95]

The Haunted Man is mostly a collection of fairly elementary meditations on the heart, but, without a doubt, there is still thunder in Natasha's soul.

The result makes sense, too, but is a bit more refreshingly unexpected.

Diamond Eyes does not disappoint when it comes to strong, powerful and unexpected material.

It's an incandescent release that places a heavy emphasis on subterranean bass.

Califone's first EP in 1998 may have been ahead of its time, and now, 11 years later, just might be the time when the band has truly grown into its own. [Fall 2009, p.94]

It's part frustration, part chase with moments where everything seems to, accidentally, come together in passing moments that strike with more emotional effect than a compilation of soulful tearjerkers.

The songs are almost too precious, demanding total attention to appreciate the subtle fluctuations in texture and tone. [#25, p.102]

Much like Bergsman's previous efforts, Other Worlds' vocals have a heavy-lidded quality that may turn off listeners who prefer a more forceful rhythm section.

Toggling between scurrying, bleep-spangled instruments and alien FM pop, Gang Gang excels at confounding expectations. [Fall 2008, p.100]

[Kasher's] storytelling is still right up there with the very highest of Saddle-sitters. [#21, p.97]

Atlas, the ever-weighty third album, finds this cohesive crew, past and present now in lockstep, considering how best to turn their internal dialogue outward and beyond.

The ghosts of Pavement and Sebadoh flit through these pithy songs with free-range abandon.

Supreme Balloon is homage to a certain tendency in electronic music practically dating back to its inception--one which Matmos most proudly, and justly, belong. [Spring 2008, p.97]

Gymnasium is yearning and wide-eyed, steeped in action figures and Atari. Where this record veers from its predecessors is in its pervading optimism.

Consider Sun the start of Cat Power's new musical life.

Sisterworld is a slight and perhaps necessary comedown for Liars after the polar extremes of previous releases.

While not overwhelming or breathtaking, the slower pace and pure countrified nature of this latest release better suits the band's booze-soaked, Southern, small-town storytelling and captivates suitably for the running time.

Post Tropical should gain McMorrow plenty of new fans, and it certainly won’t lose him any.

Coomes' slide work is effective and expressive. [#7, p.93]

The titular light only spills out over rolling snares after much searching. Unfortunately, the remainder of Kollaps Tradixionales isn't quite up to the task. [Winter 2010, p.94]

Testing

This is the closet Dulli has come to replicating the genius he displayed with the Whigs, but it's not a retread. [#20, p.100]

Ladytron have decisively transcended any particular froth of trend that may have sprouted up around them. [#17, p.98]

At once stoic and graceful, her brief debut is as chilling as it is hypnotic, her lonely, minimalist guitar reeling you in as her hushed, unflinching vocals sing of all the things you'd rather not know.

Dark isn't a huge departure from the previous record, and it doesn't mark some major step in Hot Chip's evolution either. But there's something to be said for holding your liquor, keeping momentum, and showing the world that this whole ride is as wicked-fun as you thought it would be. [Winter 2008, p.92]

Rather than coming across as note-for-note recreations, each song takes on a new, softer life with Houck's delicate vocals. [Winter 2009, p.98]

The word "unnerving" doesn't account for the range of senses that get pulled down into this abyss. [#22, p.98]

Josephine isn't a drastically different approach for Magnolia Electric Co., but it's a lovely one that bears repeated listening, preferably at night while alone on the open road. [Summer 2009, p.94]

Misery doesn't step forward so much as expand outward; roughly half of the album... sounds as if it could've been lifted off of Melody. The other half is purely visceral. [#10, p.91]

While Hannon's aesthetic/literary weltanschauung is rather haughty, it succeeds by sheer force of intellect and style. [#11, p.95]

Apples' Robert Schneider has continued to hack away at the ins-and-outs of the most perfect psychedelic pop formations ever, and New Magnetic Wonder offers proof.

Humor Risk is a livelier affair and its venturesome aesthetic wanders.

The tunes are still catchy, head-bobbing and toe-tapping, a kind of summer soundtrack that brightens your mood even if it doesn't quite make you smile, and sometimes that's all an album needs to be. [Summer 2009, p.103]

With 10 blazing tracks averaging about two minutes each, the Vancouver band’s distinct brand of melodic punk might be too much to take, were it not for Mish Way’s cool command of the mic.

The group raging behind him on Local Business are minimalist punchers, cruiserweights mixing a little Thin Lizzy and Big Star pop-ulism in with the basement bile.

The Stand Ins is rich with traces of its conterpart. [Fall 2008, p.92]

A pretty excellent, ramblin' effort. [#16, p.99]

Sit back, listen and enjoy the trip.

Of the three Stephen Malkmus solo albums, this is the one that sounds the most like Pavement. [#15, p.91]

There's no mistaking the band's sunnier and, well, manlier sound. [#19, p.89]

Often Patrick Wimberly's production renders their pop-cultural culling too literally.

Finds [Beck] consolidating his considerable talent by combining all his disparate influences into one coherent collection of songs. [#15, p.90]

Another smartly executed step into the strange grandeur of Mr. Waits. [#12, p.94]

The best song is track 13, "Apology in Advance." It is still not that good. [#6, p.86]

The production is minimal, leaving II feeling pure and honest.

It’s an album that wears its weirdness on its sleeve, but it’s the best kind of weird, and a joy to listen to.

It's got all the allure of classic D-Mode, but there's that lingering hint of taking oneself a tad too seriously. [#17, p.97]

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]

Matangi can feel a little trippy-dippy--we miss the “give war a chance” Maya. Still, this is musically monumentally freako.

Beirut always obtains a robust bottom-end in the live setting. The same is true of this wistful nine-song set.

His lyrics are alternately introspective and celebratory, melancholy, and the most hopeful words you'll hear in the place--sometimes all in the same song. [#24, p.102]

Fang Island seems like a kickass live band, but sound somewhat scattered on headphones.

Proves that Prekop really is one of the few musicians who can allude to the '70s, soul, jazz and fun--yet still sound sincere. [#14, p.99]

Like its predeccessor, though, this set is a compelling document of brilliant truths and lies and dramatic threats and regrets. [Winter 2010, p.100]

On Cassadaga, classic sounds are resurrected in a satisfying swirl of country, gospel, cinematic pop, and of course, electro-folk.

Back is the blend of lo-fi and hi-fi, and back are the completely odd lyrics. [#22, p.94]

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea is the most assured and poignant album since the band's third, "American Water." [Spring 2008, p.97]

The trio's skronky bits and folksy mannerisms are in place, often found competing within the confines of a single song. [Spring 2009, p.96]

Despite the array of experiences and genres at White's disposal, the album retains cohesion due mostly to the consistency of White's voice, which is strictly country. [Winter 2008, p.98]