As usual, it's mostly successful as a mood piece. [No. 132, p.57]

A looser, more causal and countrified LP than a formal Heartbreakers release, these longtime friends use Mudcrutch to have some fun, jam out and exude a little bit of that old-fashioned Laurel Canyon psyche-twang sound. [No. 132, p.57]

Krug's mushy, mixed-down vocals and the lack of dynamic range often sucks all the life out of the music. [No. 132, p.57]

Atomic offers rare glimpses into the band's writing process and exists as an anomaly in Mogwai's catalog that's sure to intrigue diehard fans, but offers little more to anyone else. [No. 132, p.57]

It's a bit mad, but what else would you expect from the Melvins, which in-and-of -itself is a shame. [No. 132, p.55]

As meticulously milquetoast as the entirety of this is, there are deadly sharp adult contemporary hooks on "Over & Over" and "The Pin," though the pervasive electronic beats, the obnoxious layer of acoustic strumming and raise-your-beer-and-hum choruses are symbols of a band lock-stepping in with whatever goes over best with casual listeners. [No. 132, p.55]

As fine a record as you're likely to hear in 2016. [No. 132, p.54]

“Teaching Little Fingers To Play” is a bit hokey and clichéd. But on “If I Lost You,” the vibe connects massively: Serene loops and swift beats recall vintage Portishead, while Manson’s lyrical meditation on insecurity is stark, vulnerable and remarkably honest. [No. 132, p.53]

All of [the tracks are] meaty, beaty, big and bouncy. [No. 132, p.53]

If a smokestack tenor spewing a cloud of menagerie is your kind of daydream, the faulty superhero came through once again. [No. 132, p.51]

In other spots, there’s a creeping air of spookiness tempered by an almost cartoonish playfulness that sounds like either a masked killer or a wily coyote is sneaking up behind you. Praise be to those albums that can aurally evoke emotion and vivid imagery. [No. 130, p.59]

Whether in the flesh or behind-the-scenes, each work is all Wainwright. [No. 131, p.61]

A comfortable but nonetheless adventurous next step for this secretly brilliant band. [No. 131, p.61]

These songs are raw and muscular. [No. 131, p.61]

The arrangements turn more delicate and acoustic as the songs grow more hopeful. [No. 131, p.61]

The first two discs develop in a predictable but always rewarding and intelligently curated way.... The rest of the collection, by design or happy accident, chronicles the plummet and crash from visionary transcendence to the kind of dark Romanticism that the Bad Seeds were mining at about the same time in Australia. [No. 131, p.58]

The touch is lighter, with more interest in groove and atmosphere than climax. [No. 131, p.59]

Blind Spot sounds like the band hasn't missed a step since 1998. [No. 131, p.59]

The music's trickiness never seems gratuitous, though, because the changes in direction correspond to a lyrical stance that articulates the struggle to figure out what's constant in a world of change. [No. 131, p.59]

Detour is a great showcase for Lauper's vocal range and prowess, but the freak factor is dishearteningly low. [No. 131, p.59]

The Jayhawks have always sounded nostalgic, but Paging Mr. Proust proves there's still vitality in the tried and true. [No. 131, p.57]

Should I Remain Here At Sea? and Taste stand as proof that "Mastermind, Islands" should be Thorburn's lead credit. [No. 131, p.57]

Guitarists Gunn, Jim Elkington and Paul Sukeena channel their prodigious technique to fleeting textures and ingratiating hooks, and the arrangements update the template of 1970-vintage Velvet Underground and Grateful Dead with a half-century of judiciously applied production acumen. [No. 131, p.57]

It's an established formula: Regression to the mean is inevitable. That said, there are plenty of familiar pleasures for those who investigate. [No. 131, p.56]

Don't expect anything more earth-shattering than pleasantly folky indie-pop with a mild rootsy lilt. If that's your bag, though, don't lose out on this one. [No. 131, p.55]

A great, if subtle, step forward. [No. 131, p.55]

He dips into that well [roots/Americana] again on The Westerner, with producers Howe Gelb and Dave Way opening up the sound with layers of guitar effects that create a dark, spacey atmosphere. [No. 131, p.55]

Most disappointing about PersonA is that it oscillates between gutsy and lazy. [No. 131, p.51]