Separation Sunday is a book-on-tape, a grim and funny tome that draws from the Bible and Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. [#68, p.98]

Oneida's most cohesive and beautiful record to date. [#68, p.105]

Ultimately attains genuine staying power. [#68, p.108]

Its songs rest at the tipping point between melodic and atonal without seeming like middle-of-the-post-punk-road accords struck between dissenting intraband camps. [#68, p.106]

Taken in one sitting, Our Thickness is just wearying. [#68, p.110]

Sparkles with glittering innovations. [#68, p.102]

The Sunset Tree can be bleak, but it's also redemptive. [#68, p.104]

There's never a sense that the singer convinces himself he's got anything beyond the rote punk/blues motions to draw from. [#67, p.112]

Like Oskar, Otto luxuriates in tiny, clicking blip-beats with a sense of sythn orchestration. [#68, p.102]

Full of ideas as well as joyful energy. [#68, p.86]

Let There Be Morning may not cure your insomnia, but it should be a soothing antidote to that fourth double cappuccino of the day. [#67, p.96]

Fans will find nothing to object to. [#67, p.102]

What strike most are Sheff's strained, impassioned vocals and the joyful variety of instrumentation. [#67, p.110]

Only confirms the Belle And Sebastian comparisons this Australian band has endured throughout its seven-album career. [#69, p.100]

Remarkably, the shifts in tone and mood only serve Guero in the end. [#67, p.85]

An instant power-pop classic. [#67, p.84]

The album refines rather than revamps the Decemberists' approach; it's the brightest panel of a triptych, not a new exhibit. [#67, p.95]

Without seeming pretentious or curated, Out Hud is making dance music that feels "important." [#67, p.110]

It's an overstuffed, uneven album, one that's not disappointing as much as it is disorienting. [#67, p.111]

The A Frames ultimately come off as serious students of history, not fashion. [#67, p.84]

It's drowsy, but drowsy with one cup of coffee in it. [#68, p.108]

Akron/Family is John Brown's body, the ghost of Tom Joad and the art-school spirit of Andy Warhol crammed into one ornate, mossy mausoleum. [#68, p.100]

The album's most human aspect is its contradictory nature, an ultimate lack of emotion that make the exhilarating Homework and the sentimental Discovery so accessible. [#67, p.90]

Evokes an industrial Enya soundtrack that would play on Frodo's laptop. [#67, p.112]

Nothing ever explodes on The Evens, which eschews Fugazi-style noise in favor of subtle dynamics and unsettling clarity. [#68, p.92]

Violent, seething and uncompromising. [#67, p.96]

No Wow is mechanical yet sexy, and a soulful, grinding groove is key. [#67, p.102]

Five years past, you'd figure Prekop has found something beyond tenderness and cool timbres. He hasn't, and that's OK. [#67, p.110]