The Long Goodbye is no cutesy, navel-gazing crap; it's the neglected pop practice of C-A-R-E and reverence of form and forefathers. [#59, p.93]

The opposition between sonic abstraction and more familiar pop elements like beats, riffs and grooves creates a welcome tension. [#58, p.83]

Louris' vision is still pretty much stuck in 1992. [#58, p.94]

Like the most effective camp, the line between what's intentionally and accidentally embarrassing is utterly ambiguous. [#58, p.82]

The S4 seems very confident in getting away from itself and making music not burdened by influence, but propelled by it. [#58, p.106]

With its plumb-pretty songs, Mouthfuls will be part of the Smithsonian's year 3000 exhibit on white people. [#59, p.95]

It stands as not only the most fully realized Portastatic album but as one that ought not be overshadowed by its creator's more well-known outlet. [#59, p.107]

When they fall into slow, sullen standards like minimalist closer "I Cry Alone," it's magnificently evil. [#59, p.86]

It's what the British Invasion might've sounded like had it come after punk rock. [#58, p.109]

He slouches in with "Sisters" and begins his album-long teetering on the brink of affectation, sounding like a teenager with restratint. [#59, p.89]

Keep On Your Mean Side suffers from the same-samey quicksand tha bogs down the overhyped Yeah Yeah Yeahs. [#58, p.95]

Not even Linkous can prop up this house of cards for long. [#58, p.94]

Manages a graceful, humble, grounded timelessness without sacrificing the groove. [#58, p.82]

An embarrassment of riches. [#58, p.91]

Less, in this case, proves to be much more; Jurado's songs just cut closer when unadorned. [#58, p.95]

Just start at track six, where the getting gets good. [#58, p.97]

The misfires pale in comparison to the stomp and swagger of the record's best songs. [#58, p.91]

Even at their most obvious, the Buzzcocks can smoke the young guns. [#58, p.83]

A more ambitious and confident document of Califone's ability to catapult old sounds into a new millennium. [#58, p.84]

Probably one of the better pop recordings you'll hear in '03. [#58, p.98]

Ward's far-ranging sound transcends the room.... If only his lyrics were as fresh. [#58, p.106]

Sounds like classic overcompensation, a racket on wheels trying to live up to its hype by merely playing over it. [#59, p.98]

Serves notice that Molina has discovered some heavy machinery and isn't afraid to use it. [#58, p.106]

The best punk record you'll hear all year, articulate and amped all the same. [#58, p.86]

Inhabit[s] some weird middle ground between The Teaches of Peaches and Prince's 1999. [#58, p.98]

He sandbags every song with gigantic, syrupy string arrangements that make John Williams sound like John Cage. [#58, p.82]

More of the same, yes, but riding what sounds like an autumnal rebirth. [#58, p.86]

Give Up is a record that says, well, nothing. [#58, p.100]