The group's warmest, most charitable album to date. [No. 98, p.61]

Shooting through the proceedings is a relentless, apocalyptic jitteriness that leaves you teetering on the edge of your chaise. [#58, p.84]

Their scope isn't quite as broad as 2011's Apocalypse or as emotionally complex as 2009's Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle, but they are full of sharp observations and wit. [No. 102, p.54]

Twenty years later, the Shellac so many swore by is back, and swinging. [No. 116, p.61]

Freedom's Goblin has hooks and strong songwriting, and the quality is more consistent than Segall's norm. [No. 150, p.55]

It's exquisitely constructed sound with a sharp punk edge and an anarchist's ear for chaos. [#48, p.92]

The Pilgrimage is a much busier, more dynamic effort than its predecessor; one that never flails in its considerable ambition, but, rather, simply continues driving forward, all menace and swagger. [No.86, p.56]

Songs like "Driving School," "M Train" and the deathlessly compelling "Crazy" sound unerringly alive and modern, making this an excellent archival release. [No. 134, p.59]

Revolution is not a political screed, as the band scorches and eases its way through a fair number of life/love reflection. [No. 144, p.55]

The songs are tightly constructed, the recordings clean and largely devoid of production effects, allowing the melodies, all quite lovely to take center stage. [No. 147, p.61]

On par with anything in the back catalog. [#69, p.106]

The music seems to matter, and for the listener, that's welcome relief from indiedom's groveling. [#52, p.82]

On [Her Majesty...], the whimsy and multicolored narrative threads that represented the best of the Decemberists' terrific first album are given room to breathe. [#60, p.96]

FLOTUS is unexpected, occasionally inscrutable and fascinating. [No. 137, p.57]

Midway through, it's already tiresome to hear the anthemic shouting and seemingly non-stop drum fills. It's a celebratory listen for sure, but one that could do with a breather that shows off this duo's skills. [No.88 p.58]

They've consistently upped tempos while delivering saccharine-infused riffs with all the sunshine-y aplomb of a Prozac salesman's first and last day on the job. [No.87 p.59]

Mould’s in a dark place right now: bile in his gut, pain in his heart, doom on his mind. It’s the end of days, people. He makes it sound so fun. [No. 129, p.56]

Golightly brings out rock'n'roll's original transgressive spirit. [#60, p.98]

Gibbons' craft is making her desperate drama believable and compelling.... [But] the lack of memorable tunes is Gibbons' worst affliction. [#61, p.96]

That the feel throughout is cruel New England winter suggests July is one hell of a break-up record. [No. 106, p.57]

The inanely literalistic Looping State of Mind magnifies that trend [toward expansionism], offering seven mutations of his trademark sound, in a newly expansive array of tempos. [#82, p. 55]

Paternoster invites you to get ugly and rotten with her like it's a call to arms. [No.86, p.57]

I Hate Music weds the North Carolina indie legends' eternal penchant for grind-it-out power punk with the pensiveness and introspection that colored their late-'90s/early-aughts output. [No. 101, p.56]

It's the sound of Griffin at an intriguing crossroads. [No. 104, p.56]

One of the band's best.... While 1999's Ric Ocasek-produced Do The Collapse was criticized by some for its thick, pop-radio gloss, Isolation Drills shows more restraint, reconciling Pollard's idiosyncrasies with the track-to-track consistency great rock albums demand. [#49, p.75]

What sounds like downcast spaciousness is actually riddled with layers of sound complementing the expected morose and heartfelt topics. [No. 121, p.61]

Surprisingly, Dylan has never been more deliberate or so overtly savage. [No. 93, p.54]

The sounds of the time are eclectic DIY, and often impressive. [No. 124, p.55]