Life is People does have its missteps, but even those don't sap the album of its undeniable charm.

When it works, Temple stuns. Unfortunately, it seems he's also chosen to pad this album with formless sound collages and white-noise excursions, diluting what would have been a stellar EP's worth of material.

In and Out of Control is still hindered by what has sunk every Raveonettes album from being great; there’s a sinking feeling upon multiple listens that you’re just listening to one long song.

The hooks often lack a singular focus, and there's a significant amount of fun to be had while working in a studio that's better off left on the cutting room floor.

McKee's voice may sound exactly like it did 20 years ago (the fate of most twee-pop ladies, it seems), but The Vaselines' trademark noise has only grown deeper, richer. Listening to this record just feels good on a purely physical level.

Fortino's considerable talent for trance-inducing musical honesty could probably use a little bit of editing. It's better in the end for listeners to feel like they're being driven, not just along for the ride.

With only the faintest hint of retracing his past successes, Prince is still on top of his game.

This is an album that’s extremely clean--the spic-and-span sonics might be the work of producer Michael Patterson. Even if it might help Great Northern achieve some broader success, all that cleansing has buffed away much of the band’s character.

What Untitled lacks, is focus. In the world in which R. Kelly operates, what's required of a great or even pretty good album is either several singles or a feeling of overwhelming personality from the artist. Most of the time, the two things accompany each other.

Spine Hits feels too spacious, lacking the depth that both [newly-departed singer] Fannan's swelling vocals and improvised jams filled the band's two previous releases [with]. Regardless, Spine Hits is an enjoyable listen.

Show[s] only a hair's breadth of progress from previous albums. That's not entirely a ruinious outcome, but it's not always an enticing one.

Yes, I'm a Witch may be less than the sum of its parts, but [some] notable tracks... make it worthwhile.

Business Casual will probably slay people at parties, on Urban Outfitters sales floors and as part of the pre-concert entertainment over the P.A. But it'll probably have the same seven-month shelf life as Fancy Footwork did.

It's hard to say that the group took the safe route with Grass Geysers, because it's such an exhilarating listen. Perhaps it's an unfair standard, but as past albums prove, this band still has some muscles that it's not flexing here.

This is a bit more than a simple holiday cash-in, but it falls short of anything all that necessary or memorable.

While Fantasm Planes aims to capture the ante-versions of Iradelphic songs as drifting minimalist collages, it's a tough sell after such a fully realized album.

As good as some of the tracks are, it's just discouraging to think how solid the record could've been if it had been just ten tracks of more fleshed-out material.

This Addiction is interesting and ultimately noteworthy because it finds a way to continue on with the band’s winning schematics while tweaking the blueprints in such a way that it's almost hard to notice that you’ve been duped by all the seeming predictability.

Buck the World doesn't quite match his 2004 debut.

Grand Archives ought to be more than a library of dusty riffs and Beach Boys records; Brooke's work succeeds where it adds fresh material to the shelves.

They've got the hooks, they've got the personality, and (at their best) they've got the songs. Their low fidelity is a choice for the album, not a way to plug into a movement. And while Past Time might not realize their sound as well as it could, when its working this is a sound that has no expiration date.

Throughout its padded 40-minute run time (like "All Hour Cymbals," it’s got a decent amount of filler), Odd Blood makes a stronger case for what’s up next for the band’s sound than where it is now.

The album may have its bumps, but the unassuming charm these guys have always brought to their records comes through more often than not.

The best tracks here still feature his distinct blend of surrealist poetry, but the music does not even meet it halfway.

Seems that no matter what project Rhys is involved in, his love of bright, Brian Wilson-inspired melodies is going to shine through.

[Remiddi's] fastidious mentality manages to keep this song suite afloat, even if the sails aren't always full of creative wind.

These new songs have lofty melodic ambitions but aren’t dedicated to the kind of journeying Ward’s lyrics imply.

The major criticism of Animal Collective has been the band's proclivity to bewilder listeners more than give them the pop songs they want. It's difficult to criticize Merriweather on those terms, but it applies a lot more to Fall Be Kind. What's worse, that bewilderment prevents Fall Be Kind from being what the best Animal Collective releases always are: fun.