Clocking in at an hour, and incorporating much schizophrenic style-hopping, this is far from the concession to one-dimensional economy often required for a major-label debut. [#47, p.53]

This recording finds Saint Etienne a slower, gentler band--not nearly as shaken or stirred as past incarnations, but fuller and more vital-sounding than before. While some of The Sound of Water misses the mark, the songs that hit are great enough to make you jelly-kneed. [#47, p.51]

There's a predominantly love-song sound streaming though and through. There are honest-to-god numbers that color themselves well within the bounds of traditional pop standards, making it actually an easy listen--a departure for a band who made themselves synonymous with pushing the musical envelope. [#47, p.29]

But if the instrumentals are at times boring and over-shy, the heart of the record--and what gives the instrumentals something to bounce off--are the vocal tracks, which highlight both women's talent at melody and whimsical yet honest lyricism. [#47, p.42]

Like the cover art, the content of this album is fast, loud, and abrasive, filled with images of speed and violence.... Thankfully, it's not all pedal-to-the-floor mayhem. There are plenty of moments like the cascading synths and free-jazz horns of "Blood Money" to keep things less than predictable. [#47, p.35]

Broadcast revel in a compelling slowness, even at their most cheery, with melodies just beyond sing-along enveloped in soft basslines and fizzing samples. [#46, p.28]

Hardly surprising to find some dross here, I suppose, since the whole thing clocks in at 77 minutes, 26 seconds. For those willing to make their own "best of" tape, through, Ecsatsy has a lot to offer. [#46, p.33]

Its deft beauty fuses Marshall's powerful fears about the world and herself with her manifest belief in the divinity of song. [#46, p.34]

This is a quiet pearl. It may spin a few times before you notice. [#46, p.32]

Smith focuses on his own artistic/existential questions to the exclusion of all else, including the record's production, which is completely monotonous, and its pace, which falls somewhere between a plod and a trudge. [#46, p.47]