The surprise here is less that an album about emerging, stronger, from sorrow’s all-encompassing shroud somehow goes down like a goblet of spiked sunshine. The surprise lies more in how much more emotional power the guitarwork—fluid, generous, measured—brings to bear, how much weight it carries this time.

Daniel's bump-and-grind synth lines are all campy humor. [Mar 2005, p.92]

A richly rewarding passage through the last five decades of American music history. [Aug 2005, p.99]

With his knack for extracting humor from the mundane, Skinner’s the perfect poet for this snooze of a topic.

Bright Yellow is the soundtrack for a small town, like New york, where everybody knows too much about everybody else. [May 2003, p.112]

Their best by a mile. [Jun 2003, p.100]

Room's similarity to its predecessor ultimately bespeaks a purity of vision, not a dearth of new ideas. [Dec 2003, p.121]

A dark, tense record, but one still crackling with life. [Sep 2004, p.114]

The live guitars and drums--and vocals more emo than robo--give off an irresistible warmth. [Aug 2004, p.108]

Recall[s] his greatest '90s-electronica work. [May 2006, p.91]

Like running full-tilt through a fun house with smoke machines, tinsel-covered ceilings and a super-size disco ball. [Aug 2004, p.108]

Rife with acid-burn guitars, levee-breaking drums, and vocals that recall Peter Gabriel at his wooziest. [Feb 2006, p.87]

Rounds is a more varied trip, with a darker vibe suggesting the influence of Hebden's labelmate Dan Snaith of Manitoba. [Aug 2003, p.118]

With Don’t Forget Me, Rogers sounds fully confident abandoning the glossiness of her earliest work—she doesn’t need studio flourishes to bolster her transcendent songwriting.

Hooky, spare, and lush all at once. [Mar 2006, p.95]

Webster’s commitment to alt-R&B-style repose, along with some keen sonic quirks, are just a couple of the ways the 26-year-old Atlantan contrasts the ’70s-era singer-songwriters she’s so often compared to. Still, the sheer musicality of what she does deserves boomers’ approval.

Smith's intentions cry out from the album's every discordant corner--he clearly wanted to test himself, to unhinge parts of his sound. [Nov 2004, p.105]

Amazing Grace is at peak moments an amazingly graceful representation of MC5/Stooges skid marks on a psychedelic superhighway. [Oct 2003, p.112]

At its core, Showtime is a classic sophomore album in the hip-hop sense: puffy with bluster, brimming with indignation. [Nov 2004, p.107]

A lovely, eerie album that plays like a digital memory of a lo-fi lullaby. [Aug 2005, p.103]

Tanglewood roars back to life with a massive band, a detailed sound, and a voice that sounds ravaged but right. [Oct 2005, p.142]

Toning down his oddball style and ramping up his storytelling, he drops a pusher’s odyssey as developed and cinematic as any Scorsese joint.

The rare hip-hop debut that does justice to its buzz. [Apr 2003, p.104]

Totally grimy. [Nov 2004, p.118]

The Young-ian guitar stutter remains intact. [Mar 2005, p.92]

Sound wimpy? Well, if you could write a song half as good as "Close The Door," we guarantee that your girlfriend would like you twice as much. [Sep 2003, p.115]

An impressive balancing act that name-checks Ween and cracks wise about Stevie Wonder's vision while spinning bighearted melodies and harmonies over quirky beatscapes. [Jan 2005, p.89]

Antics is so much more fun than Turn On The Bright Lights. [Oct 2004, p.107]