Their smoky, atmospheric ballads are too languid by half, but Telefon Tel Aviv's bright melodic palette keeps Immolate Yourself from descending into a dull fog.

Melodically, Jakob could've dug a little deeper here, even if he was consciously avoiding radio-ready 'One Headlight' territory. But Seeing Things does manage a few unexpected moments of timeless grace.

Each song boasts a memorable harmonic shift or guitar filigree or hook, but successive listens reveal an overstuffed package whose melodic involutions aren't complex and/or simple enough to sustain more than an hour's worth of music.

Harper's a master of no genre. [May 2003, p.111]

Keren Ann's languid orchestral pop is suffused with equal parts Parisian lounge, Golden Age of Hollywood, and polished folk song.

Green Naugahyde is all rubbery, aggro Bootsy, picking up where 1999's nü-metal-chasing Antipop left off.

The Gathering should be a hoot, at the very least, but this Baltimore clan's fourth release is more of a slog, shackled by monochromatic guitar churn and a slack pulse.

The production, supplied by stellar guests ranging from Jay Dee and Rockwilder to the Plugs themselves, is clean and airy, with the boys floating on bubbles of flatulent bass and high-stepping over chirping guitar chords.... But if anything foils Art Official Intelligence, it's the wrath of the math: 11 of the album's 17 tracks feature guest appearances.

The problem is that Bada$$ seems to have missed their lessons on levity. His style--often-poetic lyrics rapped in a blunted monotone over moody production--is skilled, but never very fun.

Rated R, Rihanna's first album since her brutal confrontation with ex-boyfriend Chris Brown, wants to recast her as a searing woman scorned. It doesn't quite take.

Muse used to sound like a Radiohead tribute band; now they sound like a Muse knockoff. [Aug 2006, p.81]

Though the hooks and melodies are spread a little thin... Lerche still has a convincing charm in his lighter, acoustic moments. [Feb 2007, p.84]

Despite these fine individual performances, Everything Was Beautiful, And Nothing Hurt overall is an interminable slog.

Overall, Hawk faithfully follows its predecessors' dusty Americana blueprint, trading a standout Hank Williams cover for two by Townes Van Zandt.

Men's Needs isn't nearly as unique as Jarman thinks, but his tunecraft is often as sharp as his wit. [Aug 2007, p.100]

Dido's third solo album reveals an unyielding fear of intimacy, her mellow trip-pop (coproduced by Jon Brion) buckling underneath sadness and alienation.

[They] downplay the hip-hop boom-bap... in favor of busy pop jams that mirror the overstimulation of 21st-century life. [Apr 2007, p.93]

Milky keyboard washes and found-sound accents... give the music a darker, dreamier depth. [Sep 2006, p.100]

The Night Marchers follow Rocket From The Crypt's tried-and-true strategy, intertwining punk, hard rock, and rockabilly, with lively if unsurprising results. [May 2008, p.104]

The arresting second album from this five-piece trades the jangly folk rock of their only-pleasant debut for a harsher, more jittery approach.

Her songs are feeling like Jason Mraz's leftovers. [Jul 2004, p.110]

Lifeline is a commanding, unjammy take on gospel-influenced rock, featuring his most spiritual singing since 2004's Grammy-winning collaboration with the Blind Boys of Alabama.

The Guilty Office recalls its predecessors, with better engineering focusing the details.

Gibb... is the seamy, sex-fueled yang to the ascetic yin of the Magnetic Fields' Stephin Merritt. [Oct 2006, p.98]

Singer Michael Vidal owns his gloominess and the band delivers arrangements that are plenty tricky, but their arty '80s excavation rarely finds the gooey, glittering choruses that would truly elevate their stylistic shift.

Uneven, overly reverential. [May 2005, p.110]

Prekop's crew have mastered a more intricate approach, seasoning their gently introspective tales of "distracted and lazy" lovers with stronger ingredients. [Jun 2007, p.95]

Again Into Eyes only truly perks up near the end when they call up their inner Psychedelic Furs on more straightforwardly swooning ballads like "Faith Unfolds."