On Angles, the Strokes' trick isn't fooling us into thinking these tunes fell to Stanton Street fully formed (though that occasionally happens, as with the goofy fake-reggae lark "Machu Picchu"). It's that a group of reunited rock stars somehow come on like wide-eyed kids.

This lo-fi duo... continue to make charming albums while simply shrugging at their own limitations. [Jan 2007, p.88]

Wonderful Wonderful is the Killers’ strongest statement since 2005, a more than okay affirmation of their power to keep a global audience.

At its best, Home is a sumptuous, thrilling experience on a purely sonic level. There are absolutely zero boring moments here, and the details are often transcendent.

Sniper's voice still sags and drags, but Land and Fixed is remarkably feel-good, even when channeling the Cure via the Breakfast Club bounce of "Blurred Tonight" or Joy Division on cold-wave throbber "Collides."

Synthetica manufactures dependable, big-hearted joy straight through, whether it's slightly gloomy or coquettish or just flat-out pop fun.

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

LP3 is as wildly organic as instrumental electronica gets without becoming another genre (or five) altogether.

Lady Gaga certainly wasn't born this way, but she's making a convincing case that she's evolving into our most surreally brilliant pop star.

Basically the same thing--improved. [May 2005, p.101]

It's all blatantly unsubtle, but also raucously fun.

All hands sound fully engaged on their first album since 2006, which opens and closes with glorious echoes of X's overdriven guitars and yowling male-female harmonies.

Warrior is likable enough, but not only can't it match its predecessor, it's not nearly as exhilarating or disruptive as what fellow slizzered California trashdancer Dev or assorted K-poppers have done in the past two years with basically the same raw materials.

Where Craft Spells' previous release felt a bit lackadaisical, the more self-aware Nausea, with its themes of growth echoed in its synth crescendos, sports ambition.

All those disparate styles and references should logically clash, yet here they flow seamlessly. By Franz standards, it's relaxed. Believe it or not, it's also compact and concise.

Multicultural, cosmopolitan, intellectual dance music: Ibiza meets punk, dub goes tango, trance gets smart. [Oct 2006, p.95]

The production (from Ski Beatz, 88-Keys, others) adds florid, melodramatic choruses to jazzy boom-bap tracks, blunting the impact of Kweli's dogged street intellectualism.

The weird miracle is how natural singers Scott Paterson and Adele Bethel sound harmonizing (well, singing together) over subdermal synth buzz.

Bragg gets the balance of message and music just about right. [May 2008, p.94]

The shadows come richly dark, and the brillance pierces. [May 2008, p.104]

Because every Eels disc feels like a breakup album, this overt and actual one may at first seem redundant, or worse....But this also may be his most universal work, and it's heartfelt and true

How scary/ridiculous the lyrics are is a matter of personal taste (or lack thereof), but it'd help if the production were more Scandinavian and less like, well, the Rocket from the Crypt rip-off band that singer/guitarist J.D. Cronise was in before he devoted his life to "Paranoid."

Are the Verve back? Maybe. Definitely.

The best Pretenders record since 1994's Last of the Independents. [Dec 2002, p.141]

The first half of this double EP was recorded with a 19-piece Oaxacan band, who pull the songs away from Condon's reflexive melancholy; but next to their pomp, his sparse bedroom electronics on Holland (under the name Realpeople) feel a tad thin.

It's a minor miracle that these Swedish vets' 24-song sixth album clocks in at 94 filler-free minutes, stuffed with late-'60s guitar romps ranging from slow-burn psychedelia to up-tempo struts, and more deliberate mood pieces.

What elevates their debut beyond your average twee-punk rager is the gentle psych dabblings.

The result is a patchwork approach to nostalgia, cherry-picking sounds from dance music's collective memory and rearranging them into something that's more than the sum of its parts.