Like the Austin Powers films, there's a sense that authenticity has been betrayed in some vague and troubling way.

Sure, they meld muscular riffs with smoky organ meditations, folky landscapes, pompous orchestration and the occasional IDM skitter, but not without losing the transcendent detail that makes each of these genres worth savoring and holding on to.

As entertainment, Tenacious D succeeds surprisingly well -- for the first few listens.... The only long-term replay value you'll get from this record will come from playing it for friends who haven't heard it.

Harper performs his knock-offs so earnestly you'd think he were resuscitating some forgotten art, rather than aping tunes that are played 24/7 on oldies radio.

The songs here are resolutely pop, almost bubblegum, and though they're sometimes buoyant, hyperkinetic, even fun, they have almost no depth or resonance to them.

You'll either find it cloying and saccharine or heartfelt and precise, or maybe a little bit of both.

Though marred by a few missteps, it's mostly enjoyable, if unchallenging.

I'm used to hearing more layers in this type of music, and the simplicity here is surprising -- not necessarily in a good way.

Although the Cooper Temple Clause pack plenty of celestial firepower and darkwave ambiance into their six-minute movements, by the time they unveil the epic "Written Apology", the sheer compositional weight is too much for a mortal listener to handle.

Like their NYC peers Liars and the Rapture, HHH are adept at fusing dancefloor polemics with angular guitar atmospherics, yet their sound lacks the sweat-soaked sexual ardor that those groups flaunt so remorselessly.

While there's no denying the hedonistic charm of "Emerge" or "Turn On", it's also obvious that the album slips easily into a beat-happy rut, never quite pulling off the total and complete transfixion it was so obviously designed to achieve.

Anyone searching for a wholly absorbing listening experience should look (and listen) elsewhere.

While there are plenty of MTV2-ready tunes, the record doesn't bear much repetition.

Taken as a group, Heroes to Zeros' slower songs are the musical equivalent of a month-long sinus infection: heavy on the repetition, sleepy detachment and sensory deprivation.

The passion that once seeped from the group now appears manufactured.

Plenty of albums split the difference between gems and junk, but the biggest problem with Glass House is that it lacks any discernible anima; the band seems to be phoning in their performance from a comfy armchair somewhere in Milwaukee.

I so want to hate this album.... If only the album flat-out sucked, I'd be on much firmer ground. Too bad it doesn't.

Unfortunately, it seems that the only thing he really learned was how to write a Pavement tune, and he's having a little trouble trying to figure out what to do with himself now that Pavement is no more.

There's nothing wrong with her performance -- it's just undistinguished.

For a band that regularly draws comparisons to Beta Band and Pavement, Vehicles & Animals is all too pedestrian.

Their songs routinely beg for a spoken message, to the point where their originals sound like dub versions.

I wouldn't go so far as to say that White People should never have happened... but Paul and Dan would do well to move on while they're still ahead.

While the Big Chorus and post-hardcore theatricality are hardly disparate stylistic traits, it's odd that Rogue Wave would embrace them after establishing themselves as a nuanced pop outfit.

Although the group's previous outings routinely got bogged down in forced experimentalism, Broken Ear Record at least keeps the pace sufficiently frantic, which allows us to excuse some (if not all) of its more self-indulgent moments.

I can respect the need to innovate in hip-hop, but variety here comes at a cost -- there's no coherent or consistent melodic through-line.

You say you don't give a shit about lyrics? That's good; most of Echoes' lyrics aren't worth giving a shit about.

Mid-tempo rocker follows mid-tempo rocker without any change of pace to keep things interesting.

Statistics... come off like an emo version of Coldplay.