Tiny Mix Tapes' Scores

  • Music
For 2,699 reviews, this publication has graded:
  • 42% higher than the average critic
  • 2% same as the average critic
  • 56% lower than the average critic
On average, this publication grades 4.5 points lower than other critics. (0-100 point scale)
Average Music review score: 68
Highest review score: 100 Trust Not Those In Whom Without Some Touch Of Madness
Lowest review score: 0 America's Sweetheart
Score distribution:
2699 music reviews
    • 78 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    With two exceptions (Desiigner and, uh, Damon Albarn), the [guest artists] completely fail to elevate the tracks in any way, an unfortunate consequence of needing to feature Charli XCX on your album because she’s good and popular as hell rather than because you and Charli XCX have made any particularly interesting music together.
    • 63 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    The blandest rock n' roll record possible.
    • 72 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    A change in demeanor accompanies this change in style, however, and it's a turn for the worse: Phoenix now gesture at being a Serious Group with Something to Say.
    • 66 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    The only thing Arcade Fire’s Everything Now is about is Arcade Fire, which is its most pernicious and pathetic quality. Arcade Fire are no longer Orpheus and Eurydice, lovers doomed to tragedy; now they are Narcissus, the Greek hunter who lost the will to live after staring at his own reflection in a pond for too long. They ask their listeners to participate in this cynicism as they grasp so falsely at explanations for why “we” are like this.
    • 71 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Lily’s nonchalant declarations of self-esteem leave me cold. And as soon as she traded generically upbeat ska/reggae samples for a bunch of ho-hum electropop beats, she became indistinguishable from her imitators.
    • 79 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Frustrated fanboy headscratching aside, the point is simple: All Day is a misstep of the worst kind, wherein Gillis' craft devolves from transformative to parasitic.
    • 66 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    This is easily the biggest disappointment of 2006.
    • 70 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    This game of literal musical chairs completely cripples The Most Serene Republic’s musical aims to the point that the album’s 40-minute runtime feels 20 minutes too long.
    • 69 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Audio, Video, Disco is simply too unfocused, too half-baked, and too busy hiding its inadequacies with superficially interesting window-dressing to fit in either of those settings--or any other.
    • 75 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    If The Raconteurs were any other group (that is, if The Raconteurs didn't have Jack White), the press/Blogosphere would slam it.
    • 59 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    And the mixing problems extend far beyond Corgan’s voice. The Band of a Hundred Murderous Guitars has turned into a modern-radio-rock band.
    • 69 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    In some ways, it is as an exercise in stripping away everything that makes The Flaming Lips such a truly special group, leaving only that which serves as decorative tinsel to their music, hanging limp and lifelessly in the air.
    • 64 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Musically, there are too many things going on and too few things going on. Every track sounds more or less the same, and every track sounds like a poor heyday tribute.
    • 69 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    What Will We Be is a better, more realized album, but it’s still a dud, filled with mediocre, half-composed songs and tediously unfocused songwriting.
    • 51 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    While the tension and confusion have passed, we are unfortunately left with a pretty disappointing piece of work.
    • 71 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Imperial Teen sound here like they're trying to squeeze some new flavor out of a chewed-up piece of gum.
    • 66 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    The shallow cynicism and apathy that animates so many of its songs are under-interrogated by its writers, instead finding form as a pessimist’s non-committal, inconclusive pouting.
    • 74 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    What was once shambling and humble and fun has turned into another anonymous, swaggering, guitar-driven indie rock act.
    • 65 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Wildlife is nothing more than an album that sounds fine in the background--even at a volume you couldn’t help but pay attention to--yet ultimately fails to make any kind of memorable impression.
    • 72 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    It’s “Lost Boys and Girls Club,” “Cult of Love,” and “Trouble Is My Name” (“Trouble is my name/ Is it your name too?”), endless clichés in songwriting, narrative, subject, and sound.
    • 69 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    LaValle’s been trading in spitshined tonal conventions and vacuum-sealed beauty for quite some time now, and this might well be his best effort at putting it to record. But there are already three Album Leaf LPs that do this exact same thing, and the prospect of him doing that thing slightly better simply fails to excite.
    • 63 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    There’s potential for a good album from the group, but they have yet to find a unique voice and passion with which to write.
    • 63 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    The sound of Stigmata is grayed and stale--reaching, perhaps, for 18th-century Baroque, but instead winding up stuck in a rusty soundcard from 1998.
    • 74 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Every aspect of the album sounds like the full-length equivalent of a Spotify Chill Out playlist: flat, disposable, inoffensive (though “technically-sound”) 2010s muzak.
    • 68 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Sure, Nine Black Alps may be a more "genuine" concoction of Nirvana's formula, but how can this be considered revelatory or of interest when it comes across as so faceless?
    • 74 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Menos el Oso takes the act of melodizing the banal to dizzyingly silly new heights.
    • 55 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Maybe we're supposed to love this album because it's the musical equivalent of a KFC Double-Down, filled with fancy co-stars and production, deep-fried, and devoid of any intellectual or nutritional value.
    • 78 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Sun
    Its songs are mostly amalgams of tired pop music tropes/techniques and trite realizations
    • 80 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    In the end, Ribot’s considerable talents are sadly lost among 12 disjointed tracks that range from out-of-place cacophony to irritating cliché.
    • 70 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Our Love To Admire isn’t even a contractual obligation to push off without care. But boy does it sound like one; a band phoning it in, out of steam, and running on a few lingering fumes and smoldering coals.