Much of the record just feels too low-key and even-keeled in comparison. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.98]

More late-or post-Pixies than early-Pixies, then. [Nov-Dec 2013, p.101]

She finds too many ways to distract from her voice elsewhere. [Nov-Dec 2013, p.99]

Think the poppier side of The Velvet Underground with Television's Tom Verlaine on Vocals--but not quite as good as that would actually be. [Nov-Dec 2013, p.99]

Mole City is effective and enjoyable on several levels. What's missing in most tracks is some sizable degree of tension, something not so much applauded as internalized. [Nov-Dec 2013, p.97]

It can be a little sombre, a little raucous, and sometimes rough around the edges, but is consistent throughout. [Nov-Dec 2013, p.94]

There's not a whole lot of variety, but what they do, they do well. [Nov-Dec 2013, p.93]

Unfortunately, their grown-up aversion to trouble can topple into polite, forgettable niceness, with the strongest feeling inn offer being a gentle brand of contented melancholy. [Nov-Dec 2013, p.91]

A pleasant, if uninspiring listen. [Nov-Dec 2013, p.88]

At best they rattle along, with toe-tapping intensity ("I'll Never Tell"), pretty Beatles-esque melodies ("Swimming"), or interesting spectral acoustics ("New Words of Wisdom"). At worst they feel like tired, half-sketched ideas that never really take off; the showcase for a huge talent stuck in a low gear.

It's reflective and expressive, but at times lacks the immediate power and hooky qualities of The Blow's best songs.

Fellow Travelers was never intended as more than a stopgap release between records; that said, it's hardly as essential as any of Shearwater's self-penned albums.

Sadly, these giddy heights ["Spirit" and "Dominion"] are frontloaded into the record. What follows is a tedious trundle through lifeless terrain.

Everything feels uncertain, as though the band is looking to move forward onto something a bit more shoegaze but unwilling to part from the influence of Fairport Convention, and as such is a little confused.

The result is Schrödinger's cat: simultaneously interesting and dull until you listen to it. Then it's just a bit dull.

With all its quirkiness, Caramel is dreamy and comforting, a bit like the confection it's named after.

The album's humor is similar to Heidecker's TV work, sharing much of its strange not-sure-if-this-is-supposed-to-be-funny moments; if it hasn't resonated with you before, it won't here. Tim & Eric fans should enjoy it, though; dumb joke lyrics aside, it's surprisingly catchy.

This is supposed to be dance music and with that in mind, this is some rather bumping stuff. With headphones on, however, you can't help but wonder where Souleyman's music really wants to go.

An interesting listen, sure, but one that lacks the necessary direction.

Where every track on The Flower Lane felt essential to the whole product, most of the material here feels like warmed-up leftovers.

There are odd, almost-redeemable moments present but, recorded as it is, the album had no chance.

It's a pretty weightless affair but Rice's earnest delivery buys him a lot of forgiveness. [Sep-Oct 2013, p.94]

[An] uneven and unimpressive debut.

The album moves thoughtfully through sentimental tracks. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.102]

With Bitter Rivals, Sleigh Bells haven't quite hit all the targets they're aiming for.

While there are similar moments of brilliance [such as album closer Chrome Country] buried away, their fleeting existence only serves to underline what could have been. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.92]

If the rest of the album were as strong as those three songs ["A Good Sadness," "Astro-Mancy," and "I Love You Too, Death], this would be a masterpiece and a powerful growth for the band. As it stands, they can at best serve as a taste of what's to come.

A band reuniting implies unfinished creative business. In the case of Seasons Of The Day, one strains excessively to imagine what that business might be. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.92]

There are a few genuine gems on the record, but you have to dig around for them amongst a lot of tracks that meander about, exulting in their own nostalgia without really going anywhere. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.88]

On Hesitation Marks, Nine Inch Nails hints at new directions, but hesitates to take a leap.

While the songs on Dream River aren't what anyone would consider pedestrian, they don't feel particularly daring or weighty. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.87]

Troubadour sounds like a mixtape from a chameleonic band that does many thing well, but nothing that's identifiable as them. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.94]

On Back To Forever, the music fits better; here, Lissie has found the music to match her vocal gift. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.92]

There's some gold in this wonky album, but you'll have to muscle through a lot of muck to find it. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.93]

A little more disco and a touch less unsettling than those previous efforts that earned them "post-industrial" status. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.102]

It's not quite as strong as Roots & Crowns or All My Friends Are Funeral Singers, but Stitches is a fine addition to a quality body of music. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.87]

The Monkeys have pulled off their most technically adroit and controlled recording of their career. Whether that's a good thing for longstanding fans is another matter. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.87]

If Idle No More doesn't necessarily sound like the product of manic intensity and dripping sweat, there's no questioning the spirit at the heart of this solid, memorable set. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.91]

The party is at its peak. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.130]

There are glimmers of the band that went before. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.130]

This'll be one to cozy up with come autumn. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.102]

They wrongly assume dark tones will lead to increased substance, a mistake that sees Stills burn out in a banal fog of distortion. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.102]

Even though In Love is fun, Peace doesn't break any new ground. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.98]

A more significant or signature contribution from the band might have made the Prince Avalanche soundtrack a more intriguing listen and a more compelling stand-alone experience than the polite frictionless record presented here. [Aug-Sep 2013, p.96]

If no particular tracks pop out from the others, it's as much a testament to the record's consistency as its limited range.

Parts of the album feel too sloppy, too wayward, and too unfocused to really encourage repeated listens. When Pond tightens their sound, the cutting grooves are hard to ignore.

Yes, It's True has interesting moments, but ultimately makes for an insubstantial and at times deeply vapid experience.

This is an unrelentingly difficult record, with all semblances of pop music and even melody eschewed for a Hound of the Baskervilles trudge through a gothic swamp.

Ultimately, it's unfair and even glib to say this album doesn't hold water because it has no "Home" or "40 Day Dream," but all the same, one laments the loss of the magical, poppy Midas touch Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros once wielded with such ease.

Songs From The Vanished Frontier has enough fuzz on the fringes to keep its bubbly, mellow vibe from going flat. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.97]

While there's a touch of that haunting, backwoods territory that gloomy metallers such as Wino and Steve Von Till have dipped into tapping into their rustic roots, Grim Tower is weirder and less eerie. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.87]

There's no denyng the quality of the musicianship on show here, but on a majority of tracks this descends into 1980s metal wankery. [Jun/Jul 2013, p.99]

Experimenting with a change of direction for your third record is understandable, but drifting so far away from the qualities that made your sound so individual? That's a little harder to forgive. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.88]

Going organic may have its advantages, but for Stephen Wilkinson it's a move that doesn't come naturally. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.86]

Some of the songs on Planta begin as dark as the worst in Interpol's catalog. It's really no fun, and the tone makes it a lot harder to choke down the lyrics. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.86]

Sob Story is a good time, but the party clears out as soon as the record stops spinning. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.91]

While these breezy charms are easy to embrace, the cutesy retrograde of tracks such as "Negative Space" and the ineffective "Johnny" come off as a weary step backward. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.90]

Nothing about Pythons is going to win over anyone who didn't like the band's debut, nor will it alienate existing fans. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.91]

No One Dances Quite Like My Brothers switches so jarringly between moods from track to track that it doesn't really know what it's supposed to be. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.91]

All in all, it's a good romp. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.92]

The overall effect is a sturdy, if familiar-sounding, debut from a couple of no-nonsense pop culture junkies who sound far more interested in writing to-the-point pop songs instead of getting totally drunk on '80s and '90s nostalgia. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.94]

Singer Nathan Willett's voice comes off as wandering over uninspired changes. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.97]

More than on their first album, it feels as if there's something missing. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.97]

There's a certain defiant spirit and explosive danger that noises its way through the "retro," thumbing its nose and daring you to call it just kitsch. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.97]

An overly mellow, maudlin, and melancholy outing that takes a well-played vibe and rides it until a 44-minute album seems overlong. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.97]

There's a living-room warmth to the sound and an elbow-close intimacy. [Jun-Jul 2013, p.99]

The issue that plagues False Idols is that we only ever seem to hear the seed of each idea. Credit goes to Tricky for variety, but it would be a more rewarding experience if we were able to listen to the songs evolve and develop.

This is the album Hungtai needed to record, but not necessarily the record his burgeoning audience wanted to experience.

The majority sounds like demos for a fuller, richer album that Welsh undoubtedly has the skills to write.

Desperate Ground feels more like an unrelenting march than an odyssey.

It's not the terrible record to be savaged that an army of hipsters hoped for, just a very plain one that sounds like it was made by 14-year-olds, for 14-year-olds.

While enjoyable from song to song, the experience of the entire album is tiring.

The charmingly-titled "Skim Milf" and unwittingly apt "Riff DAD" epitomize the band's predilection for chopping out any of the exploratory sounds of their earlier work in lieu of mercifully short, chugging dad rock riffs.

Melodies are often masked by the instrumentation, and there are very few, if any, big sing-along choruses. But every Guided By Voices album has a few true gems, and English Little League is no exception in that regard. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.92]

Though the mechanics are excellent, the spark of originality is missing. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.91]

The score works best when the syrupy Hollywood strings are designed to interact meaningfully with M83's chunky John Carpenter-style synth work.

It's lovely, it's almost moving until you remember what you're listening to, but it's hugely inessential.

As with Born Ruffians' previous albums, there is nothing especially bad or even enjoyable about Birthmarks. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.91]

It may not be as vital as the similarly-schizoid post-rehab records, but it's nice to know Earle can turn on that sort of talent at will. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.106]

Despite coming across as borderline pastiche, Indigo Meadow's reproduction of throwback sounds comes from a genuine place. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.90]

The songs on Ghost On Ghost are not as strong as those from his past. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.92]

They're at their best riding bizarre, loopy hooks, which on this record is only half the time. [Jan 2012, p.75]

The Terror is a record that feels high on concept, but short on songs. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.92]

With the increased polish and sheen, one can't help thinking that some of the charm is lost. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.103]

Despite the minimal aura throughout, luminous field recordings of Ritter's current girlfriend and concrete scene setting keep this LP from devolving into a series of narrow-minded, scribbled diary entries. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.106]

Moon might be a bit of a victory lap, but it's a fun ride nonetheless. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.106]

The New York collective continues to produce intelligent music with its seventh album. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.103]

Their overly straightforward rock tends to be a little more Jefferson Starship than Airplane. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.103]

A pleasing (and punishing) noise-rock excursion. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.103]

As the album progresses, a unique melodic sensibility comes to the surface. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.102]

Though beautiful throughout, it never quite delivers a punch to the gut before it quietly goes down. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.101]

It's a collection that rewards with multiple visits. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.100]

Too much of Kavinsky's debut LP is overly repetitive, and little of it leaves any lasting impact. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.100]

Hi Beams is a good time, for sure, but it's not quite the high energy block party we've come to anticipate from this duo. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.100]

The album is a bit of a mixed batch. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.99]

The duo delves into vocal-driven minimalism far richer and darker than previously heard from Tosca. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.97]

On this slightly-too-long-at-13-tracks album, the missteps come when they stray from the tried-and-tested blueprint. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.96]

The songs are well and good, the lyrics phenomenal at times, and the music solid. Yet there are enough moments when the album falls flat to deflate the impact of those golden moments. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.96]