There is zero expectation for Blondie to create Parallel Lines 2.0. That would require an actual miracle. Pollinator, however, is too removed from oh so many things that made Blondie great to be acceptable.

Everything sung here is manufactured to conjure up the same bullshit sense of nostalgia that the band's James Joyce-inspired name is supposed to. [#12, p.93]

Despite a committed effort, Wonderful Wonderful isn't a title that accurately reflects its content.

For people who enjoy overly polished, sub-par bar bands. [Winter 2008, p.89]

This is astonishingly horrible and completely unlistenable. [#7]

Unoriginality at its best. [#8, p.109]

Dull, aimless, slightly pretentious, and overall a work that few people will ever find reason to put on the stereo. [#7]

Over the wandering course of these 11 tracks, Francis is the aural equivalent of a boxer who's had five too many concussions coming out for one last payday. [Spring 2010, p.68]

Not quite dull enough to be entirely forgettable, Where You Stand plays it safe with middle-of-the-road everything.

Collett uses instruments sparingly. That coupled with his clear tones is too simplistic a combination. [Oct/Nov 2012, p.128]

Those acid-fried roots (The 13th Floor Elevators, The Black Angels) are 95-percent gone, replaced by too much space and too much polish as Blackwell tries to be a soul singer. Sorry to ruin it, but he fails. It's very difficult to appreciate Myth of a Man; it's so leftfield of what Night Beats had going.

Williams' songs are extremely repetitive, relying on MAX/MSP texture for their variance but proceeding at such a pace that it's easy to zone out, a tendency exacerbated by Williams' apparent three-note vocal range. [Fall 2007, p.77]

Unfortunately, creativity is nonexistent on Get Awkward. [Spring 2008, p.82]

Getting mauled by that white tiger sounds a bit more exiting. [Year End 2008]

Golden Grrrls exists in a limbo more grey than beige that apparently doesn't appeal to anyone. [Mar-Apr 2013, p.103]

Spencer and Matt Verta-Ray go even farther into chugging rockabilly riffs and hiccupping Elvis poses they explored on their 2006 debut. [Summer 2007, p.90]

The fragments don't fit together, and one ends up dreading the next mistep. [Fall 2009, p.74]

Painting With is by a distance the most annoying album you'll hear this year, and not just because it sounds exactly how those people imagine the band always has.

Nothing on this album is new, nor is it a fresh take on over-tread electronic music ground.

An album that manages to sound like a blend of every Britpop and Madchester also-ran's 50 shades of beige. [Jan-Feb 2013, p.88]

After a fierce opener that sounds like they've never been away ("nothing has changed", screams Dennis Lyxzén over raging instrumentation), things then, regrettably, go downhill.

It is this very same forgettable, plodding, lo-fi characteristic that strikes the right chord with those that think The Cribs are the answer to rock 'n' roll.

Their debut heaps vague twenty-something lyrics onto a colorless emo palette and even producer Rob Schnapf can't save Adult Nights from being as cold as a Granite State ice storm. [Winter 2009, p.79]

Sia's latest full-length We Are Born, is, in a word, confusing. [Summer 2010, p.85]

...Featuring might make a great stocking stuffer for mom, but even she might have trouble swallowing over an hour of Jones; innocuous and predictable soft rock. [Year End 2010, p.77]

If you're really into jazz (and I mean really) or are a Four Tet completist, this is for you; if not, I'd stay away. [#13, p.92]

While this could have been a record defined by atmosphere, the near-absence of energy and long, formless instrumental sections will have listeners tuning out long before it hits any sort of stride.

Listening to Varshons 2 is like catching up with a childhood friend--on surface level its pleasant, but as the conversation persists, the friendly emptiness becomes too painful to bear.