The music is accessible and poppy without dumbing-down the analog arrangements or their coffeehouse terrorist aesthetic. [#84, p.114]

Rich in imagery and suggestive of enviroment -- arctic, urban and mental -- Pan Sonic chisels a sound contradictory in its makeup, utterly synthetic and metallic yet somehow deeply organic. [#82, p.144]

Super Sound makes up for any lack of focus with attitude and a prevalence of splendid, melodic pop. [#81, p.120]

There's a quality of randomness on The W that prevents it from cohering as an album. But even if it's just a collection of songs, The W is undeniably impressive, packing the kind of gritty, aggressive anthems that have been notably missing from most of the recent Wu solo albums. [#82, p. 148]

To call Stankonia the album of the year would be easy. It would also be somewhat incomplete. The Atlanta duo's fourth album is more than simply a great record; it's a complex tome that enmeshes contemporary hip-hop values with a timeless Southern soul, while pushing the envelope damn near off the table. [#79, p.134]

In The Mode is at its most invigorating when it eschews the now tired-sounding rare groove and cool-jazz format of 'New Forms' for a sound that combines more bounce-friendly radio sounds with a hint of menace. [#79, p.136]

Photek has always been about his drums more than his bass, so it doesn't surprise that some of the tracks on Solaris are more techno than jungle. But vocal house? (#78, p.115)

The stance on Essence is less confrontational than its precursor, more a life-affirming offering to elemental forces. [#79, p.128]

Mirror Conspiracy's thoughtful drum programs hardly become drowsy or monotonous... Unfortunately the occasional lyrical overdose also leaves some tracks seeming a little too light. [#77, p.130]

The freshness that figured into De La's previous four albums feels a touch staler here. (#78, p.116)

An album that blends genres and forms to spawn a rare breed of funky breakbeat-inspired rock.... Unfortunately, the vocal collaborations with the likes of Jon Spencer, Bobby Gillespie, and Martina Topley-Bird are a bit ill-fitting and disappointing. [#79, p.124]