Too often we get ill-fated experiments in electronic circa 1997 and overly polished replications of their biggest hit to date, "Electrify." [Sep 2004, p.116]

For those who used to throw parties, but now have dinners, Kings Of Convenience will bring desert and a bottle of expensive red wine. [Oct 2004, p.103]

Like many bands before them who similarly created magic with their debut albums, this Brooklyn trio can't quite harness the same level of energy for their sophomore effort.

Listeners hoping for a radical departure from previous outings may be disappointed to find that the disc doesn't necessarily break new ground... [Sep 2001, p.152]

The record is a winning release, if not entirely novel, and the sound of a likable band honing their sound while refusing, somewhat obstinately, to alter it.

A diverting listen. [Jun 2003, p.94]

Berlin's long-running tendency toward grit-glitz, which musicians from Bowie to Peaches have channeled in their work, is the inspiration for this fourth record of functional fun.

Beatwise, Playtime culls Wiley's best dubs from the last year, with tracks like 'Bow E3' and '50/50' flexing textbook mastery over grime's sludgy polyrhythm.

Despite the fact that the album is largely a deconstruction of masculinity vs. feminity, Yo Majesty isn’t afraid to tone the sex down to hop on the progressive tip. 'Never Be Afraid' displays the cosmic gospel of Jwl B. However, this retreat into tamer territory isn’t indicative of weakness; chalk it up to what is actually a significantly well-rounded and versitile rap duo.

Predominately shimmering and languid, at its raciest Divine Operating System achieves a poppy, disco canter that trades ass-slapping soul for sleek sensuality. [Sep 2002, p.104]

Ecstatic may not be the warm follow-up some people were expecting, but it's an equally fascinating, engaging album. [Jun 2005, p.78]

A big, heaping spoonful of bland. [Mar 2007, p.96]

Earnestly sung lyrics in the vein of Jack Johnson or John Mayer, 80s-style instrumentation (percussion, guitar licks, synths), and constant rhythmic switch-ups are elegantly crafted. This album isn't boring, it's just too polished for the raw sounds and styles it draws influence from.

Another befuddling album that offers what seems to be a gigantic middle finger bookended by disrupted toe-tappy pop numbers. [Oct 2002, p.96]

We Can't Fly is over the top, trying to embrace everything Vito De luca ever loved about radio, or all the music he ever loved, period. It's a cosmic mess of styles and guests. People who are fans of his DJ sets will not feel at home in this setting, with no crowd pleasers except for the title track.

Everything Goes Wrong is not a brazenly experimental album, nor is it rootless and shifting for cohesion.

Despite some other choice cuts, there’s no cohesion to hold it together.

Taken as a whole, the album does have a certain cohesiveness that’s lacking in most dance “albums” but many of the tracks fail to break new or interesting ground, and it leaves one wishing their potential of last summer could’ve been realized.

Distracting at times is Thomas’s voice--he seems to take pride in being purposefully off key--but breezy opener “Girls FM” and later the low key “Eyes Music” calm his shrieking affinity and keep him just where he needs to be; melodic.

Trash, Rats and Microphones is tailor-made for the contemporary electro-crazed (dance like tomorrow ain’t promised) landscape.

With partner Panda One, they unleash a concoction of soul, electronica and disco that’s occasionally bizarre, but consistently funky.

Japanese Motors’ debut is a solid dose of garage pop, but chances are, it won’t change your life.

Certainly a nice full-length, though it would be interesting to see what a vocalist could add to their formula . [Jun 2004, p.86]

A few of these tracks feel more like unfinished sketches than completed songs, but if it's sparse folk-noir you're after, why? delivers the goods. [Aug 2003, p.90]

A sincere winner. [Mar 2006, p.123]

Sol-angel and the Hadley St. Dreams boasts Thievery Corporation at the production helm, giving little Knowles' album a sophisticated sonic texture of jazzy pop, lounge inflections, and brassy drama.

For those who've wondered what The Who's rock operas would sound like if rerecorded by Captain Beefheart and Stevie Nicks, it's time to break the rules. [Oct 2004, p.103]

No boredom here. [Jul/Aug 2005, p.108]