Some new ideas are welcome more than a decade into the Jersey outfit's career, but they could've been used to more exciting ends. [No. 150, p.59]

Mozart's Mini-Mart is full of short, witty synth-pop songs such as "When You're Depressed." Think Magnetic Fields at their most ephemeral. [No. 150, p.53]

What it's missing is haunting songs--calamity songs, the kind of songs that used to proliferate on Decemberists albums like soot-smudged Victorian orphans. [No. 150, p.49]

Ultimately, neither the album's ample, artful ambience nor its pasted-on continuous sequencing can help it transcend the ho-hum resignation of its title. [No. 149, p.59]

Among the filler that drags down the LP's second half, fulfills contractual obligations and pushes the Gwar story forward. [No. 149, p.57]

Luciferian Towers is a muddled mess of underworked ideas strung together. [No. 148, p.57]

The results are about as bold and memorable as a spent glowstick. [No. 148, p.55]

Fans and obsessive will love this, but it may not qualify as a return journey for the rest of us. [No. 147, p.55]

An emphasis on instrumentals is intriguing, but they're the pleasantries you'd fear. All are pretty in a disconnected, band-that-hasn't-released-new-music-in-13-years way. [No. 147, p.58]

Multi-instrumental wizards Kattner and Thorburn trade off on guitar and keyboards, with Plummer supplying the rhythmic anchor, to produce a spectral sound that complements their instrumental digressions and vocal anomalies. [No. 147, p.57]

The single-minded pursuit of a sound that was fresh about the time that Melkbelly's members started kindergarten makes for an album that's competently executed but easy to forget. [No. 147, p.55]

He [Emil Svanangen] has a high, expressive tenor that often slips into a keening falsetto that fights to be heard over the sound of the dark, frequently overwhelming synthesizer symphonies that fill the background. [No. 147, p.55]

The Gradual Progression manages to keep a curious balance between high-concept art and Fox's own fiercely independent spirit and virtuosic talent. [No. 146, p.55]

None of the tracks approaches the frenetic monstrosity of the Public Enemy song they're named after. But "Strength In Numbers" and "Who Owns Who" are some of the most ripping music anyone involved had made in years, and they're not all repeating themselves. [No. 146, p.59]

The duo is only revisiting what made Death From Above faves 13 years ago without realizing how poorly it has aged. [No. 146, p.55]

You have to admire the survivalist nature at hand here and the ability to craft an album that doesn't smack of inorganic hashtag laziness like those of many contemporaries. [No. 145, p.59]

The obtuse nature of the song structures, content and riffing are exactly what one expects ... just dressed up as a "surprise." [No. 145, p.55]

It's hard to imagine the album's latent pacing and fragmented lyrical content piquing the interest of many outside of AnCo's hardcore fanbase, but it stands as a compelling step forward. [No. 145, p.61]

More often the singing is submerged in the mix, making it impossible to understand the dreamy wordplay that makes Oelsner's lyrics so memorable. [No. 145, p.59]

Gangster Star features a much stronger single (the idyllic "Shine A Light"), while Jealous Machines waders a bit further into the narrative forest. [No. 144, p.59]

This is an honest and harmless record that isn't trying to be anything but the summer 2017 soundtrack for middle-aged males operating, patronizing or loitering within tattoo/piercing emporiums everywhere. [No. 144, p.59]

[The final track Love Is Love] has the sprightly energy that's missing on most of the record. [No. 143, p.61]

[Dave Davies is] mostly restrained here, content to strum as he and Russ sing together. [No. 142, p.54]

The lyrics are overwrought, and the music is dark but lacking the edge that would make the songs compelling. ... Thankfully they bracket the album with "Love You To The Sky" and "Just A Little Love," up-tempo gems that prove they haven't lost their magic touch. [No. 142, p55]

A set of wistful, stirring anthems. [No. 141, p.61]

It's a smooth-sounding work you can easily imagine serving as the soundtrack at your favorite hip urban restaurant or retail establishment. [No. 139, p.61]

The pulse of their motorik grooves feel more mechanical than menacing, and the decision to put '80s-vintage synthetic drums and pomp-rock synths up high in the mix distracts from evil intent. [No. 139, p.59]

With guitar ace Marc Ribot and pedal-steel master Eric Heywood along for the ride, she continues exploring the intersection of hope and heartache. [No. 139, p.57]