While on occasion disappointingly heavy handed, the more wistful moments shine through the murk. [Nov 2002, p.105]

This bloody enormous rock demeanour means Stone Roses fans may not be amused. [Oct 2002, p.96]

The line between hypnotic and tediously repetitive is occasionally crossed. [Sep 2002, p.94]

Like most homage platters, the affair is only as strong as its weakest moments. [Nov 2002, p.113]

It's ever so nice, except for the nagging feeling that a disembodied voice is about to say, "I'm going to count backwards from five and, when I snap my fingers, you will wake up and remember none of this." [Sep 2002, p.106]

The focus remains upon Lightbody's gauche romantic vignettes; nirvana for those who believe the world could usefully sustain a second Lou Barlow, but over an album's duration akin to persistent immersion in lukewarm herbal tea. [Sep 2002, p.104]

Relative to her potential, she remains an underachiever, straitjacketed by Nashville craftsmanship in writing and arrangement. [Oct 2002, p.104]

Morcheeba's lightly shaken, hardly stirring sounds will doubtless satisfy fans, band and record company. [Aug 2002, p.104]

There's got to be something better, man. [July 2002, p.94]

High Society [proves] Schmersal capable of a good, straight-forward pop song. [July 2002, p.100]

You finish listening to 18 feeling as if you've heard a decaffeinated version of Play. [June 2002, p.98]

For all his sour wit, however, Zevon remians a musical craftsman who's happy to leave the lyrics to others. [July 2002, p.102]

These songs move so languidly they seem self-pitying. [July 2002, p.104]

Half of Release feels like an old routine -- looming melancholy and not-quite-cheery disco by the pound. [Apr 2002, p.108]

It's not perfect by any means, and having two of the weakest tracks in pole positions doesn't help. [May 2002, p.98]

The actual tunes may not be particularly strong, but crucially, at the centre of it all Natalie croons and sighs with all the clear-eyed moonfaced sweetness of Juliette Binoche baking cakes. [Dec 2001, p.116]

Astonishingly, her own production makes much of this guff zing along with dirty guitars or big drum beats and improbably insinuating choruses. [Apr 2002, p.100]

A few tracks sound blunt and under-realised, but mostly this is the sound of a champion artist getting good again. [Mar 2002, p.116]

There's an uncomfortable homogeneity about it all. [June 2002, p.100]

Fans are well served, but newcomers might tire waiting for the group's charms to percolate. [Feb 2002, p.93]

Every one of these 12 self-composed, played and produced tracks is absolutely stickled with hooks. [March 2002, p.108]

Love Is Here is juvenalia -- persuasive, and suggesting greatness should the band have the courage (or the license) to cut loose. [Nov 2001]

With a couple more new songs, this could have been a great second album rather than a stop-gap release. [Jan 2002, p.90]

A sprawling, instrumentally dazzling work which all but spurns pop songwriting. [Jan 2002, p.99]

It's a puzzler.... Given brilliant execution, no doubt we'd still have come out with out hands up. Instead, it's patchy and the worst comes first. [Dec 2001, p.114]

This album stumbles on the lower slopes of her ambitions. [Mar 2002, p.101]

Represents a giant leap backwards. [Nov 2001, p.112]

It is an unconvincing record as a whole, and parts of it are profoundly dull. [Oct 2001, p.124]

The Id simply turns up the levels on what made her debut so big, in the process overshadowing the background detail that made that album so special. [Oct 2001, p.128]

Most tracks succumb to unambitious disco stylings. [Sep 2001, p.108]

More judicious editing might have rendered this a classic return to form, but there are still enough high spots to keep nostalgic fans happy. [Sep 2001, p.92]

An album which makes his previous excesses seem conservative.... Dazzling though this bombardment is, it's a draining experience. [Jul 2001, p.97]

If all you want to do is throw the same funky shapes you threw a decade ago, this long-awaited outing will more than suffice. Otherwise, it's the same old same old. [Jul 2001, p.114]

A slightly awkward but ambitious beginning.

Overall, the pickings are too thin for a band of their capabilities.

The pair's lack of ambition might eventually grate but listen to this on your own on a rainy Sunday, with the thermostat set on 25 and its hallucinatory qualities might well invade your being.

Sadly, their steadfast refusal to engage the emotions is irritating and alienating. [Feb 2001, p.95]

Her sinuous, Lady Dayish voice sets her apart. Unfortunately, it's not to be heard in full effect until about a third of the way through Mama's Gun... [Jan 2001, p.104]

Cook has attempted to vary the Fatboy formula here but it's all gone a bit "mature".

The higher production values simply water down R.L.'s natural vigour. [Jan 2001, p. 103]

Though Black Jesus and Graves To Dig weld slow-burning hip-hop beats to politically astute lyrics, elsewhere the abundance of self-conscious singing and menopausal guitar noodling sees the album shuffle, uninterestingly, towards the middle of the road.

Nothing here will change your life, but rest assured that there's also little in the way of filler. (Oct 2000, p.104)

Kid A is intriguing, eccentric, obviously a grower, but by Radiohead's standards it can't help but disappoint.

There are glimpses of Curt's former shambling genius; I Quit and Pieces Of Me are both mournfully melodic, while Tarantula has the nimble bluegrass pickings of Up On The Sun-era Meats, but elsewhere rap-metal stupidity (Hercules) and over-polished rock plodding (Batwing) sour the beans.

In a nutshell, if you liked the previous stuff, you'll like this... it has as much right to a place in the world as Huey Lewis and the News ever did.

Jones admits a queasy air of self-congratulation to her third album of jazzified covers.

An endearingly petulant collection of nasty hardcore guitar tunes.

Neither great nor golden, then, but not bad either.

Often, Sinead's words are infected with the pernicious post-therapy psychobabble that blights the contemporary female singer/songwriter...

Given time, fans will warm to Peasant, but ultimately the inconsistency of it's songwriting is a tad disappointing.

In the end, it's surprisingly worth it for the few great, strange tracks.

Gentle, reflective, angsty girl'n'guitar fodder that's often more worthy than interesting. [July 2000, p.104]

A souffle-light concoction of tape loops, odd samples, and fey vocals. [July 2000, p.118]

Ecstasy is definitely a Lou Reed record for Lou Reed fans. If you're a happy regular shopper at Lou's Boutique, this one'll fit nicely on the shelf alongside all the others.

Though never dragging its feet, it rarely stretches its creative muscles.