Even if it came out in 1996, it would still be self-absorbed, turgid, over-produced and soulless.

Sweet Christ, in no universe will Big Sean be greater than Notorious B.I.G. or Big Pun, and at the rate he's going he'll be lucky to end up a better rapper than Sean Combs, let alone Sean Carter.

It doesn’t challenge listeners or give them anything unexpected or even asked for, really (who's waiting around with bated breath for 'Ring-A-Ling?'), but it’s already a certifiable hit.

This album will sway neither the faithful nor the unbelievers from their positions along the borders of her stalled momentum.

What makes BAYTL really frustrating is the fact that besides V-Nasty's appearances, the album has a chance to be excellent.

How does this sucker sound? Not very good.

"Cartoon Motion" was a nice moment for Mika, but this second album does not improve or advance what he did before. In fact, he seems to have regressed through his venture into childhood on The Boy Who Knew Too Much.

Comparing his remarkable contributions to Deerhoof with this boring, nondescript effort suggests that Cohen should open his studio doors and welcome collaborators.

Thrilling prospect though it may be, the result is a disaster.

The album has a consistent lack of meaning and genuine feeling.

In the Dark is a big, loud, dumb record, filled with songs about not respecting women you bang on the bus ("Someone's Daughter"), feeling empty inside ("So Lonely" and "I Don't Even Care About The One I Love") and being for real ("I Am For Real").

It essentially exposes Doherty’s biggest weaknesses: his trite lyrics, his less than perfect voice, and his inability to sound interested in anything he’s doing not under the title "Libertines."

In the end, Calling the World left me bored as hell.

Sounds like a band mashing all the current trends and ending up with nothing.

None of the band’s stylistic flourishes are pulled off well enough to convince you they could do one style effectively, nonetheless the 10 they try out here.

A predictable, oversimplified, boring mess.

The lyrics are especially vapid here in the Stadium Arcadium.

Ahead of the Lions is pure press-a-button-out-comes-album radio pap.

Even with slick production the instrumentation is lackluster, missing that rattling punk energy; in their overt politics and complete lack of subtlety, the lyrics are trite.

Origin is a saccharin mouthful of bloated riffs, burdensome lyrical clichés, and second-rate studio trickery -- songs that lurch rather than rock. In other words, it’s Oasis at their best or the Doves at their absolute worst.

[A] ham-fisted attempt at being exactly like everything else.

If Red Album’s songs were formulaic, shiny, and easily digestible like everything on Green or Maladroit, the vacuity of the new songs wouldn't be as big a problem. But 'Heart Songs,' 'Thought I Knew'--these are just plain bad.

The problem with the album goes past its unmemorable music.

Sleepy, sporadic and inconsistent.

Weak and vanilla.

I admire Cunniff's attempt to create positive, breezy music. I just wish it were better.

By trying to define they’re own specific legacy, they’re actually ramming it down their listener's throats, and daring the music world to question them.

The simpleness just keeps on coming until it's simply deadening.