The record succeeds because of the instrumentals.

Quarantine The Past, a "best of" compilation designed for those who didn't experience the band at the right age (a group that is now well out of college), attempts to put the band's best musical face forward.

Most of The Crane Wife consists of rehashes of Decemberists staples and by-the-books, cookie-cutter indie pop that runs the gamut between pleasant enough ("O, Valencia!") and barely tolerable ("Summersong").

At ten tracks, Bright Ideas doesn’t have a lot of fat, but it ultimately feels like it could have been more successful on the EP format McCaughan is so fond of.

It trades the organ liquidating power of Crack the Skye for a collection of songs that sound as much like a B-sides compilation as a new LP.

What you read is what you get here: an album full of small Scott-Heron samples bolstered by production from a member of the xx. Nothing more, nothing less.

When the members of Mastodon decided to make an audiophile's wet dream of a metal album, they abandoned the vein-bulging spontaneity of their former selves.

When the record's not playing, it's hard to miss it, and the tracks that aren't standouts are simply boring.

White Lunar showcases both what can and can't be accomplished by separating musical scores from the visuals that inspired them. Cave and Ellis seem more at home in smaller films. Music that is part of the historic and epic film needs that film in order to makes sense.

The Magic Position feel[s] more like a missed opportunity than a legitimate breakthrough album.

Instead of copying the aesthetic of 1970s rock ‘n’ roll, they’ve copied some of last year’s more popular indie records. The result, though at times satisfying, mostly feels contrived.

Unfortunately, the dichotomy between the chaotic glee of Akron/Family’s set and Gira’s more traditional leanings diminishes the album’s luster.

For dedicated adherents, A Friend Of A Friend is an essential part of the Rawlings-Welch story, but casual listeners should stick with 2001’s high water-mark "Time (The Revelator)."

Unfriendly and alienating.

Be Still Please occasionally falls victim to over-orchestration. But McCaughan proves too much of an indie-rock veteran and pro to let that sink the entire album.

A disappointing missed opportunity.

What's lacking this time around is the cohesiveness of the Konono No. 1 record.

The playing on the album is strong throughout, and unfortunately the lyrics don’t quite pass muster. Though Hood acquits himself nicely, none of the songs rank near the top of his considerable artistic output.

Things improve considerably when the pair abandons the preening street-cred game; Moffat and Middleton seem finally to realize that if they're going to make a love record they might as well not half-ass it.

In their desire to avoid repetition, however, they’ve indeed strayed somewhere they’ve never been before: the middle of the road.

We, the Vehicles is ultimately too redundant to graduate Maritime into a more mature audience.

This is a carefree release that is meant for our "reptilian" brain.

If you have the time to dedicate to these genre-bending excursions, the effort can be worth it more often than not.

There’s nothing really wrong with a single one of them. The problem is that fans of Johnston’s music have been here before.

The Dears really do sound a lot like late-'90s Blur.

The album is nothing like a career-killer, but it is a career-worrier.

Campfire does little to surprise.

Despite White Bread Black Beer's undeniable beauty, it feels largely out of place as a product of the contemporary spectrum of music.