If you give a Nine Inch Nails album a cookie, it’ll want a glass of milk.
Stars of Track and Field’s music lies somewhere between Radiohead and Mark Kozelek.
It’s safe to say that You Am I captures a good cross-section of their talents on Convicts.
The album’s form is at the very least consistent with the band’s feedback-heavy, rambunctious live performances.
Bill Plympton’s world of fantasy is right on target with that of fellow shock animator Don Hertzfeldt.
Progress is the name of the game for Audioslave.
TV On the Radio finds and walks a delicate balance with their sophomore full-length release.
Not to be confused with the infinitely superior Balls Between the Legs.
The most bothersome fact about Harpo’s Ghost is that it’s an album whose success is dependent solely on marketing.
The Panic Channel delivers pure rock n’ roll through and through.
This is precisely what you might get if you let a 16-year-old and Samuel L. Jackson loose in a music studio.
Kill Hannah’s glam-electro-rock fusion comes together in an über-slick way that makes one want for their debut.
As Without Feathers continues, it becomes clear that the Stills still have some things to work out.
While “not being phoned in” doesn’t make something great by default, it also indicates that Pearl Jam is back on track, so to speak.
Every Man For Himself is every bit the crafted material an American Idol album is.
The album is more of a blues record than a blues-rock one.
Other True Self is the exact medicine that Vernon Reid’s Black Rock Coalition is asking for.
The one-two punch of the film’s script-in-a-can and 80% of the cast’s negative mindset is difficult to overcome with a last-second goal.
Faith, in one way or another, seemed to be on trial frequently at the 30th CIFF.
Opening explosively after its intro track, the album is divided into two distinct yet similar sections.