This record’s focus on adolescence is somewhat ironic, because as an artistic statement it’s M83’s most mature yet.
Cut Copy teams up to shake some skinny asses with the less famous half of storied production team the DFA, Tim Goldsworthy.
There are only a few different types of songs on Crystal Castles’s intermittently exciting self-titled debut.
By reveling in pastiche, London electronic duo Groove Armada lives up to expectations on their fifth studio album.
The consistent surprises that Dan Bejar’s vocals generate are one of the main things keeping these songs evasive and interesting.
I wonder if Kelley Polar likes figure skating.
Funplex neither redefines nor sullies the band’s sterling legacy, which is probably close to a best case scenario.
One of the things that South by Southwest teaches best is that choice, and the illusion thereof, is potentially paralyzing.
Honestly, I’m not really sure how it’s possible that South by Southwest exists.
Saturnalia is defined by a monotony that not even a kitchen sink could save.
This record doesn’t so much represent a new direction as it does a return to past themes.
One of the most contemporary (and least pleasant) aspects of X is its scattershot production.
“Autoclave” is at least pretty, and its interpolation of the Cheers theme song is the album’s funniest moment.
For all the strength of the variously loud and soft moments, the record is at its best when the band attempts to holistically integrate the two.
The band attempts to square its outsize floor-filling ambition with its previously established skill for intimate moments.
Sadly, most of these songs are not really songs, because that’s not what the Mars Volta do.
The album’s pleasures stand as something warmly new from a major talent.
Machine music this unrelentingly intimate is worth the attention it requires.
Ghostface is no different from other crazy capitalists like Jeff Koons.
Do we need the Wu-Tang Clan?