The album sounds beamed in from an earlier decade, but it runs deeper than nostalgia.
Pica Pica is an intimate affair that still shakes the rafters.
Round achieves a kernel of accessibility that’s necessary to survive on a label like Interscope without surrendering the tics that make her tick.
Decemberunderground is destined to give AFI that larger mainstream audience they missed out on the last time around.
In the Maybe World is an accessible, if lyrically opaque, work that should please fans of avant-pop.
The film’s soundtrack is as ephemeral as the exhaust from Lightning McQueen’s tailpipe.
There’s a certain intangible glow radiating from The Loon.
It’s always a bit disarming to see someone who has performed thousands of times comment candidly on his or her still-developing skill of tuning an acoustic guitar.
Ambient snippets provide the connective tissue between the album’s 10 songs.
The album is a black hole of pomp and nothingness, a perfect document of the times.
Since this is still ostensibly an album of outtakes, there’s perhaps an even stronger case to be made for excising the instrumental cuts this time.
For the uninitiated, listening to a Peaches album is like being socked in the face with a rubber vagina.
Sinners Like Me doesn’t capitalize on Eric Churchs distinctive writing with an identifiable sound.
Like former blog darlings Annie and M.I.A., CSS doesn’t have an obvious analogue on either the mainstream or indie-pop scenes.
Blue Collar is paced so that the irreverent stuff offers some welcome comic relief without breaking the momentum of the more serious songs.
Martyr complexes rarely make for real art.
Cold As The Clay is Greg Graffin’s tribute to old-time American folk music.
To enjoy the first half of Madonna’s show, without reservation, is to condone the singer’s propensity for self-congratulation.
The show reached a palpable climax with inspired renditions of three of the Walkmen’s best-known tracks.
A thoroughly competent and enjoyable score, it never swats you with the “oomph” of the best hero-movie music.
Corinne Bailey Rae is a triumph of mood over tangible substance.