With a vast and powerful sound, here we experience U2 without the excruciating self-indulgence that turns listeners away from their more recent works.
The record warrants a listen for the highlights alone. The problems, such as they are, stem from the country vein of the album. It borders on twee at times.
Kendrick explores a multitude of personal predicaments, but it's difficult to stay focused on what the record is actually trying to convey. It feels incomplete.
Because of the Times is laudable record with a plethora of well written tracks, but it sits there with a mediocre comfortability, and does little to push or challenge.
You'd expect huge, theatrical arrangements topped with sizzling guitar solos, but this wasn’t to be. Most of the songs on News of the World are weirdly tame.
There’s no pretence. Here stands an honest-to-god ‘Murican wailing about everything from young love to the plight of the working classes; take it or leave it.
Who would be mad enough to single-handedly rank Bob Dylan's 38 studio albums? Why, Charlie Clissitt of course. Two great minds for the price of one.
Parachutes is nice-feeling music written by nice-seeming blokes. As is the case with all things Coldplay, it’s easy to mock, but it’s easy to like as well.