Show Your Bones

1	Gold Lion 3:07
2	Way Out 2:51
3	Fancy 4:24
4	Phenomena 4:10
5	Honeybear 2:25
6	Cheated Hearts 3:58
7	Dudley 3:41
8	Mysteries 2:35
9	The Sweets 3:55
10	Warrior 3:42
11	Turn Into 4:05

Barnes & Noble

"Mature" certainly isn't the word that comes to mind upon hearing the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' beer-soaked, wildly flailing debut -- an album that established singer Karen O as one of the new millennium's truly original, freak flag-flying icons. The fact that said word does enter the psyche when describing the follow-up, Show Your Bones, doesn't detract from the mesmeric qualities possessed by both the singer and the songs, but it does signal a noticeable change of heart for a band that now seems more interested in having a dialog than a confrontation. That's amply evident in the shimmering guitars that drape "Gold Lion" -- one of O's most unflinchingly come-hither statements to date -- as well as the subtly sexy "Dudley," which slithers along like one of Kim Gordon's contributions to mid-period Sonic Youth. There are still swaths of spiky surrealism to tempt intrepid folks prone to spasms of No Wave fandom -- most notably the throbbing "Phenomena," which borrows smartly from Liquid Liquid's booty-centric post-punk classic "Cavern." But those who were drawn to the YYY party by the siren song of "Maps" will find plenty here to keep them bouncing along until closing time. David Sprague

All Music Guide

As explosive as they seem on the surface, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are also an ambitious, thoughtful band that keep pushing the boundaries of their music. They moved from the rawness of their early EPs to the polished art-punk of their first full-length in just over two years, and this drive to keep topping themselves is what led to breakthroughs like Fever to Tell's gorgeous ballad and hit single "Maps." After taking three years to follow up Fever to Tell, and scrapping many of the songs that they came up with while on tour supporting that album, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs returned with Show Your Bones, the yin to their debut album's yang. While Fever to Tell and "Maps" dealt with falling in love (and being more than a little freaked out about it), Show Your Bones is a breakup album. It's funny -- if the Yeah Yeah Yeahs had made this album earlier in their career, Karen O's cutting lyrics and Nicolas Zinner's choppy guitars would've sliced the poor ex to pieces; after all, on "Bang," from their self-titled debut EP, they (hilariously) wrote off a lame one-night stand with "as a f*ck, son, you sucked." Show Your Bones, however, tries to go much deeper than that. It's only natural that using heartbreak as inspiration would lead to brooding, reflective songs, but the fiery, independent spirit that made the Yeah Yeah Yeahs so great initially is drained out of this album. Even on the rockers, Show Your Bones is too subdued, restrained, and overthought. The cryptic lead single "Gold Lion" (which sounds like a mash-up of Love and Rockets' "No New Tale to Tell" and Siouxsie and the Banshees' "Peek a Boo") is vague and a little plodding; though it eventually worms its way into listeners' heads, it's surprisingly unfocused, compared to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' previous singles. "Phenomena," with its stomping riffs and fazer-like synths, is a more natural progression from the Fever to Tell style, but it still ends up feeling more indulgent than inventive. Aptly enough for the kind of album it is, Show Your Bones' softer songs are some of its strongest: "Dudley" sounds a little bit like Sonic Youth covering the nursery rhyme "Hush, Little Baby," while "Cheated Hearts" is a big, rousing ballad in the vein of "Maps." And, as on Fever to Tell, the band loosens up as Show Your Bones unfolds, coming up with some interesting songs in the process. "Mysteries" is a jealous cowpunk number that sounds tossed-off, but has more bite and fun in it than the rest of the album. On "Turn Into," the band takes this twangy sound and turns it sweet, resulting in one of their best songs yet. Heather Phares

Rolling Stone

This album is, above all, a textural triumph, a quantum bounce from the brittle jitter and insect-chatter fuzz of the band's 2001 Yeah Yeah Yeahs EP and 2003's full-length Fever to Tell. David Fricke

Entertainment Weekly

On one of the year's nicest surprises so far, the Yeahs say no to surrendering to retro rock's stylistic prison. (A-) David Browne

Los Angeles Times

1/2 From the first words and rhythms of the opening track "Gold Lion," it's clear the Yeahs are operating with the confidence of a great band.... This is minimalist rock with real feeling and a subversive, epic range. Steve Appleford