Pitchfork

What have the years done to this man? He's gone from a charged, rejected youth with a cutting wit and a killer rock band almost as influential as the Pixies to an aged, disrespected dinosaur of rock. It's so wrong, people! And yet, so right.

Back in his day, this guy could outsmart even the most clever lyricists. He was up there with the greats-- Leonard Cohen, Elvis Costello and Lou Reed. The guy tossed off brilliance with the ease of a shit. Not anymore-- he's been reduced to the na-na-na's of "Dyslexic Heart."

The true shame is that Westerberg is pretty much just dissed on for mellowing with age. I mean, the stuff on Suicaine Gratifaction isn't all that bad. Granted, the record's no Let It Be or Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash, but it does have its redeeming moments. On tracks like "Final Hurrah" and "It's a Wonderful Lie," the man proves he can still write a snappy line and pen catchy music to accompany it. Of course, the old zing of drunken yowling and the thrill of youth that made Paul's early years so awesome are absent, but that's to be expected. It's just such a damn shame to hear him without 'em.