The Telegraph (5/5): The beauty of Adele's singing is how effortless it is. The depth of her notes is luxurious with the slightest of croaks in her upper range lending a twist of soul. She gives herself space, words falling neatly with music and rhythm, albeit she has the advantage of being able to stretch vowels and add syllables apparently at will.
The Independent (3/5): As 25 continues, it's gradually swamped by the kind of dreary piano ballads that are Adele's fall-back position. It leaves things sounding a little too much like they had been designed by committee - which, on reflection, is probably exactly what those industry types were so eagerly awaiting.
Billboard (4/5): On 25, the material is occasionally inspired, sometimes dull, but always serviceable -- and with Adele, that's enough. Ballads like 'Love in the Dark' and 'Sweetest Devotion' revisit timeworn themes but with Adele's voice swathed in echo, sounding like she's wailing beneath the vaults of the planet's most cavernous cathedral, they hit hard.
The Guardian (3/5): It's an album that could have done with more variety, more sense of an artist using the space and freedom that shifting 30m units buys you to move on, at least a little. As it is, 25's big issue is that, in every sense, it dwells a little too heavily on the past.
NME (3/5): She channels the hushed sensuality of 1950s jazz pinup Julie London with gloriously intimate results. Yet you just can't shake the feeling that the whole thing is just far too safe. You can't blame team Adele for following a formula that has so far resulted in 30 million album sales but here's to a little more innovation on '29'.
The Chicago Tribune (3/5): Her new songs look back on the wreckage of that relationship and seek some sort of closure, if not healing. Adele, who shares a co-writing credit on each of the 11 songs, isn't much for flowery syntax or literary allusions. Her directness is a huge part of her appeal, her emotional and lyrical transparency inviting everyone into her world.
The Fader: There are tracks on 25 that tread the same ground as 21 - one of loss and regret, though here it's often for an intangible past rather than a broken relationship - but they do so without ever becoming wholly consumed. When the sense of loss reaches saturation point, she wrings it out and moves on. I wasn't ready then, she sings on the album's closing track, I'm ready now. She's dwelled on the past long enough; it's time for the present.
The Verve: 25 has achieved the kind of omnipresence that'll make it part of the fabric of people's lives, the same way people remember growing up on Rumours or Thriller or Come On Over. Because it's going to be around for a while, it's a relief that the album is personal, nourishing, and warm.
The AV Club (A-): A lot of people can sing, and sing marvelously, but it's far more rare to find someone as authentic in their delivery as she is. Adele is one of the rare artists in the modern landscape that gives more of herself away in her music than on any kind of social media platform or to the paparazzi. She's the anti-Kardashian.