The band’s first album in a decade is more haunted than its arena-sized choruses suggest.
“Worn Out Tune” says it all, with its bluesy but not-quite-bleak atmosphere, and Elizabeth Ziman happily embracing “the ones we just can’t get enough of.”
“Doncamatic” is a far cry from Plastic Beach’s grandiose kitchen-sink arrangements.
That the album is a failure despite the authentic passion behind it only accentuates its participants’ respective ruts.
The Incredible Machine stands to be a transitional album for Sugarland.
Like most rural, Ben Gibbard-esque, Arcadian-folk singer-songwriters, Dave Beck has a fair share of girl problems.
Kings of Leon has amped up the “revival” half of their revival-rock offerings for Come Around Sundown.
Even as a bared-soul, one-man show, Lennon adjusted and perfected himself with clever production techniques.
I Am Not a Human Being is not a mixtape, but it’s not really an album either.
Stevens’s conceptual obsessions continue on this trippy, orchestrated journey that is, in two words, beautifully neurotic.
Evidence of Humanity meticulously and miraculously achieves the half-nervous, half-confident joy of extemporaneous performance.
It’s great to hear the alt-country vets sounding more alternative and more country than they have in years.
The compositions strive less for exoticism than a single sensibility filtered through Portuguese, Japanese, or German lenses, depending on the song.
The collection stands as a testament to how one can find a balance between commerce and art.
On Many Great Companions, Williams showcases both her uncommon consistency as a singer-songwriter and an impressive list of collaborators.
Guster doesn’t offer any surprises or major aesthetic departures on Easy Wonderful, their sixth studio album.
It’s hard to imagine that Charleston, SC 1966 won’t continue Rucker’s hot streak within the country genre.
Write About Love confirms that Belle and Sebastian is the type of band that’s fully capable of genius, just not reliably or often.
Call it a prog-spring.
Jojo Burger Tempest is neither entirely good nor bad, but rather a schizophrenic monstrosity.
Doo-Wops & Hooligans kicks up no fuss, and shortchanges on its promise of both doo-wop and hooliganism.