The album sounds beamed in from an earlier decade, but it runs deeper than nostalgia.
Happy Hollow is far too grouchy to be taken seriously.
She looked a lot like Lady Kier’s little sister during her one-night stand at the Maritime Hotel’s Hiro Ballroom in New York City.
Post-War is a lush blend of humming synths, organs, gentle strings, and deceptively simple acoustic strumming.
Thunder Down Under, a live recording for Australian radio, is an explosive self-eulogy.
The Panic Channel delivers pure rock n’ roll through and through.
Perhaps Paris Hilton should have called her debut Album.
This is precisely what you might get if you let a 16-year-old and Samuel L. Jackson loose in a music studio.
Like all Mountain Goats albums, of course, there are some gems.
While Janet Jackson struggles to find her footing on the rocky surface of 2006, newcomer Cassie is climbing straight past her.
Everything she’s done post-“Genie in a Bottle” has been advertising for the new-and-improved Christina Aguilera brand.
Surprisingly, the band’s sound feels just as loose and fresh as it did 17 years ago.
It takes mighty big huevos to feel up to the task of reinterpreting a clutch of rock classics from the ’80s
This twofer is a bracing, willfully odd delight that rewards the patient and frustrates the short-fused.
DiFranco takes a relatively stripped-down approach to her ever-insightful meditations on matters both personal and political.
Avatar is bold and intense enough to justify Comets on Fire’s swagger.
To the Races more often evokes Iron & Wine than Springsteen, but the end result is still quite lovely.
Selecting a singular moment is difficult, since I’m Your Man is packed with one show-stopping performance after another.
The album’s tunes explode in an artful cacophony of buzz saw guitars, shout-along choruses, and startlingly precise lyrics.
Ultimately, Blue on Blue is very much like an exquisitely cut cubic zirconium.
Kill Hannah’s glam-electro-rock fusion comes together in an über-slick way that makes one want for their debut.