1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

Login or Register to rate this item.

As this blues-bred, North Dakota–born folkie attests on his sixth album's standout jangle rocker, he's ready for the "Big Time" (or some variation thereof). On the bratty gem "You Don't Know My Friends," he's never been more believably torn up, and "Axe & Stump" quilts together quirky verse arrangements with a triumphant, Rhodes piano chorus.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

Login or Register to rate this item.

After dissolving his warmly existential outfit Grandaddy, singer-guitarist-keyboardist Jason Lytle escaped to the mountains of Montana. But instead of the nakedly emotional folk echoes of fellow isolationist Bon Iver, he's produced a textured homage to the lush and laid-back West Coast dream life of his youth.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

Login or Register to rate this item.

The sixth studio album from this Florida five-piece represents a dual rebirth -- it's their return to an indie label and first full-length since experimenting with the cartoonishly thrashy side project International Superheroes of Hardcore.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

Login or Register to rate this item.

These Smiths-loving, post-hardcore pioneers most likely recruited Flaming Lips and MGMT producer Dave Fridmann to finally disassociate their sound from the second- generation emo they helped define. But rather than straining for pop sophistication, Fridmann simply brightens and focuses the band's darker, more obtuse corners.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

Login or Register to rate this item.

When performing others' material, Mark Kozelek has always been stronger the more extreme the reinterpretation (see his melancholic versions of the Cars, Yes, and John Denver). But this odds-and-ends comp is unusually straightforward.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

Login or Register to rate this item.

The problem with Bayside's seventh release is messaging: Frontman Anthony Raneri wants to empathize with his listeners, but his emotions are too rigidly guarded and judgmental. The unapologetic refrain of "No One Understands" does little to dull the song's self-indulgence, and on "Demons," Raneri deconstructs someone else's shortcomings to the point where you're sympathizing with his subject.