There are plenty of bands who literally spend a decade working up to an album as well-crafted, confident, and powerful as The Head and the Heart, and these folks managed to knock it out in a bit over a year; is they can make this particular bit of lightning strike twice, we may be looking at one of America's best new bands.

All well and good, and all very entertaining, but this is an album that's meant to be more: it's intended to be a soundtrack to a way of life, but it winds up playing as a collection of songs.

The record may not have the same depth and variety that It Was Easy had, but as a document of what a Title Tracks show in 2011 sounds like, it's pretty much perfect.

Heavy Rocks is diverse; but since it relies on the trio's blasting power over form, it is is more consistent than Smile and sounds like a refreshed and renewed Boris back on deck.

ltimately, The Dreaming Fields is a deeply moving, gloriously articulated album that should not only reawaken the interest of fans, but should win Berg a multitude of new ones.

It's nice to see him in the driver's seat once again, proving he's much more than a chauffeur for someone else's career.

In sum, Attention Please, with Wata's haunting vocals at the fore, is the most unusual and easily approachable recording on Boris' shelf, if not its best.

Street of the Love of Days is a well-conceived, perfectly executed album that captivates you right from the beginning and doesn't let go until well after the album stops spinning.

All in all it's a very enjoyable album, if at times a rather strange one.

This set is a great introduction to James' early raw recordings; however, it excludes a few tracks from the superior The Best of the Modern Years on Metro Blue.

The material is arranged chronologically, but beyond that, one set of tunes stumbles into another without making sense of their different sonic and musical characteristics as Iggy's backing bands (none of whom are credited) and musical approaches shift from concert to concert throughout this set, leaving Roadkill Rising in dire need of some sense of focus.

Diamond knows just how good these recordings are, as indicated by the terrific autobiographical liner notes he's penned for this collection, notes that give this music context, but they're not necessary to appreciate The Bang Years: this is pop music that's so pure it needs no explanation.

Davila 666 have that all-important spark of primitive energy and power that have made bands from the Sonics to the Hives so vital and alive, and Tan Bajo is another great record that all fans of garage rock, new or old, need to add to their collections.

Innings proves underground pop is still very much alive, and Nodzzz have made an album that strikes a perfect balance between simplicity and intelligently applied craft; they've made it a whole lot of fun, too.

At their best, they're an overwhelming sonic force, and Diotima is their best album to date.

With that as an unavoidable comparison point and baseline, as can be heard again on songs like the title track, Time Travel is still a pleasant album, where what comes out more are the moments of variation on the form than the form itself.

Cantrell's all-too-brief Kitty Wells Dresses contains its object's sense of sophisticated vocal economy that still conveys the power of truth in the human heart with elegance and grace, making it a fitting tribute for all the right reasons.

Cosmic Ocean Ship is Todd's most "exotic" recording, but it's easily one of her most ambitious, focused, and satisfying as well.

Hard to imagine any of his future albums beating this one, but it's entirely possible, and all signs seem to point toward this inventive young producer/songwriter being on the rise.

Sloan are craftsman who weld their good taste into charming miniatures, and if The Double Cross retains a hint of familiarity--not due to the source material but rather the workmanship--the group's level of skill assures that this is as comfortably satisfying as its predecessors.

mble at the Ryman may not be the same as hearing Levon Helm play for a few dozen guests at his studio--or for a few thousand fans at one of America's most venerable venues--but it captures a living legend on-stage proving he doesn't have to rest on his laurels to win applause, and this is a hell of a party coming from a guy well past retirement age.

On this consistently hypnotic debut, Austra carve out a place of their own among their contemporaries.

Free is just too derivative to make the impact the band appear to crave.

Nash Kato and Eddie "King" Roeser are taking everything dead seriously, playing for the sake of music itself, giving Rock & Roll Submarine an unexpected soul and heart that makes it a rousing comeback.

Good proof that tranquil moments are just as powerful as deafening ones.

This album is indeed a key turning point for the unit, and easily the most fully realized project in their catalog.

It feels like Damon & Naomi have always been around to soundtrack the inner lives of melancholy dreamers smart enough to seek them out, and with this album they continue to provide the same impressive and necessary level of solace and inspiration, deeply felt songs, and enchanted performances that they always have.

While nowhere near as focused as 2009's White Lies for Dark Times, Give Till It's Gone does possess moments when all of Harper's gifts as a writer and guitarist are evidently clear.