There aren’t many groups whose fifth album is as riveting as their first, but there also aren’t many groups with a vision as clear, focused and defined as that of Camera Obscura. And with Campbell at the helm, five more of the same will be just as welcome.

An immediate comparison that comes to mind is Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks, though by no means as expressive or adventurous. Away is, however, one of Okkervil River’s prettiest records to date.

Hypnotic Eye is a bastion of consistent excellence.

An album of warm colors and earthy textures, Lateness is an album for warm sweaters and hard ciders, backyard firepits and late-autumn barbecues.

None of this is to say that the songs, themselves, aren't excellent in their own right, but with a voice as heavenly as Correa's, you can hardly go wrong.

Royal Blood shifted gears and embraced a more polished sonic profile and neon color scheme for Typhoons, given that intensity and darkness reinforce its narratives in this album more zealously than its predecessors.

Whether this is the beginning of an extended musical partnership or just a one-off, it’s a powerful and rewarding album. That’s especially the case for those who have been through the more challenging parts of the broken relationship mill.

Old Flowers conclusively proves that Courtney Marie Andrews has reached a difficult to attain level, showing once again that the timeworn trope of “breaking up is hard to do” can be dreadfully unsettling personally but also creatively rewarding.

Adams does his job just well enough on this album that we’re willing to join him on that downward spiral and maybe, as listeners, locate the catharsis that eludes the lonely “I” living the songs.

His obvious joy and dedication to this classic approach is contagious and the secret sauce that makes Hunter’s seventh release arguably his finest.

On Death Song, their greatest strength is harnessing the aesthetic they’ve worked for more than a decade to refine, and it’s as rich and powerful as they’ve ever sounded.

There is no rock here, although the prog nature of the music incorporates those influences, yet the album never feels bloated or one-note.

With A Kind Revolution Paul Weller adds another exciting notch to his belt of terrific, under the radar (at least in the States) projects that have made him a singer/songwriter with impeccable credentials who never rests on his already impressive laurels.

It’s surely as powerful as, and possibly better than, the twosome’s impressive debut.

What matters is that this is a really good record, and while it would have been nice to hear some instrumental breakdowns--especially from banjo player Richard Bailey, who is way understated--it's nice to know that Nashville is capable of putting out something besides more bad pop.

Hubbard has always been a lyricist of gritty honesty. Here though, with help from an infusion of blues, his music is equally as taut, dynamic and compelling.

On a single disc that runs just under an hour (each performance was about double that), there is unused time to add more. What’s here though is terrific with invigorated versions of Isbell’s best tunes given a crackling edge. Despite a mix that buries the keyboards, the sound is sharp and crisp, making this a great souvenir for fans and a solid primer of Isbell’s talents for newcomers.

Sex, Dope & Cheap Thrills fills in crucial missing pieces of the iconic record and makes a worthy addition to it for those looking to explore more of where the mojo that created it came from.

The combination of Burnette’s characteristically genuine, acoustic based production, Giddens’ sumptuous voice and a conceptual set list that never feels musty, yields a wonderful album whose restrained pleasures reveal themselves gradually over repeated playings.

This set confirms she’s a rugged, uncompromising young talent with a distinctive voice and take-no-crap attitude primed and ready to take Americana into the next few decades.

Molly Tuttle was right to take time before releasing her first complete CD. The production, playing and songwriting coalesce into a striking statement that shows an already developed artist well on her way to the next level of her still nascent career.

Given its rallying refrains and carefully considered sentiment, Peace…Like A River easily ranks as Gov’t Mule’s most moving effort yet. This River flows courtesy of soul, sentiment, passion, and purpose.

It’s an immaculately produced gem and there’s nothing currently out there like it.

The eight songs, culled from a crop of 30 that came in the wake of a difficult breakup, become dirge-like if you put them on in the background. Shut out the distractions and bring them in close, and they become razor-sharp reflections of the long road out of purgatory.

A few more rockers on the order of the Armstrong co-write “Strangers & Thieves” would have raised the overall temperature, but each of these 14 tracks is an exquisitely constructed gem.

Those unfamiliar with the artist can start here. But longtime fans should be prepared for a freshly energized Dylan LeBlanc, one who has found new vitality reflected in the lyrics “Dying to be born again.”

Most telling is how glad he is to be free of concept-Obscurities contains songs from five(!) different projects, all of them rescued from any context but musical, which is all the overwhelmed guy who made five projects in the first place wants to focus on in his old age.

Hopefully this plush, beautifully arranged and produced album will get more exposure than her previous release; it would be frustrating to have to wait another eight years for its sequel.

With After The Disco--Broken Bells’ second full-length album--Mercer and Burton up the ante with a set that builds on the promise of their debut and fleshes out that aesthetic into an even stronger set of songs with loftier ambitions.

The album is far more interesting when Clark is more introspective, pleading “please don’t hang up yet” on the gorgeous “Hang On Me,” or simply showcasing her noisiest guitar riffs on “Young Lover.”

It’s a perfect combination of restrained vocal phrasing with madly creative production and a certain candidate for one of the finest albums of the year.

There’s little about American Head that deviates from the Lips’ usual surreal sound. The overarched arrangements, replete with shimmering rhythms, soaring instrumentation, hushed harmonies and all sorts of cosmic noodling remain intact. If anything, they borrow from early Pink Floyd, hitching a ride to gain interstellar overdrive.

Ford and her band have increased the quality of their brazen, breathless blend of garage-soul to an even more satisfying level with the new Untamed Beast.

If these results reflecting about two years of work in Rhodes’ home studio with producer Chris Price don’t quite capture the vibrancy of his earlier work, they are close enough not to disappoint those who stuck around waiting for them.

His calm, ageless voice is perfect for this material and it’s clear he’s in his element on 13 songs that capture and condense the essence of his Americana blues, soul and country influences.

Finn is still as sharp as ever with his details and as striking as ever with his lyrical gambits.

His latest, instead, is rife with sumptuous arrangements steeped in gorgeous layers of piano and organ, with much subtler licks of guitar sliding in like skin on silk sheets.

Twelve members and five records in and the Dears have made their best album yet -– Degeneration Street is one of the rock albums to live up to in 2011.

Beneath this veneer of mirth and melodrama, there’s an artist who gives full reign to intrigue and intellect in equal measure.

Over the course of 16 tracks, Costello flexes his stylistic muscles and exercises that famously acerbic wit.

It’s Okkervil River’s most mature album yet--coming after six previous records that were already fully formed.

There are no enduring classics here like the songs on 2007's Live At Massey Hall, or anything to rival the material that helped define late '70s AOR from, say, American Stars 'n Bars or Rust Never Sleeps. But this is a record well worth having, and it's a blessing that we still have enduring artists like Neil Young creating such vital music.

It’s the start of a somewhat short but compelling 10-track, 41-minute ride that rocks hard while remaining firmly in country/roots territory.

The result is this consistently enjoyable, often terrific, frequently challenging 11 track, 51-minute aural rocket ship exploration quite rightly tagged “delirium” by its duo of frontmen.

It's his easiest, least labored sounding record in years, still lushly produced yet not overly fussy.

While this is far from anything that may land on commercial radio, there are just enough compositional moments on Burnside’s finest set to push it a little closer to widespread acceptance while maintaining the tough, raw foundation of the uncompromising music that came before. And… you can dance to it.

Hag’s lyrics always feel natural and lived in and Bogguss succeeds with his material because she doesn’t try to oversell it.

The concept of “country rock” seems clichéd at this late date, but Shook and band exemplify how that amalgamation remains effective when the writing, singing, and lyrical concepts are as sharply conceived as on the illuminating Revelations.

It all coalesces into one of the more impressive, duskier (Am I living in a nightmare daydream? she asks in the mid-tempo title track) guitar-driven albums of the year.

Even on slower material, like the teary closing six-minute ballad “I Think About You Daily” featuring stressed, experimental strings arranged by Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood, Hynde injects so much riveting emotion that few will be disappointed.

With any luck, he’ll have plenty more gas in his tank to release albums as rugged, diverse and memorable as this in the foreseeable future.

El Dorado is an inspiring and impressive work displaying another side of King’s talents, albeit one that he has shown glimpses of in the past. It’s certainly his most expressive and arguably finest recorded moment.

Magpie is chock full of tracks that show the Avett Brothers are (very wisely) growing their sound, while remaining true to their core principles and what listeners like about them to begin with.

Be The Cowboy is a standout because of its restlessness, Mitski winding each lonely melody through the peripatetic music and always landing someplace unexpectedly moving.

Ultimately, it’s the cheery calypso flavor and uplifting sentiments of “Better Days” that offer a hint of hope. With that in mind, this particular Settlement ought to be one that long-time fans find easy to accept.

Dropping a few songs would have made this stronger overall, but there is no escaping the spooky, druggy vibe created over the course of an hour’s worth of pretty yet eerie and ultimately edgy music.

It’s when you start listening a bit closer that the nuance of the writing, the subtlety of the arrangements, and the magical interplay of the two voices, in harmonies alternately high-spirited and heartbreaking, start to break you down and leave an indelible impression.

This album demands the full attention of the listener, an old-school concept; those that put the most into it will get the most out of it. Dig in. It’s worth the effort.

The album is finished a scant 32 heart-pulsating minutes after it started, but nothing is rushed. Rather, the Lovell sisters have opened the door to a dark, bluesy, portentous worldview, something sinister and threatening even in its lightest moments. It’s like little else out there, so hang on tight and join them.

Millsap’s subtle style allows the listener to discover the emotional vortex of his often confused characters, helping us identify with their motives without casting judgment.

The Beast In Its Tracks is a gracious, relentlessly honest, post-breakup record.

Bella is a flat-out stunner, the work of a completely original songwriter and performer, and one of the young year's most startlingly eclectic and thoroughly fascinating albums.

Rarities alone aren’t the reason for acquisition, and in truth, the 16 tracks assembled for Assembly offer only a small taste of Strummer’s true genius. Yet, the music that is included still manages to provide an expansive overview of a career that was in full flourish at the time of his passing.

Based on Among The Ghosts, the band sounds tighter, more intuitive and incisive than when they started in 1998.

Finally, it seems, she's found her sweet spot in burnished southern folk-pop.

Unlike other such projects that prop up ageing rockers with a surplus of headliners respectfully going through the motions, Lewis is totally in control as he cranks out these tunes with a fire and intensity that doesn’t seem to have dimmed despite his six decade career.

There isn’t a huge sonic difference between Onion and the past few Clams releases, but the songs and instrumentation are tighter and better crafted with defined hooks and choruses.

Only eight songs long, Encore builds momentum and then leaves the listener wanting for more. One can only hope that there’s a further encore for this Encore.

For the most part, this is an album that constantly projects joy and musical adventurousness, qualities which have signified this career for more than a half-century.

Each song revisits some real or imagined past that leaves the narrator empty-handed or disappointed, culminating in the impassioned mid-album plea for faith and renewal.

Somewhere between the clear narrative of Boy's Night Out's Trainwreck and the Dear Hunter's ongoing musical saga, it's one of the most compelling realized moments Trophy Scars' madness has produced. [May 2014, p.94]

On Eleven Eleven, Dave Alvin continues his transformation from journeyman musician to becoming one of the people he always idolized: the one of a kind bluesmen and storytellers, rock and rollers and poets, folk singers and road warriors whose influences he's absorbed since he was a kid growing up fast in Downey, California.

In Reverie, Joe Henry and his group have created a raw, raucous and messy masterpiece.

Familiar but undeniably brand new, Halcyon Digest is forty-six minutes well spent--a loop that can repeated as many times as you'd like. Stay patient. If you skip out on a track, you'll be missing something.

Between the album’s imaginative, original art work and music that follows suit, this is one CD you’ll want to hold in your hands and stare at as you strap in and let the inspired music unspool.

The tone is consistent throughout, a sound so giddy and engaging, that it can easily break down barriers in order to allow for a communal embrace.

The 13 tracks are crammed into less than 40 minutes (seven cuts clock in under three), which also suits the group’s single-oriented, tightly knit aesthetic. It helps make Year of the Spider such a nonstop delight, one that casts its web by expanding and transcending Shannon and the Clams’ “punk oldies” moniker.

The end result is a festive power pop brew, a combination that mines instinct and intelligence. It’s fair to say then that Seeking New Gods is indeed a truly divine experience.

Presley’s latest album is a masterclass in songwriting that shows the singer’s limitless potential.

Even non-ZZ Top fans will appreciate the vitality and exuberance that jumps out of every track and those who have followed Gibbons’ 45 (and counting) year career should be delighted with this energetic if temporary change in direction.

For longtime fans, A Steady Drip, Drip, Drip is just another impressive notch in Sparks’ ever expanding career belt. But newcomers can come aboard here, then work themselves back through nearly five decades of similarly ecstatic, challenging and generally delightful Sparks music, most of it well worth hearing.

There’s fascination found in ever single setting, and his new album, Patience, is no exception.

Hawthorne mines polyester grooves, crackly sample beds and rich, analog production for his vintage soul sound, and it’s a wonderfully sumptuous thing.

Fame, fortune and influence haven’t dulled their initial impulses, something made clear on the hypnotic unvarnished vibe created throughout the superb Dropout Boogie.

With her new release, Under the Pepper Tree, Watkins excels once again, courtesy of a tender and touching musical tapestry drawn from nostalgic cover songs that bring to mind childhood memories and shared stories etched in comfort and caress.

According to Paul Simon, his new album So Beautiful Or So What is the best work he has done in decades. That's a bold proclamation. Even more startling: it's not hyperbole.

All in all, it’s a sumptuous box set and one that’s mined with obvious depth and devotion.

He’s not reinventing any wheels, but Road is an enjoyable, even impressive, release from an aging rock star who still, to trade on the album’s theme, has plenty of gas left in his tank.

[A] terrific, moving and occasionally emotionally intense examination of the black experience in America.

Ultimately, Long Lost could be considered an opus of sorts, a fully realized work that’s epic, intriguing, expansive, and yet introspective. It’s an emotional encounter that delivers on all it promises far more often than not.

The album is so beautifully performed and meticulously crafted that its heartfelt, smooch-ready nature will likely result in at least a few babies born nine months after release.

There is really not much to separate this from the late-period, post-millennial albums that Cohen started churning out to ease financial issues, and those records maintained an imposingly high standard.

Layers of distortion and droning feedback pour from the speakers, almost fighting the melodies for dominance (and losing), with everything coming together in an organic, unforced manner. [Mar 2014, p.90]

Three discs worth of rehearsals are hit and miss; many songs are fragmentary and others don’t match the eventual live versions. Plus, the live shows don’t vary all that much in their set lists. Casual fans will probably stick with the ten or so Dylan songs they play on satellite radio. But true fans will greedily gobble this up and be more than pleased.

This is more than just a stroll down memory lane since the emotions and lost love laments remain timeless, as does the sound of a man who understands his musical strengths and plays to them with class, authority and soul searching intensity.

It’s an interstellar pop journey well worth taking.

Her eighth studio release flows with remarkable continuity. Notwithstanding the melancholy circumstances, Moorer is rocking out forcefully on chugging, swampy gems.

Tape Deck Heart [is] the kind of album that doesn’t just tell us what it feels like to have your heart cut out, it practically puts us on the operating table during the surgery – which, of course, happens before the anesthesia kicks in. And he does it so well, we willingly bleed right along with him.