Shaver’s deep, dusky, rugged voice is perfectly suited for this material.

New proves that inspiration is not a problem for Paul McCartney, who shows both his contemporaries and the youngsters alike how to make rich music while swinging for the cheap seats.

Beat Poetry Survivalists is a bold first step, and if some of the songs don’t quite hit the mark, it’s only because the two are intent on taking their partnership to certain extremes. And because risk sometimes leads to recklessness, a few missteps are not only inevitable but also forgivable.

Together, they make gorgeously sensual music, with essential contributions from Calexico trumpeter Jacob Valenzuela, pedal steel player Paul Niehaus, keyboardist Rob Burger and bassist Sebastian Steinberg.

All in all, this album works.

Ultimately, however, once you've gotten past the nagging feeling that you're not really listening to the Iron And Wine you thought you knew, you realize that you are, and that many of the songs are wonderful.

Existing fans will find enough to satisfy them, but newbies should choose from earlier Los Lobos works for a better understanding of what makes these guys so special.

Stitch Of The World contains a few songs that detail how those cracks were made and a few more that show them in the process of healing. The unifying factor is Tift Merritt, and that’s enough to make this one a keeper.

As bright and warm a guitar-based indie pop album as that [debut album, Gorilla Manor] was, it left a fair amount of room for expansion and maturity. On second album Hummingbird, that growth is readily apparent from the first track.

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.

Because of the buzz behind it, Speak Now was destined to be a commercial success no matter what. Thankfully, the album succeeds on an artistic level as well.

Hypnotic Eye is a bastion of consistent excellence.

If you're at a different stage of life than she is, it can be exhausting trying to keep up with the succession of emotions to which she deftly gives voice, but also downright exhilarating.

All of this makes for a satisfying comeback for a cult artist who has several cults anxiously waiting his return. Those fans will no doubt love Dear Mark J Mulcahy, I Love You. Newcomers used to straight-line songs might want to try it out as well, because they might be surprised at how refreshing it is when a songwriter reaches his destination zig-zagging all the way.

The Nashville by way of Texas singer-songwriter ups his game for this self-assured sweetly melodic sophomore release.

There’s still so much going on that Little Dark Age is a lot to take in, but it’s worth going back for seconds.

A handful of rocked-up covers such as “Auld Lang Syne” and “Angels We Have Heard on High” corral these standards into the Old 97s’ careening, energized mindset, and even the cloying “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” gets a cool surfy makeover thanks to Bethea’s spaghetti western guitar solo.

While The Lemonade Stand offers mostly familiar fare, it also makes for a genuinely tasty treat as well.

Travis is to be commended for keeping the faith and coming up with another batch of quality songs that, if not their best stuff, isn’t far from it. But like the album’s unimaginative title, there’s little that pushes any of the band’s established boundaries into new and fresh sonic areas.

At their best, live albums serve to encapsulate a career. In this case however, What To Look For In Summer offers something more, an actual elevation to the accomplishment. Look… and listen. Summer is an album for all seasons.

Perhaps a few upbeat performances would have better balanced the all-ballad program, something Hynde could surely have pulled off without breaking a sweat. Regardless, what’s here displays her ability to inject a fresh approach to Dylan’s timeless work, revealing nuances of his writing that often get overlooked in his or others’ hands.

Often moody, intermittently lovely, if cautionary, set.

The musical leaps Punch Brothers takes are invigorating, sometimes breathtaking.

Bauer has been sitting on these feelings for over a decade, but he chose a great way to share them.

This is clearly for existing fans; those new to Oldham’s expansive, often confusing catalog are advised to start elsewhere. But if you are already converted to his stridently uncommercial musings, these once difficult to find performances make a wonderful addition to what is likely your already extensive Oldham collection.

In the end, Unrepentant Geraldines goes far to re-establish the sense of intimacy that won Amos her audience’s unwavering devotion; there’s a level of honesty characterizing the project that should jibe well with them, and she’s in confident voice throughout without ever sounding canned or over-calculated.

When Feels Like is at its best, it’s a reminder of how exciting it can be to plug into a distortion pedal and let it rip. In its lesser moments, that’s still more or less what it is.

Wise Up Ghost is a fearless, invigorating gut-punch of a record, one that never settles and surprises from start to finish.

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.

Fallon speaks humbly of his work, but Local Honey, containing various other themes of home and love, is his highest achievement to-date.

Why it took ten years to craft is unclear, but if this qualifies as a comeback, The Hives have returned with a thunderous buzz.

As much as Broken Social Scene's identity is wrapped up in it's concept as a collective, their most transcendent moments are not their speedy grandiose party anthems but are instead the small soft details like the band setting into a slow almost improvisational groove in "Sweetest Kill" or the hushed vocals of Emily Haines, Leslie Feist and Amy Millan singing in poignant unison on "Sentimental X's."

Headphones make the experience even more visceral since listeners can concentrate on the intricacy of the tracks. But in any environment, Flat White Moon is an inventive, original and impressive project from a band who hasn’t yet found a boundary they can’t expand.

Like Peggy Lee, Francoise Hardy, Jane Birkin and others, Molly Burch is a chanteuse, exploring the edges of noir songs with beauty, sadness, and an honest vulnerability that’s powerful yet strikingly understated.

Marcus King isn’t pushing any boundaries on the leathery Young Blood, he doesn’t need to. His talents as songwriter, singer, and guitarist are skillfully displayed in these dozen roots rockers that any musician in this genre would be proud to have crafted with the energy, enthusiasm, and sheer professionalism he displays.

His latest, Songs and Stories, is simply Clark doing what he does best: relating life's joys and sorrows, from "Homegrown Tomatoes" to "The Randall Knife," in song.

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.

The album, sees the pop maven realize her own strength and let it take her somewhere new while keeping with her characteristic candor and energy.

Son Volt doesn’t try anything fancy on Notes In Blue, nor does it need to. It simply puts the spotlight on the frontman and lets him knock every one of these songs high into the stormy skies and right out of the park.

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.

[Producer Ryan Adams] allows Johns’ emotionally driven music to simply and effectively do its job, capturing a two day moment in time that will continue to resonate for years.

Those who believe the singer’s best work is behind him will rethink that after one spin of the impressive Apache, an album--significantly the first on his own label--that ranks with the finest in Neville’s storied career.

With a two-pack-a-day voice that combines the hard boiled/craggy rectitude of Tony Joe White, Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson and especially Waylon Jennings, anything Walls touches feels authentic and lived-in.

On Blue Mesa, Luke Winslow-King reflects on his strengths, weaknesses and need to keep moving with the lyrical and musical integrity of a heartbroken journeyman who understands, believes in and respects the road ahead and behind.

Over the course of 23 tracks—a mix of archival classics, recent entries, and a couple of covers—the band struts their stuff with the usual flair and panache.

The sound is quintessentially opiate--almost sleep-inducing--and upon writing that, it should be clarified as a compliment, kind of like falling asleep to NPR: It gives good information, but the undertones and lush notes can lull you to dreams.

If Berninger intended to establish an imprint beyond his day job, he certainly succeeded here. Once Serpentine Prison opens its doors, visitors will likely find it hard to leave.

It could be all tongue in cheek--and some of it probably is--but in the end, this isn’t an Occupy rally, it’s a rock album. And it’s not a shabby one at that.

It's a solid, not spectacular album with a few very fine songs.

The album in a nutshell: a broken heart carried with poise, good humor and endless charm.

Clark has an outstanding cast of supporting players helping to underscore her intents, among them, Derek Trucks, Lucius, guitarist Judd Hughes, drummer Matt Chamberlain, bassist Sebastian Steinberg, and of course Carlile herself. Nevertheless, Clark can claim credit for this remarkably revealing record and for having the courage to convey these tattered truths so well.

First Aid Kit’s latest may be a slightly more conservative gesture than their last record, but it synthesizes their many musical strains more fully than ever before.

Krall never seems out of place even as she takes chances in a space that could have left her sounding overwhelmed.

It’s unfortunate that a platter which runs less than 25 minutes includes filler, but there is little else to call the closing 1:40 studio instrumental jam “How ‘Bout a Hand for the Band.” It’s clearly fun for the musicians involved but not interesting enough to pad an already too-brief release.

It’s overwhelming proof, if anyone needed it, that Noel Gallagher’s best days aren’t behind him. If Who Built the Moon is any indication, the high flying British icon may just be getting started.

It shows that a talented, visionary singer-songwriter can comfortably do what she does so well, yet not be trapped by conventionality.

Rouse uses his recent psychoanalysis sessions to question universal questions of our place in life as we age. That he does so with such beautifully crafted, hummable pop songs is a testament to his long established talents as one of America’s more overlooked singer/songwriters.

Scott McCaughey, in his Minus 5 guise, funnels his eclecticism into a somewhat cohesive whole that marries folk, country and rock with disarming ease. He uses his veteran musical instincts to craft tuneful yet genre pushing material that thankfully is now widely available for all to appreciate.

It’s a wildly eclectic yet entirely natural career progression for the unpredictable Wilkes, whose vocals and overall approach is slightly less frenzied than we have come to expect.

This remains yet another diverse, refined and intermittently provocative release from an experienced singer-songwriter who consistently provides the Americana goods with cleverness, class and style.

In the end there are no real surprises here; this is just another solid recording from AKUS which the band's fans will no doubt enjoy.

Bergquist is in wonderfully relaxed voice and the open production by Joe Henry allows her vocals--a mix of Sheryl Crow, Rickie Lee Jones and even Billie Holiday at times--plenty of room to explore the bucolic shadows and light of the material.

[A] stirring, often spellbinding mix of gospel, R&B, folk and rock.

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]

Like its simple, evocative cover painting of puffy white clouds drifting by a window, Khruangbin’s music hangs and hovers, creating an ethereal ambiance beckoning the listener to explore more of their addictive, atmospheric sound.

Robert Ellis’ self-titled album is the sound of a young songwriter solidifying his blend of East Nashville country with whatever sounds, styles, and sentiments that suit his interests.

Gilkyson uses her nocturnal musings to create a shimmering album that sounds just as impressive in the daylight as in the darkness that inspired it.

These diverse songs find their balance not just with a subtle mix of rootsy country, folk, pop, soul and Americana, but in Nelson’s homespun vocals inviting you to unplug and, well, do what the disc’s title suggests.

The tracks, credited to the band collectively, are dense at times and often prove fairly impossible to untangle lyrically—exemplified by the opening “Ballerina Radio” (Radiator burns along your quilt / General admission of your guilt). It all begs the inevitable question: “Are they having fun yet?” Based on the evidence at hand, the answer appears to be a resounding “Hell yes.”

This tribute may do a better job of conveying Clark's power than his own recordings.

More than anything, it’s refreshing to hear an artist with Bird’s skill set bring to life a set of songs that deserve an audience far beyond the small cult that has already discovered them.

Even if little here sparkles as splendidly as House’s prime era, Dreamers Are Waiting is quality, thoughtful pop from the mind of a guy who knows his way around a terrific tune.

This is no Rod Stewart-styled mushy romp. It’s a serious, wildly and sometimes radically adventurous reimagining of often obscure entries from the great American songbook and like little you’ve heard or would expect.

Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit's Here We Rest is not what you'd call easy listening.

It’s those more daring musical elements, perhaps inspired by label boss/friend Jack White, that bring a fresh, vibrant approach to Mae’s sound. Arguably she didn’t go far enough chasing it, but this remains an impressive second effort that successfully expands her folksy pedigree into more creative, and interesting, territory.

Top notch session musicians including guitarist David Garza and Me'Shell N'Degeocello on bass along with a few namedropping guests such as Robert Plant and Patty Griffin help flesh out these eleven often moody, reflective tunes, making this her most accomplished album to date.

The Ballad of Dood & Juanita, is his most rugged and resilient yet. Simpson’s third release in just the past twelve months, it’s yet another example of his unfettered ambition.

These songs, masterfully written and delivered with obvious passion from one of America’s most veteran and idiosyncratic composers, show that Crosby is perhaps getting better with age and seems confident in his abilities as a singer and songwriter still willing to take chances.

He may be feeling wounded by love, but Escovedo's follow-up to 2008's career-defining Real Animals is an almost equally strong testament to his durability.

It may take a leap of faith, and it’s hard to imagine how convincingly Lake Street Dive can pull off this slick, immaculately produced studio album on stage, but once you let yourself go with the disc’s flow, it’s tough not be engaged by the sheer vivacity and likeability of a set that sounds like it was plucked out of a time capsule.

It all seems more diverse than it actually sounds, and true, the band borrows plenty, including some room to play around with the sound, but Thank You Happy Birthday transcends its genres, and would be better simply labeled as a solid second step.

The Low Anthem are desperately trying to say something, even if that message is not always crystal clear.

Although his sound is more varied than ever, the collection of songs feels cohesive. He’s never been an artist too confined by genre lines, but Higher lets Stapleton roam free creatively.

Like the band’s 2008 album Devotion, Depression Cherry is an impressive showcase of the kind of beauty that two musicians are capable of when stripped down to a bare-bones approach. It’s worked before, and it works again here.

Producer Steve Jordan captures the thumping drums, horns and string arrangements always so essential to this music, creating Scaggs’ finest album since Come on Home, 1997’s previous set of predominantly soul covers.

Richey’s doe-eyed, bittersweet approach perfectly captures the hurt and regret in her material, but you may wish there were more glimmers of light to offset her somewhat bleak outlook.

This is an impressive first effort for the multi-talented Johns who is clearly determined to avoid spending his life in the shadows of others.

Stripped of the beefy, full-band arrangements of The Constantines, Webb loses none of his potency. He’s just found a way to channel it without cranking up the volume.

The end product feels natural, unforced and even at times humble, making this appropriately titled sixth Stringdusters album yet another successful effort that moves the act beyond its string roots while keeping their collective feet planted in them.

There’s a maturity and self-assurance on the appropriately titled Expectations that’s remarkable, especially for an artist’s initial release.

Perhaps the input of a full band or an outside producer would have curtailed some of Scott’s more impulsive, if well-meaning, tendencies and made this a more cohesive experience. They may not work, but give him credit for trying.

Not everything clicks—the lazy Latin shuffle “Del Rio You’re Making Me Cry” edges too close to Jimmy Buffett territory—but there’s enough that works to make this an effective posthumous effort that even perfectionist White would have been proud of.

Ultimately, A Colossal Waste of Light takes Eyelids several steps further in terms of heft and gravitas, sharing the sense that they need not rely on hype or headlines to garner the attention they so decidedly deserve at this juncture.

He continues his streak as one of this country’s most prolific and talented players, singers, and songwriters in an inimitable “electric swamp funkin’ blues” genre he pretty much owns.

Before Arrow, I thought I liked this band; I thought I liked them a lot, even. Having seen this new side, though, a better word would be "love."

Even if there isn’t much meat here and the concepts are obtuse at best, the oddly titled Enderness (the beginning “T” is conspicuously, and intentionally, missing), taps into an enticing, low-key vibe that’s just as satisfying and far more personal.

Despite the ominous lyrical content, Nadler creates music with warmth, grace and genuine humility.

Archive Series, Vol. 1 is a collection of 16 pop prayers and private whispers that offer a striking alternate version of Iron & Wine’s mythic inaugural release.