What’s so profoundly American about these songs are the way they often deploy humorous metaphor and simple, child-like storytelling devices to convey deeper, darker truths. Other times, the songs are simply funny stories without a larger lesson.

There’s soothing, but never clichéd warmth in this retro-style. Both LaMontagne’s craftsmanship in the composition of these songs and his easygoing, unaccompanied playing will come as comfort food to established followers who should welcome this most organic return to his roots.

Ultimately, Heavy Nights isn’t the sort of album designed to create an immediate impression. It demands repeated listens and an opportunity to dig deep well below the surface.

Some selections could have been edited to make this a shorter, stronger collection, especially since the smooth, unruffled mid-tempo groove gets a little stale by the album’s final third. But it’s a pleasure to have Penn back on the music scene he is so inextricably tied to, writing and cutting fresh tracks with the same attention to detail and overall mojo he applied to the timeless gems that made him such an iconic name in American soul music.

Still Corners stitches a seamless amalgamation of lyrics, vocals, production and song composition, all of which makes The Last Exit an early contender for one of 2021’s finest, and most enduring releases—one to listen to, absorb and bask in.

Any of these gems would sound natural emerging out of a tinny ‘60s transistor radio. That’s clearly what Waterhouse and Butler were aiming for on an organic album that feels fresh and alive while respecting and recalling the past.

There are no musical revelations but recreating the groove of the terrific In Yo’ Face! The History of Funk series of sadly out of print compilations from Rhino is harder than it sounds.

Combs describes the disc’s overall tone as that of a black and white film. Add foreign to that description (one song was inspired by an Ingmar Bergman flick) and you’re a few steps closer to this stirring, decidedly non-commercial music that sounds like little else.

The performances smartly stick to rockers since the few ballads (“Guernica” and “No Hard Feelings”), while darkly tuneful, expose the limitations of Hunter’s voice, now a shadow of his “All the Young Dudes” heyday. But give him credit for refusing to tweak it with electronic enhancers and writing some terrific tunes, which he attacks with more vigor than many a quarter of his age.

Given that these performances take on a sparse demo-like approach, the intimacy is obvious and revealing, as if the listener is eavesdropping on the artist at a particularly vulnerable moment, or even more likely, while he’s simply opting to run through some songs for his own pleasure and satisfaction.

Adorable, confident, and self-assured define beabadoobee on her most mature album yet.

While a number of other covers grace the set like Merle Haggard’s “Working Man Blues” and Johnny Cash and June Carter’s “Jackson,” the group also penned some fantastic originals.

This is clearly an album to be absorbed, perhaps alone, as you read the words and let the music wash over you, taking you places few singer-songwriters dare to explore, let alone those on their first albums. Similar to the early work of the equally unconventional PJ Harvey.

It’s a set of songs somehow manages to come across as both subtle and assertive in equal measure. That’s not an easy task of course, but it’s a credit to the band’s particular prowess that they not only tow that tricky divide, but do it so efficiently.

Fleet Foxes producer/engineer/mixer Phil Ek warms up the band's previously chilly sound to yield arguably their best, and certainly most accomplished album yet.

The King of Limbs is Radiohead's Sky Blue Sky–a reliably enjoyable record that follows a heightened run of musical genius.

Generally more subdued than the Lambert-led Pistol Annies and less groundbreaking than Trio (the iconic Emmylou, Dolly, Linda Ronstadt project that was a clear influence here), some of this doesn’t qualify as country. It would have helped if all four women participated in every performance since at least one is MIA on the majority of tunes. And while Dave Cobb’s production is typically professional, it’s also a little dry. Regardless, this is a much needed shot in the arm from talented female singer-songwriters.

For all of his disparity, he still holds to some basic pop precepts and a style and stance that find him staying within the realms of a giddy musical motif. There’s little not to like, and those that appreciate abject originality plied from a generally left-of-center persona ought to find K Bay a mostly pleasing proposition.

The record's songs maintain Oldham's characteristic simplicity and sparseness that hearken back to the now ancient songs of American music's past. All the while, this familiarly fresh set of arrangements gives Oldham's restless phrasings the virgin textures upon which to project cryptic and fearless lyrics.

Like R.E.M., this package is classy and creatively designed. It illuminates a challenging yet fulfilling turning point in the group’s impressive and influential legacy.

Once you hear any of them, you’ll want more, especially since this compact 32 minute disc ends way too soon.

Existing fans will rightfully be thrilled that Hitchcock not only hasn’t lost his edge, but has sharpened his knives on this superb set.

New liner notes from Barry Hansen provide essential background. But all you need is the music to understand that Arthur Alexander is one of the greatest “unknown” artists of the soul era, and one whose legacy is enhanced by this classy re-issue of one of his finest works.

Those less focused might find their attention taxed, but this is a meticulously crafted and uncompromising work that shows Henry to be at the top of his game releasing challenging music not made for prime time.

Ultimately, without the abundance of the fitful, electrified abandon that permeated White’s past records--plus the fact that this album is clearly just another tiny sliver of the lexicon that may someday reveal his true scheme--some fans may feel moored on a lazaretto of dissatisfaction. Yet in the meantime, at the very least, Lazaretto is a damn catchy segue spot to await the arrival of the next intricate puzzle piece.

Amidon’s plaintive, boyish vocals make up in character what they lack in uniqueness.

While City Music certainly doesn’t surpass Singing Saw, it’s a hell of a lot of fun to hear Morby take a walk on the wild side.

An impressive collection that’s innovative and inventive if not collaborative.