Everything is wrapped up in a breathless half hour and except for titles that aren’t quite as controversial as the immortal “I’m Not a Sicko, There’s a Plate in My Head,” this makes similar groups such as the veteran Fleshtones sound like Taylor Swift.

Credit goes to multi-instrumentalist/producer James Elkington who balances a near perfect blend of acoustic and subtle electric instrumentation, ghostly supporting vocals and strings along with Gunn’s own singing and exquisite guitar. He molds this hypnotic mélange that finds its footing early and tugs you deeper into the vortex of sound through the next 45 minutes, crafting a swirling, effortlessly artsy album with an almost surreal atmosphere you won’t soon forget.

The beauty of Vile and Barnett being on such similar wavelengths is that each song would work just fine for either artist individually, but combined, their talents--particularly their vocal harmonies--often amount to a whole greater than the sum of its parts.

With their extended songs, complex– some might say obtuse– lyrics and Geddy Lee's piercing vocals, Rush largely plays to a cult audience.

Improved songwriting and assured ambition have turned them into formidable recording artists as well.

Like most of Doe’s solo work, this one grows on you.

While the sisters have never made a bad album, as soon as you push play and the title track comes roaring out with its classic Led Zeppelin-styled riff, sung and played simultaneously by Rebecca, it’s clear that the sisters have found their footing.

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.

An album with a self-deprecating title that belies the ambitions and talent displayed within it by this band on the verge of bigger things.

Regardless of its compiler’s obvious intent to generate more cash from Jones’ name, this is a consistently enjoyable listen. It’s a lot of fun and a reminder of the enormous talent taken from us as she was hitting her artistic peak.

An album that’s not just an impressive follow-up to a career that fans thought was long over, but a splendid entry into the contemporary Americana field, one that The Long Ryders had an underappreciated hand in crafting.

A River Running to Your Heart qualifies as a complete triumph and one that serves Fruit Bats’ legacy well. To describe it as simply exceptional doesn’t say it all.

Crowell mostly uses the theme in a light-hearted manner, recounting both the charms and foibles of the state’s citizens. ... Even when the connection to the location seems tangential at best, there is a sense of ease and fun that makes Texas pretty irresistible.

In other words, it’s McClinton as we’ve come to know and love him, cranking out another solid disc of Americana, Delbert-style. It sounds inspired and freewheeling, like he’s just getting started. And considering his age and extensive resume, that’s quite a compliment.

Reportedly recorded in three days, and obviously without many overdubs in such a short span, What Makes Bob Holler is an excellent recording by three skilled musicians who can seemingly just tune up and play, something that's becoming increasingly rare these days

Love Letter for Fire shows what can happen when two near-strangers explore each other’s deepest emotions and private pains in song: They may still ultimately remain strangers, but they’ve created something profound in the process.

An intimate, multifaceted reflection of her always complex, frequently indistinct character. These often inscrutable songs offer kaleidoscopic glimpses into what seems like a complicated persona

Songs to Play may not be as incandescent and life affirming as the best of the wonderful Go-Betweens but at times it gets close, which is high praise indeed.

These stories resonate with strength and an irrepressible spirit few other artists can summon. Williams’ ability to persevere over issues that would sideline lesser talents and create music this impressive is a testament to the vitality of her rock ’n’ roll heart.

Blessed ultimately remains an optimistic record that juxtaposes her typically heartrending croon.

The problem with Psychedelic Pill, and it's a substantial one, is that, besides that inspired ending, the instrumental passages don't distinguish themselves as being all that memorable.

Even if this generally melancholy collection takes a few spins to sink in, Watkins has delivered a deeply personal and moving album infused with maturity and unflinching truth in both its lyrics and overall approach.

Silver Tears is an achievement that would make any singer-songwriter proud.

This is a unique and poignant album that was clearly a labor of love for all involved.

These performances could have come from an old Folkways album. Colter Wall captures a long-forgotten time and place, keeping the cowboy folklore alive by reminding us that poignant songs sung by a superb singer will never sound outdated.

It remains an electric, inspired show thanks to an exceedingly talented band led by guitarist Rick Holmstrom, and of course Staples’ larger than life voice, vitality and sheer personality. Pushing 80, she seems unstoppable.

For anyone expecting a stark left-turn from the songwriter, What It Is will be a let-down. But the record’s greatest strength is also what makes it predictable: as Carll settles into the warm consistency and careful craft of middle-career, he’s less interested in proving who he is than in refining what he does best.

Some songs suffer from being underwritten and overplayed. Still, there are enough impressive moments to ensure that, at least on stage, they will detonate with the passion and soul the Tedeschi Trucks band generates at every show.