he talk-sings his way through the material, getting by on gusto more than singing talent. ... All that said, it’s an awful lot of fun. Wood and band are clearly enjoying themselves, pianist Waters — featured in two large photos in the booklet — shines throughout and the party vibe is contagious enough to make this a success not just as a tribute to Berry, but as a showcase for Wood, one of his most celebrated fans.

Her 11th studio set, Blood (produced by Kenny Greenberg) is as inescapably devastating as it is cathartic, liberating and beautiful. ... Blood is an irrefutable masterpiece.

This is a fun listen but also feels like a way for Hatfield to amuse herself, romping through a dozen interesting, far from essential interpretations of the Police’s music in 45 minutes as she works on new material.

It is tough to immediately decide where this record fits into Oldham’s dense, diverse and frankly daunting discography, but it’s reaffirming to see him still swinging for the fences.

There is certainly craftsmanship behind the songwriting here, but it lacks the sweep that the strings would bring to the classic hits.

Not all of it is easy listening, but all of it is worth hearing.

His unique pop prosody and production skills, more sophisticated than ever in Pony, foretell that his sound will continue progressing to new creative heights, with the heft of catchy pop music and the inventiveness of its growing indie subgenre.

The live 25-song audio concert is a solid performance, but the just above bootleg sound is compressed and tinny. The band plays only a few songs from their IRS days while reprising all but three Monster tunes. The hours worth of mostly instrumental demos, where a Stipe-less trio tests riffs and grooves without actual songs behind them, are pleasant but forgettable. ... Fans will be intrigued by the crisper sound of the [remix] where Stipe’s vocals and Peter Buck’s guitar – cranked up for the majority of the disc – are better defined.

With the balance of upbeat rockers, twangy Americana, sassy humor and even some delicate moments, this is everything longtime Lambert fans would want, all wrapped up in a 51 minute gift to her fervent, largely female audience.

With Beneath The Eyrie, Pixies have finally found a new stride, releasing a solid effort that can breathe easily on its own.

Like his recently unpredictable behavior, it departs from what we’ve come to expect of him: gut-born artistry which connects on a human level. With this LP, he comes off concerned with fitting into an ideological mold, leaving no room for honest feelings and guided prose.

Some of the slick production, that drowned the last album for many, remains. Yet Daylight goes a long way to reassuring the roots/jam based audience Potter initially cultivated, that her time trying to be the next Taylor Swift is over.

There are at least a handful of tracks that should be included in the next Morrison greatest hits package. ... Based on the vibrant, often vivacious Three Chords and the Truth, he still has plenty of artistic gas left in his tank.

This isn’t as immediately powerful or riveting as Love & Hate. But the multifaceted material, along with the pioneering, organic and often offbeat production, grows on you. Listening closely with headphones heightens and intensifies the experience.

Together, the 12 songs reveal the distinct sound of The Magpie Salute, which successfully blends various genres without necessarily committing to any of them. Sonically, it sets a high water mark for a Part Three, should one be downriver.

Hopefully the Prine connection will provide the necessary visibility to move Waldon to the next level. With the impressive White Noise/White Lines, she proves her talent is worthy of his, and our, admiration.

It’s an album that both looks backward and forward, reprising the dusky feel of the music that first inspired the Dickinson brothers to start their band while pushing it into electric boogie and even psychedelic directions its founders might not have imagined.

Where Del Rey’s music feels icier to the touch and more pop-oriented, Olsen sings from the heart, reflected in the melancholic, often soaring, even experimental backing that hits home more than it misses. It may take some time and uninterrupted concentration, but the expansive All Mirrors grows on you with repeated plays.

She still knocks it out live, but Kill or Be Kind finds Fish wrapping her talents around quality, well-crafted material that should help attract elusive radio play and more importantly a crossover audience outside of her established blues base.

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.

Like the music of Nick Drake, these subtle songs creep up on you after repeated listenings. Their supple strains, low key choruses and overall atmospheric vibe gradually become intriguing and often hypnotic. Still, a few upbeat selections would have helped make this medicine go down much easier.

It’s an understatement to say the album’s audacious tone and approach will take some getting used to for Americana fans. But those with open minds and an affinity for ’80s sounds should warm up to this unanticipated, intense but generally enticing music.

The band’s best, worst and WTF moments are on display — along with a lot in the middle — but there is little doubt that The Replacements deserve their place in American rock music history.

Why Me? Why Not. is indeed comparable to one of Macca’s recent solo albums, a little modern, a little throwback, a lot of good stuff. Don’t miss out on the resurgence of Liam Gallagher while you’re hoping against hope for the return of his former band.

A little sincerity goes a long way, and the lack of a lighter conceptual touch doesn’t do this set any favors. But the exquisite Okie is nonetheless filled with emotions he evidently needed to express, which makes it an important entry in his bulging catalog and arguably his most intimate, deeply felt release.

Headphones enhance the experience as they help immerse the listener in Robertson’s edgy, creative and literate world.

Jamie is nothing if not daring, filled with fascinating, sometimes jarring musical complexities which the most skeptical listener will appreciate. Despite its relatively brief 36 minute playing time, the disc’s concepts and sheer obliqueness makes it linger far longer as a bold declaration from a restlessly creative artist with plenty on her mind.

Del Rey has certainly carved out her own niche in the world of singer-songwriters, much as the quasi-namesake of Norman Fucking Rockwell! did in the art world. This shows her refining that approach, adding a few new brush strokes here and there, but still providing a unique and fascinating tableau as a whole.