Though he’s reportedly less than eager to release a ballad, some of the best moments of I’m a Fire are “Burnin’ Bed,” written by powerhouse Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally, that boasts a beautiful, progressive chorus and “The Secret,” that deals in death, infidelity and hidden love.

There is a one-take charm to the performances on A Letter Home, an album that’s more of a tribute to Neil Young’s ever-loving idiosyncrasy than to any of the artists covered.

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]

The album unravels its charms slowly and deliberately and after it’s over you’ll be beckoned back to soak in more of its sublime, beguiling mystique.

This rampant musical eclecticism is fun and keeps things from getting boring but it’s also occasionally too scattershot, even though most of the players remain the same throughout.

A rollicking set that nearly two decades in, stands as some of the Old 97’s finest and most exhilarating music.

This is unquestionably slow going and perhaps best taken in smaller doses, but it’s ultimately rewarding for those willing to take advice from a guy whose darkness and internal demons have remained key components to his emotionally naked creativity.

Like a lot of Frusciante’s solo output, Enclosure sometimes sounds more like him working through ideas than a presentation of conclusions.

It may be startling news to fans who expected something more raw, more twangy or more of the same, but in this case, the startling news is that the new Tristen is startling good.

Ledges may not match the intensity of his stage performances, but the album does portray Gundersen as an exacting songwriter who never lets self-reckoning curdle into self-regard and as an imaginative producer with a careful hand.

What she’s come up with isn’t always completely successful, but it keeps you wanting more.

While it remains to be seen if any of these eleven tracks yields another legendary moment on the order of the ones Crowell has already penned, the organic Tarpaper Sky is a welcome reminder that at 63 he remains capable of releasing beautifully crafted music that can stand toe to toe with his best.

Do To The Beast is nowhere near as tortured as the band’s masterpiece, 1993’s Gentlemen. But it’s still comfortable in the shadows, and for that matter, kicking up a good bit of noise.

A closing cover of Sam Phillips’ plaintive and rarely heard ballad “Where is Love Now” shows the group knows how to dig for a great song, even if the originals that dominate this disc aren’t immediately as accessible. This isn’t the band’s finest (half) hour, yet it’s great to have them back.

Eight tracks straight of gut-punching, emotive arena rock can be exhausting--especially when it leans so heavily on emo aesthetics.

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.

Those previously not exposed to Browne’s music, or fans of these performers he influenced, can start here for a terrific taste of one of America’s most stunning and keen lyricists.

The album has one major issue--it’s got too much going on in places.... But despite that flaw on this effort, it has a lot going for it.

Simone’s vocal, arranging and composing talents are so consistently strong that you’ll be swept away and lifted by the sheer quality of these lyrically dense yet musically fleet footed stories.

Somewhere in between the high times and the death throes lies Out Among The Stars. The songs contained are mostly simple pleasures, but they’re pleasures nonetheless.

Through much of Till Midnight, Ragan is still kicking up dust and throwing down, and pretty much doing everything except buying into the stereotype of the mature, mellow troubadour.

A beautifully fashioned, classy and meticulously crafted background music, perfect for Sunday brunch among the NPR crowd.

The Hold Steady need not ever deviate from such a potent product.

There are moments of levity on Riser, like the fratboy-ish “Pretty Girls” and “Drunk on a Plane,” but those songs betray what works so well everywhere else on the record.

The accompanying live DVD, recorded at Shoreline Amphitheatre in 1992, is a good-enough bonus, rather than a must-have live document. These are minor quibbles of course; a whole stack of tacky badges couldn’t stand in the way of Your Arsenal being absolutely essential.

Steve Dawson’s fleet fingers, dexterity and sheer musicality make this a must for acoustic guitar aficionados and a treat for everyone else.

Everything here is painted in varying shades of gloom and lit by flickering candle flame, but every now and then, illuminates something quite gorgeous.

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.