As its title suggests, Use Me offers a lesson in how to stay true to one's muse.

Whatever the fuel, the songsmith has created sterling and a wonderfully adventurous record that is quite possibly his best since 1995's 100% Fun.

The heart- wrenching emotion is credible and convincing, even though the uneasy undercurrents find Green's brand of the blues seem somewhat tenuous at times. Nevertheless, at this point in the trajectory, City & Colour manages to provide a pleasing musical melange.

Ultimately, Old Mad Joy may not signal the breakthrough that this outfit deserves, but by rekindling the savvy sound techniques that have taken them this far, hopefully the rest of the world will catch up soon enough.

As Yes is now in its sixth decade, the prog rock band shows on Fly From Here that it can still make music that is fresh and lively.

Marr has become a more assured singer, which is one of several ways this album improves on Boomslang.

Any adventurous soul with both Drake and Sun Ra back to back on his or her iPod will most certainly be able to get down with this truly unique hip-hop experience.

Shimmering and ethereal, A Church That Fits Our Needs finds the band as ambitious as ever.

Sweet Heart's melancholy tunes are still grand, their orchestras soaring and their choruses rousing, even Phil Spector-orian in the epic kink, but they're more tightly wound than on previous efforts.

It may seem a somewhat unassuming entry, but regardless, We Love Our Country creates a favorable first impression.

Fortunately, the band that helped establish the early indie ethos remains as odd and unrepentant as ever.

If you dig big choruses, the sound of a heart breaking and just the right amount of sweat on your brow, then Like a Fire That Consumes All Before It is for you.

John Hiatt has now released over one third of his career recordings since the year 2000, and seems likely to continue to make good music for some time to come.

You're Nothing is an album full of power--power which makes you think and react viscerally.

The entire affair is more open, relaxed and loose than he's ever been on record, qualities that appear easily and readily during his live shows.

The pair keeps the door unlocked for the curious, but doesn’t put out tea and cakes in welcome, either.

Form & Control exhibits a duality that splits the difference in the disparity of the Clap's soulful psych-pop/dance club fusion.

"Old Ash" and "Silver Self" bring to mind Paul Simon's Graceland, each song incorporating that same infectious shuffle and giddy exuberance that made Simon's world rhythms so compelling. And yet, that makes Beware and Be Grateful all the more confounding, given that some of their melodies seem on the verge of a disconnect.

Though the songs can come off as occasionally sterile (“On A Day” quickly comes to mind), it’s still a pretty impressive collection of songs from a band that’s only been around for a few years.

Fossils remains uniformly subdued throughout. Yet, it’s hardly as dry as the album title might imply.

The band’s latest evolution is bound to shed some fans of the old lineup, but the music here is interesting enough to attract some new listeners as well.

It takes a certain like-minded political sensibility to wholly appreciate both the music and the mantra, but rebels in search of a cause will likely share sympathy for Morello's fervent muse.

The mix of blues, with their standard, folk and country is a nice addition, but may not be enough to win over folks who aren’t already Son Volt devotees.

With a reflective outlook worthy of Bragg’s now venerable stature, this weathered perspective serves him well.

While some songs are utterly slow paced, they are obscured by the strength of the aforementioned tracks as well as “The Fall” and “Last Dance.”

Among the Grey is still mired in... well... several shades of gray, so that when certain songs dissipate as a casual drift, it becomes all the more difficult to glean a more emphatic impression.

Though the sound is stripped down--limited mainly to voice, guitar and unusual atmospherics--the effect is also fairly frenzied and typically creepy as well.

Since only 42 seconds of the album is new material (the opening self titled track), it can, at times, feel redundant, almost unnecessary, but, with a musician of Claypool’s caliber, to see boundaries being pushed--and classics revisited--there is obvious value here. And, at the very least, it’s a hell of a lot of fun.