Wilco (the album), the band's seventh studio effort, treats verse-chorus-verse basics like holy truths. The result is the rare rock album about acceptance. And it's fantastic.
His lyrics remain as brashly entertaining as ever: A Poconos swami tells of a thief and his child bride in "Ancient Mysteries," a track that gives Men Without Hats' "Pop Goes the World" an appealingly pessimistic twist.
On Mariachi El Bronx, these West Coast bad boys retain their lyrical grit — one tune is called “Cell Mates” — but trade the bruisingly metallic Black Flag guitars for the kind of thrumming acoustic arrangements that have long been a part of Southern California’s sonic landscape.
More than anything, I and Love and You proves how miscast the Brothers were as folkies, because their ambitions are so much larger.
With coproducers Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois explicitly included in the songwriting, it’s an effort to tinker and rough up and refine anew their music’s essence — with nobly sketchy results.
The effect is more Tokyo neon than Lower East Side leather. Surprisingly, the sonic leap forward intensifies Casablancas' greatest gift -- melody.
Believe it or not ... this appealingly lightweight set of funky robo-rock jams actually makes good on Homme's promise.
Neither Cocker's chewy structures nor his voice's subtle shadings are particularly well suited to Albini's you-are-there engineering. Fortunately, this collection of surging and reeling tunes is the former Pulp frontman's strongest since Different Class.
The singer hunts slightly bigger game on Paramore’s follow-up, brand new eyes, which, at a moment of wet-and-wild Warped Tour cynicism (see Cobra Starship and 3OH!3), offers a principled reminder of a more earnest, honest age.
While there's nothing quite as hugely hooky as Alright singles "Smile" and "lDN," the album feels more confidently complete.
Middle Cyclone carries case's unique vision one step further: here, she truly embraces the beast within.
Watch Me Fall is even more melodic. Reatard classes up the joint a bit, smearing organ, hard-strummed acoustic guitar, and strings on the unrequited-love epic 'I’m Watching You.'
The Ecstatic is easily his finest full-length since Black on Both Sides, his 1999 solo debut.
Even as they feature orchestras, women’s choirs, and Beach House singer Victoria Legrand on Veckatimest, the album is still an intimate, ascetic affair.
These arch Frenchmen make precision-tooled pop that somehow retains a sense of urgency and playfulness — an impressive balancing act consistently slam-dunked by effortlessly ingratiating choruses.
The result is the alternative pop album of the decade-one that imbues the Killers’ Hot Fuss and MGMT’s Oracular Spectacular with a remarkable emotional depth and finesse.
Merriweather plays like the summation of a long, strange trip, combining the group’s career touchstones: harmonic Beach Boys pop, African tribal chants, minimalism, minimal techno, psychedelia, and dub.