In the end, Alive As You Are is a polished and impressive effort that heralds DML's chameleon like musical ability by exemplifying you can in fact teach an old dog new tricks.

What’s so profoundly American about these songs are the way they often deploy humorous metaphor and simple, child-like storytelling devices to convey deeper, darker truths. Other times, the songs are simply funny stories without a larger lesson.

Live From Atlanta is a more effective career retrospective for the alt-country stalwarts than any formal greatest hits compilation could ever be.

The unexpected is to be expected, and in that regard, Wagner and company don’t disappoint. The Bible may not be the last word as far as this band’s creativity is concerned, but as always, Lambchop’s music is worth heeding.

In the end there are no real surprises here; this is just another solid recording from AKUS which the band's fans will no doubt enjoy.

Since their music so effortlessly recalls the best of Jackson Browne, consider We’re All Gonna Die to be Dawes’ version of Browne’s 80’s curve ball Lawyers In Love, a stylistic detour with high points that outweigh the misfires.

The production, arrangements and overall audio are beautifully crafted, McCombs’ askew concepts are, well... intriguing, and this hour long album is another impressive notch in the belt of a talented artist whose unusual, often offbeat approach is what makes him so distinctive, entrancing and appealing.

As with most feature-heavy albums, some of the duets fall flat....Still, there is some real magic to be had on Mean Old Man.

Despite the ominous lyrical content, Nadler creates music with warmth, grace and genuine humility.

On Life In The Dark, the Felice Brothers continue their decade-plus quest of chronicling our crooked national pathologies with quirky humor, slacker indifference and guarded folkie optimism. Never before has the Felice Brothers taken in their country with so much wide-eyed wonder.

Ultimately, the album's roomy sound and well-observed sentiments come across as byproducts of lived experience rather than of an extensive vinyl collection.

Turn Blue is the most masterful representation to date of the duo’s successful transformation from lost-in-the-milieu garage rockers to game-changing, widely appealing songwriters.

The original songs here are, perhaps surprisingly, stronger than the parodies, and Yankovich shines brightest when he is just being funny without a direct target.

It’s not for the squeamish or those looking for concise, structured songs. But established followers will likely get on board and stay there. Others may want to dip their toes to test the temperature before they jump into Lanegan’s choppy, occasionally dissonant but revelatory waters.

A few highlights such as the soaring, dramatic title track are spread over an expansive 70 minute playing time. But there isn’t much you’ll revel in as timeless art criminally neglected to the dustbins of R&B obscurity.

It may not be her finest set, but it captures the light/dark spirit that informed Crow’s best music and is a worthy addition to an already impressive catalog.

This is soul music of the most raw and affecting type; naked but brimming with more feeling than the majority of today’s stars in the genre whose elaborate productions can’t touch Son Little’s cottage project for purity and emotional clarity.

With the orchestra, Vanderslice is able to maintain the best-friend-telling-secrets feel of his previous work, while expanding the sound to make it feel more like an orchestral soundscape of all your best friends telling you the same secret. Or maybe the secret is just much, much grander.

On Blue Mesa, Luke Winslow-King reflects on his strengths, weaknesses and need to keep moving with the lyrical and musical integrity of a heartbroken journeyman who understands, believes in and respects the road ahead and behind.

Even if they may sound dated, there’s a reason these tunes are collectively considered as additions to The Great American Songbook.

The stories are typically droll, but the accompaniment is solid, sturdy, old school country played by veterans who know how to keep things tight yet loose.

Happily, even a cursory listen affirms the fact that his snarl and swagger are still intact.

The album exudes the salty air of the conditions it was recorded in, which makes it a success on that level. How much your tastes lean towards undiluted, traditional Brit folk will gauge your enjoyment for this batch of unadulterated music in that genre, played and conceived with the purest of intentions.

Everything here captures the classy, sometimes sassy and always heartfelt essence that makes Shelby Lynne one of her generation’s most passionate and determined voices.

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.

The music returns to the melodic strains of Hornsby’s more elegiac work, offering a frame of reference that longtime listeners will likely relate to best — from the sweeping piano undertow that characterizes “Days Ahead”—which sounds remarkably at times like Brian Wilson in symphonic mode—to the melodic strains of Lidar,” the “Way It Is”-like narrative that characterizes “Is This It,” the sparkle and sheen of “Had Enough,” the stately feel of “Simple Prayer II,” featuring the tender shared vocals of Z Berg, and ultimately, the dramatic delivery of “Point Omega.”

Granted, they haven’t hit the heights they climbed courtesy of such early mega milestones as Don’t You (Forget About Me),” “Glittering Prize,” “Somewhere in Summertime,” “Waterfront,” and “Alive and Kicking.” No matter, Kerr, Burchill and their newer recruits still manage to stay true to the band’s overarched intents, but do so based on premise rather than pretense.

Jude is Lennon’s singular statement, his purposeful pronouncement, his pivotal turn as far as coming into his own with music that bears a grander scope.