While Davenport and his crew aren’t doing anything here completely out of the ordinary (for them, anyway) with a batch of songs this strong it might stand as his best.

Workbook 25 is his masterpiece.

Maybe they were trying to evoke Leonard Cohen’s Songs From a Room but they came up with something sweeter (albeit noir-ish) in the process.

Only 8 songs here so they don’t wear out their welcome and know how to keep the fans wanting more.

With Holly, Waterhouse really comes into his own, branding himself as a retro crossover crooner whose immediate intent appears intended to instigate a ‘60s soul revival.

Dawson’s agility is remarkable to say the least, and despite the lack of additional embellishment, the music comes across as rich and riveting.

Gallon Drunk’s whiskey goes down rough on The Soul of the Hour, but the lingering after-burn is the best part.

Abandoned Cities is gorgeous and disturbing and a bit chilling, like old photos hanging on walls about to be demolished, like memory, like loss, like loneliness experienced in the midst of family life.

Chills on Glass may be rock viewed sideways, through a cracked mirror, after 48 hours without sleep, but it is till the recognizable thing. As such, it fits uncomfortably into the places you’ve made for rock, jarring you even as it feeds you.

Buy It’s Her Fault, a 12-pack, then enjoy the ride.

Their return is certainly great news to the diehards out there. For everyone else, at least the bar hasn’t been set too high for the follow up.

Though his songwriting skills have rarely come to the fore, the quality of the material here--all of which he wrote, save a pair of covers--makes these tunes first rate.

Backed by his acoustic guitar, a fiddle player, a bass and little else, Millsap’s record has a timelessness that will preserve it well years from now.

Ledges may be a quiet album but it resonates with strong emotions in its own low-key way.

Temples aren’t reinventing anything here so much as adding a distinctly British twist to well-trodden ground.

For a moment or two here, Quilt sounds like a lost Pretty Things track, but as mentioned earlier, this is really their own unique creation. And it needs to be heard right now.

Essential Tremors hides some of the bands’ strongest songs in years. You just have to dig for them.

If you’re looking for that next hooky, guitar-pop record you could do a lot worse than this.

The raw, mellow, hip-hop, electronic, jazz infused solo return of Neneh Cherry is an enjoyable ride; some songs are immediately addictive while others slowly become more appealing after several listens and sonic osmosis.

If you’ve never experienced Lucinda Williams before, this is a discovery worth making and music that will live in your heart and mind long after the disk stops spinning.

If energy and enthusiasm count for anything, then The Pack A.D. comes out a step ahead. The problem is, they don’t seem to know when to pull back.

Brousseau possesses a certain spirit and shine, but a bit more spark would give Grass Punks more of a means by which to elevate the intrigue.

They’ve created a complex and detailed world, and English Oceans adds more memorable characters to it.

Calling to mind everyone from Dinosaur Jr. to The Pixies, Boston indie noise rockers follow up last year’s great full length, Major Arcana, with the solid, but frustratingly short vinyl 12” EP Real Hair.

The band manages to sound half-inebriated and unbelievably tight at the same time, a loosely strung collaboration that is, nonetheless, completely in sync.

The album is not flawless; there are one or two songs that don’t quite hit the high bar Atkins set for herself with this outing. But songs like the drinks-in-the-air sing-along “It’s Only Chemistry” and the instant classic “Sin Song” more than make up for what you pay for this album.

It lacks consistency, but it works well often enough to make this a reasonably satisfying exercise in both 19th and 21st Century Americana.

These are lonely outposts in a landscape without distinction, where the most depressing aspect isn’t what happened to Landes and Ritter, but what happened to Landes’ songwriting.