This album may not prove to be everyone’s cup of tea and may require a bit of hope and patience to listen to Samurai. Joakim has made an album that is simultaneously familiar yet unique and sets you on a creative sonic journey.

The lack of anything that’s decidedly uptempo may be a detriment to some, but the blend of strings and acoustic instrumentation more than compensates for the subdued stance.

The acapella gospel of “True Religion” aside, this is a gritty set of songs, performed by an obviously unhinged individual who takes pride in his warped weirdness.

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.

Wholly enjoyable, but nothing revelatory.

Future Standards feels a little too respectful, well-done but static and without much animating fire.

Musically, expressive and thematically sound, I’m Glad Trouble Don’t Last Always is as promising a pronouncement as its title suggests.

The songs vacillate between solid, classic McClinton and ho-hum and you can’t help but miss the more raucous, wilder Delbert.

Contrary to its title, Do Not Disturb might prove disturbing to those whose tastes don’t necessarily allow for introspection of intrigue, but for those that miss the adventure and ambition British prog rock once had to offer, it’s well worth the risk.

Whether the new album will get them anywhere close to the mainstream remains to be seen. Most likely it won’t, but that doesn’t mean we can’t root for them all the same.

It has, not surprisingly, an elegiac quality, a mournful, melancholy cast to its elliptical phrasing. Like the first iconic first lady, the music is polished and well reined in.

It’s an odd little record, a kind of confessional chronicle that gradually gets under your skin. In this era of fractured self-identification, Ten Hymns From My American Gothic nicely serves as a soundtrack for all the searchers and seekers out there.

There’s a feeling of triumph and celebration imbued in these tunes, although Joan’s voice remains cautious even in the midst of the revelry. Ranging from wistful to giddy, this is an uncommonly expressive effort that boasts clear allegiance to modern pop while still remaining a step or so out of reach.

Much of today’s music draws inspiration from more recent antecedents. Arguably Freedom Jazz Dance: The Bootleg Series, Vol. 5--even as a collection of material originally deemed unsuitable for release--is superior to much of what is new.

The same basic sound is here, but a bit dancier and more electronic groove. Not nearly as much of the straight pop or shoegazey stuff.

It’s always comforting to know that certain stylistic bents of rock never go out of style. That’s usually because someone puts a new spin on an old formula. That’s arguably the case with E.

The sonics, as you might imagine, vary from one track to the next, coming as they do from multiple sources. In general, though, they’re quite acceptable, so rating them squarely in the middle seems logical enough.

Away has some fine moments, but is an LP completists will get the most mileage out of, perhaps as that curio figure in an artist’s evolution to somewhere else.

The lack of a rhythmic anchor sometimes gives the songs more free form than they actually need--there’s a difference between playful interchange and self-indulgence. But most of the music simply translates deep musical respect and chemistry into moments of artistic fire and great beauty.

A little mellower and a little more introspective, but just as impactful as he was two decades ago when he first started showing up on the radio, Collingwood is proof that growing up and growing older isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Nothing may not be particularly imaginative, but it’s so competent at its craft it’s hard to imagine any fan of the style complaining.

It’s exactly the kind of album you’d expect to emerge from a deserted cave full of records--dark, solitary, a little mad but extremely well-versed in musical style.

The production values are practically negligible due to the archival effect. Still, Stoneking’s intents are obviously pure and prone to imperfection. A curious listen, Gon’ Booglaloo goes all out.

As incisive a crime story as ever committed to a groove, Juarez is striking and surreal, a torrid and twisted pastiche stirred from decadence and desire.

It’s hard to imagine the circumstance that led Low Anthem to assemble this effort. Was it psychedelic substances or a fascination for Faust? Whatever the case, Eyeland marks a trippy transformation.

Smith matches oddball narratives with clever, catchy tunes; he’s a really good songwriter. If he were a little happier or a little less prone to baroque eccentricity, he’s probably have a bigger following--but he wouldn’t be Sonny Smith, and that would be a shame.

The songs on Blanco first appeared on Bazan’s monthly 7” series, so it seems clear that using synthesizers was one way of differentiating them from their original versions. (He must like doing this, since his last album was a collaboration with the Passenger String Quartet.) But he seems to be onto something interesting with this electronicized approach.

If you’ve heard their main/prior bands then the sound of this won’t surprise you, but it’ll still feel like an old friend that you always pick up right where you left off.