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.

These nine songs are dusty and determined, stoic ruminations on hard luck and happenstance.

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

With heart on his sleeve, Wagner opts for sobriety, but when those strings swell, the effect can be intoxicating.

While Burdon himself remains indignant, and indomitable, his tenacious stance is coached in songs that rarely measure up to the classics credited to him early on.

On their fourth album in a decade, the Donkeys don’t have surprises so much as a more confident and accomplished execution.

Consider this music a salve for the soul--restful, resigned, pretty and pensive... and yet as fragile as it is fleeting.

What might have been a great album merely becomes a good one, due to fact that much needed variation is in such short supply.

Though Thompson remains in the same contemplative state lyrically, In the Pit of the Stomach is a great follow up to Walls and unveils an orchestral maturity form the four gents.

Big Star was more than the sum of its parts, and as evidenced here, Chilton was only just beginning to mine his.

Seeing this is Grossi's first full-length, it's an achievement, and although it fizzles out near the end, the killer tracks far eclipse the lesser numbers.

There are certainly times when a bit more instrumentation (a cello, some percolating percussion, a lyrical guitar solo) would have enhanced the presentation.

There’s a cover of Billy Joe Shaver’s “Georgia on a Fast Train” tacked onto the record (only available on the limited edition CD and LP) that doesn’t quite do justice to the classic, but there are still more than enough bar room sing-alongs on Holdin’ the Bag to make the album worth it.

Lumineers is an album that successfully weaves a homespun, roots-folk feel with poetic prowess.

It’s that free-flowing vibe that helps make this seem more like an overdue reunion for the home town crowd as much as any attempt at a polished performance.

There are a couple of stumbles here, like on the somber “Easy Love,” but for the most part, Late Riser is crammed with stunning songs strong enough to make you forget what else is going on in the world--at least for 30 minutes or so.

The results come off like the soundtrack to an imaginary video game, one where environmental exploration is more important than staying on task.