Quieter and striking a more somber tone than their Grammy-nominated first record, it sounds as if the band went out of its way to tone down the catchiness of their initial offering. But the softer focus put the lyrics front and center and that’s, in part, what separates The Lumineers from the slew of bands that came after trying to replicate the success of “Ho Hey”.

On record, Teen Men come across as your average, edgy modern pop combo, all shimmery, engaging songs with few constraints and even fewer darker designs.

It’s doubtful anyone will stroll about humming these tunes, but so too, it wouldn’t be at all surprising to find there’s something about them that’s all but impossible to shake.

Corb Lund, the former Canadian punk rocker turned roots country singer, is back with his eighth record and has settled into a comfortable, stripped down grove with a little lap steel thrown in for good measure.

No matter how synthetic and mechanical things get, the stain of cosmic psychedelia never completely fades.

Skying proves a maturing for the band and unveils a new realm of sonic possibilities.

Underrated Silence is never less than pretty, and often strikingly so, yet it lacks the grit that might make these compositions emotionally involving.

It’s all quite pleasant, nicely played and sung and recorded, but perhaps a little distant. These tunes flow by like sunny afternoons and when they’re done you can’t remember much.

Some tracks prize vibe over structure to their detriment.

If concept albums aren't your thing, so be it. But if a rare musical vision is, you'd be foolish to pass up Night of Hunters.

The songs on Deeper Into Dream don't manage to connect with listeners like some of Lee's previous work.

The formula--and the tempo--never really varies, although some of the musical settings are craggier than others.

On balance, then, exactly 68.5% of this record is worth listening to.

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.

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.

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.

With the debut, the main argument against Fool's Gold seemed to be that they were appropriating too much African influence, sounds they didn't have a right to, into what was primarily pop. With Leave No Trace, I'd say they've gone too far the other way, eliminating the eccentricities and exoticisms that made them interesting.

While that sad waste of talent and potential deals the album a serious blow, the rest of the set proves mostly satisfying, even when the song selection remains relatively unknown.

If, after four decades, Terms of My Surrender appears to take a change of tune, in Hiatt’s hands it’s a winning formula regardless.

With Instinct, Niki and the Dove have made an album that will surely resonate with the American crowds already grooving to the likes of Hot Chip, Passion Pit and Twin Shadow while providing Sub Pop with a whole new planet of sound to colonize.

Despite being together for more than 35 years, their sound is tight and refined without sounding tired.

Maybe it's just a question of getting used to this new Mangan, but you can't help but lament the old one's demise.

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’s pretty much stuck in nuevo Nirvanaland.

There are a few more hooks on this latest release and the production is clearer, but it certainly doesn’t water down the sentiment.

Despite the variety, this is a decidedly marginal set of songs, one that’s well out of sync with even the most archival Americana.

It captures an aura of domestic bliss through songs that are unfailingly effervescent and jazz infused to the max.

All in all, it’s Rodriguez’s way with both a samba and a sway that helps elevate this effort while making it one of her best yet.