Heavy Trash deftly restores and reinvigorates the primitive era of rock and blues on its third LP, offering tinny, gritty and gnarled throwback production that pays tribute to the golden days of greasers.

It's all very familiar and nice, nothing too radical, and the kind of stuff that gets lapped up and lambasted in equal measure, depending on who's dispensing the feedback. But really, what did you expect?

Darnielle is having so much fun splashing around in the cinematic world of gory retribution that his delight is, perversely, inclusive and inviting.

In song after song there are moments where it sounds like the band is weaving its way into a fantastic instrumental jam section, only to have the new idea abruptly cut short by the track’s end or an obligatory return to the next verse.

No less than four producers--Mike Elizondo, David Kahne, Jeff Lynne and Garret “Jacknife” Lee--contributed to the album, and their collective efforts have resulted in a mid-tempo muddle of pseudo-lovely tracks plagued by a hovering cloud of meddling strings, slappy drums and perfunctory triangle chimes.

With The U.S. Albums, we get a cleansed version of the experience, many times utilizing the UK remasters.... Sure, it’s a quibble to harp over better quality, but there is an argument to be made for historical accuracy.

Although the album could fall short of hardcore fans' expectations, it's a fairly accessible introduction to the band.

Black Hours illuminates Leithauser’s individual abilities for sure. And once he firms up what it is he actually wants to say or at least how he wants to say it, the result will surely be worth leaning in on to process.

The result is a combustible album that doesn’t seek to recapture the band’s old spark so much as light a new one.

It’s not a game-changer, career-wise--Russell doesn’t need one--but it’s perhaps a work that will gain him the broader recognition he has long deserved.

With The Drop Beneath, Eternal Summers aren’t pushing the envelope in the same sense that some of their peers are, but that’s not a bad thing. They don’t need to.

A much-matured (now fortysomething father) Chris ?nds peace and clarity through some of his ?nest, most poetic storytelling to date.

An album that needs a bit more of its own personality, but it’s sung with the confidence of someone who thinks they’ve got it all figured out.

A premature nostalgia trip: a journey back to college radio at the end of the '90s. [Apr/May 2006, p.106]

It's an easy listen, a friendly collection of solid journeyman jams and a decent starting place for the uninitiated.

High Noon may not necessarily break through the American market, but is worth a listen for its consistently catchy Canadian pop rock.

This album is also an experiment—a glorious one where we get to hear Demi Lovato’s virtuosic vocal technique and belting.

While FIDLAR benefit from cleaned-up production, the hit-or-miss, albeit courageous, tracklist is indicative of a band that’s still workshopping their sound.

It's not quite as immediate as pop-rap requires. As for overestimating his audience's intelligence--or their interest in geopolitical unrest--there are worse ways to fall from the top.

For the Recently Found Innocent is a fantastic-sounding record, the production bringing to life the small details that make it more than a retread or homage.

Other Nashville all-stars-Lee Ann Womack ("I'm a Honky Tonk Girl"), Carrie Underwood ("You're Lookin' at Country"), and Reba McEntire ("If You're Not Gone Too Long")--contribute perfectly adequate performances, and Miranda Lambert plows duet partner Sheryl Crow into the ground with her saucy delivery on "Coal Miner's Daughter," which features a cameo by Miss Loretta herself. Still, most of the disc's highlights come from those outside of the country genre.

Sister completely one-ups the band’s debut from eight years ago.

Leave Me Alone manages to be a nostalgic album that nevertheless lives in the moment.

While playing catchy, well-crafted songs isn't necessarily a bad thing, it is sometimes less than exciting.

It’s danceable, sure, but there’s a sinister edge, and the album spans more than just your classic ska and reggae beats. It’s easy to listen to, easy to get lost in. Music to fight the power by.

Dawes’ latest may well sound fresh and new, or at least vaguely soulful, if you don’t know it’s a retread, but Passwords is all too easy to crack, and what’s inside isn’t really worth protecting when others have been doing it all better for decades.

Mines is Menomena at its best-mentally relentless and physically ruthless.

While Wondrous Bughouse may not be for everyone, it certainly pushes new barriers.