Like its MCA spiritual predecessors, Modern Country shows what a great musician can do when he decides his skill is the least important part of the package.

Consolidation more than innovation, The Glowing Man still presents the current incarnation of Swans in its best light, as if this is the record the band has been working toward these past seven years.

Carolina is a gorgeous record, enticing and attractive, giving you its heart to hold and trusting you to treasure the experience.

Being a summer release, the sun really shines down on tunes like “Good Times,” with it’s go-go beat, “She Makes Me Laugh,” “Our Own World,” “Gotta Give It Time,’ and come on get happy with “You Bring the Summer.”

With The Westerner, Doe’s reached another milestone, a rugged, reliable individual who reflects the sturdy independence that characterizes the west at its best.

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.

There is not a single track on this record that doesn’t belong, each nearly flawless in their own way.

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.

Raw in places, expansive in others, and rife with Williams’ patented street-corner-talking, pimp-swagger style, I Wanna Go Back to Detroit City is as good a postcard for the Motor City as you’ll likely find all year.

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.

Steve Earle and Shawn Colvin sound remarkable together, sharing vocals and guitars on all 10 tracks.

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.

Follow Me Home sounds like 1966, but like it’s happening all over again, organically and without premeditation, and it rocks.

These songs are striking in a musical sense. Young, never the most dynamic vocalist, is remarkably expressive here.

Lyrics are hard to fathom, and, apparently, mostly improvised, but snatches of words suggest the same general mindset as the music.

True to its title, Solid States is, again, a solid workman-like affair, flush with resolute integrity, catchy choruses and songs that sound tailor made for instant gratification.

The album is a good beginning for Will Toledo and crew one on which they’ll hopefully build upon. Some of the tracks though seem too reek of an “indier” than thou attitude that’s best left at the door.

There are no hedonistic celebrations at the level of Wild Onion’s “Strawberry Smoothie” here, as many of the tempos have downshifted to soulful; nor do any of the hooks sink quite as deeply as “Mirror of Time” did.

This is a feel good album about terrible times.

The production has gotten bigger, slicker and more surgically clean, but the tunes haven’t.

Another Splash of Colour: New Psychedelia in Britain 1980-1995, has plenty of meat on the bone for the uninitiated as well as the seasoned psychedelic music listener.

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.

Unfortunately, there’s little of anything redeeming about the music on this album.

Taken in one extended listening session, Hold/Still proves titularly prophetic because you’re left exhausted from all the foregoing textural and tempo twists. One could liken the experience to ingesting a handful of lysergic tablets and then deciding to run a marathon that lasts all night. Once you’re done, you’re done for good. Hold still, kids.

While the melodies are occasionally amorphous, the poetry and passion are clearly conveyed.

Let’s be honest: the [Brian Jonestown Massacre] hasn’t hewed to its classic sound in some years, so why not let Psychic Ills take on the drug pop mantle instead? As this album proves, they [wear] it well.