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.

Quever’s songs are meant to provide sweet succor, not catharsis, and in that Life Among the Savages proves to be pretty good company.

It’s a little too smoothed out and indistinct now--most of the songs are well crafted but a little TOO well crafted.

The evolution may be jarring to diehards who loved the band’s take on old-time string band folk, but Black Prairie’s skill at playing its own version of rock brushes aside any carping.

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

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

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.

Ultimately, Whispers suggests a kind of sublime sensibility, sentiments that will hopefully encourage all potential fellow travelers to quickly get on board.

One should not have to turn in anywhere from one-to-two-hours of wages to hear the old coot warble out Willie Nelson’s “On The Road Again”, regardless of how novel the way by which he crafted it.

Talent and skill overflow from the fingertips of the members of Trans Am, but that doesn’t mean they should let it make a mess on the carpet.

Sisyphus is ultimately as off the wall a release as you’ll likely encounter this year.

Revelation hardly pushes the boundaries of what the BJM can do, but it’s nice to hear the band reiterating what it does best.

Ultimately, Wine Dark Sea is all about the mystique, making it nothing less than a fascinating ethereal excursion.

Love ‘em or loathe ‘em, they provide the clearest picture of what Gira and Swans are trying to do.

Interesting juxtapositions proliferate, but Ava Luna often seems to be pursuing oddity for its own sake. The best cuts here are the most unitary.

Modestly presented but appropriately self-confident in its dedication to craft, Hendra is a low-key but sturdy delight.

The result is slightly uneven, but ultimately has some fantastic songs on it.

Though the band seems to have packed all of its musical interests and abilities into the album’s 11 songs, this is a most likely only a sampling of their capabilities and of the colorful ideas yet to spring from the mind of Jocie Adams.

They still have that dirty, carefree, uncompromising vibe, but on Underneath the Rainbow it’s able to be tamed, morphing into melodic garage rock that’s as catchy and easily digestible as it is rugged and in-your-face.

Oftentimes, it’s an odd juxtaposition, and one that isn’t always in sync.

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.

Lyrically, the album is pretty mediocre, but the band has always seen their playing overshadow the words; Black Beehive is no different.

At a half hour, Too True might seem brief, but Penny makes the most of every minute.

The rest is a mix from great (Glen Hansard’s “Pressing On” and Deer Tick’s “Night After Night”) to the not so much (Aaron Freeman’s “Wiggle Wiggle”).

Maybe they were trying to evoke Leonard Cohen’s Songs From a Room but they came up with something sweeter (albeit noir-ish) in the process.

With Holly, Waterhouse really comes into his own, branding himself as a retro crossover crooner whose immediate intent appears intended to instigate a ‘60s soul revival.

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

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.