Broken Social Scene - Rock Forgiveness Record: B+

"Art House Director"

What I found as a welcome change to Mastodon’s newest album, Crack the Skye and, to a lesser extent, Weezer’s The Red Album was the inclusion of the voices of the other band members, a technique that resulted in each member’s individual style and timbre being used to suit the subtle difference in sound from song to song that I find besets most great albums, to generally positive effect. After listening to Broken Social Scene’s newest album, Forgiveness Rock Record, and the band’s past albums, I have found that this tough but rewarding aesthetic has been a part of the band’s style since they began releasing music.

And so Forgiveness Rock Record benefits from placing a variety of singers at the forefront of their songs, if only so that they can explore a wider variety of musical styles. Brendan Canning’s cracked voice fits the country stylings of “Water in Hell”, wonderfully, even allowing for the light hoedown at the song’s end to be completely genuine. ­­­­The croon of Leslie Feist in harmony can either add a layer of immediacy in the mode of “Chase Scene” or can subvert the precocious boredom of “Sentimental X”. ­­­ The distortion on Kevin Drew’s voice adds a component of goofiness to the compelling “Art House Director”. These subtle aspects and how well they support the songs Broken Social Scene create is a testament to how excellent Forgiveness Rock Record is produced. Not only is the exchange of musicians calculated to get the best out of their songs, their performances and aural landscapes are shifted just enough to get their point across efficiently.

The reason Forgiveness Rock Record is rated so low relative to the praise it’s received from me is that, for a significant part of the album, John McEntire’s production gets too involved. Many of Forgiveness’s tracks are too long, and are only that way, because they have an unwanted level of atmosphere, a problem that affects some of Forgiveness’s best tracks, like “World Sick” and “Sweetest Kill”. The problem reaches its apex when the last third of “Ungrateful Father” is spent primping silence with unnecessary ambient textures. In addition to this filler rampant throughout the album, the one-two “meh”-fest of pseudo-instrumental “Highway Slippery Jam” and aforementioned “Ungrateful Father” is a huge chunk of wasted time out an album that has some serious highs to contend with.

What’s good is that nothing about Forgiveness Rock Record is outright insulting. If you think you can handle a couple moments of awkward thumb-twiddling, by all means, get the album. My criticism of it (which, ultimately, does not amount to much) stems from my idea of how this could have been a great instead of just a good album. Anyone familiar with Broken Social Scene knows that the band has and has displayed a penchant for fantastic long-players, but consider this one a letdown only if you hold them at that high esteem.

Broken Social Scene - Rock Forgiveness Record: B+

The Hold Steady - Heaven Is Whenever: B

"Hurricane J"

The most important thing to know about Heaven Is Whenever is that, for the album, The Hold Steady added a new guitarist. This one detail is the album’s greatest hindrance by far. Craig Finn and the gang do create some catchy melodies with their new album, but that extra density makes everything sound heavy and hulking. Songs like “Hurricane J” and “Rock Problems” are pretty good songwriting achievements, but they are dragged down by a baseness that roots them into sonic muck and certainly don’t do any favors for Finn’s erudite rambling vocal style. Heaven Is Whenever does display a good lot of the songwriting flair that has become expected from the band at this point in their career, which is probably why the album’s reception has been mixed rather than wholly negative. In the case of the album, some key element isn’t so much missing as one is too prevalent and is suffocating everything around it. For the first time The Hold Steady sound complacent and, at times, even bored, and anyone who knows punk can tell you where anyone can shove that kind of mindset.

The Hold Steady - Heaven Is Whenever: B

Flying Lotus - Cosmogramma: A-

"Do the Astral Plane"

I’d hate to go all Jimmy McMillin on you guys, but, if you have chosen to get Flying Lotus’s new album (Good choice by the way!), then, before you pop it into your stereo or what have you, listen to it in iTunes, but make sure to press Ctrl + T before hitting that play button. This will open up the audio-manipulated screensaver. As of writing this review, this screensaver program consists largely of a black visual canvas that has orbs with vibrating receptors on them contorting into and away from each other. Turn off all the lights close to where you are, and just concentrate on that screen for Cosmogramma’s forty-minute or so life span… isn’t it cool?

Cosmogramma is the kind of restless album that breezes through a multitude of emotions without so much as looking back for a second. There are moments of depression (“... And the World Laughs with You”), beauty (“Auntie’s Harp”), chaos (“Computer Face/Pure Being”) and, most prevalently, cool (“Do the Astral Plane”, “German Haircut”, “Saaaatteliite”), unfolding into somewhat of a space odyssey in front of you on that black screen. I read a review of Cosmogramma in which it was portrayed as the chronicling of the man, himself, Steven Ellison, when he gets sucked into a video game and has to battle his way out, which I find an intriguing angle, but one that misrepresents Cosmogramma as a concept album, a label that is often associated with great density. In fact, Cosmogramma is quite light on its feet, despite the clearly elaborate compositions that have evolved in the two years since Flying Lotus has released an album.

Cosmogramma’s tracks are mainly filed under “electronic music”, but songs like “Auntie’s Harp” and “German Haircut” take cues from Ellison’s lineage in jazz (His aunt was Alice Coltrane) and are legitimate jazz tracks, and excellent ones at that. Cosmogramma does a worthy job of consolidating Flying Lotus’s hold on what is relevant and what can be transcendent in electronic music. Also, it will suspend your fear of the dark for almost an hour, so that’s pretty cool too.

Flying Lotus - Cosmogramma: A-

Josh Ritter - So the World Runs Away: B+

"Folk Bloodbath"

Much is made of Josh Ritter by a vocal minority to make it appear as if the singer/songwriter is the most under-appreciated genius in indie rock. Aside from the zeitgeist-bating song titles that bring to mind notable visionaries like Bright Eyes and Elliot Smith, I see very little about Josh Ritter's So the World Runs Away that is deserving of more than a couple cursory glances. There's no doubt that this stuff is aesthetically pleasing, and there is not a single dud to name in the bunch, but so little stands out that it makes the argument that being consistently above average is almost as loathsome as being deliriously inconsistent. Josh Ritter fans will find nothing to fault about So the World Runs Away and neither do I. What can be taken away from this album is that some peoples' labeling of this artist as one of the most profound of this generation should be taken with a bit more skepticism.

Josh Ritter - So the World Runs Away: B+

The White Stripes - Under Great White Northern Lights: A-

"The Union Forever (Live)"

Under Great White Northern Lights, the film, is a fantastic visual representation of a relatively enigmatic band as they try to fulfill their goal of playing a show in every Canadian province. We all (or at least I) know that Jack White is one of the most consistently fantastic songwriters of this generation, but director Emmett Malloy shows off the man's adept sense of humor and passion for his art in a way that humanizes him in a fashion long overdue. The film also sheds some much-needed light on The Stripes' percussionist, Meg White, who we finally hear speak for an extended period of time, to find that... well she doesn't really have much to say.

Under Great White Northern Lights, the album, is a compilation of the band's performances that bridge the scenes of the film. It does not exhibit White's sense of humor. As the man explains in the film, he consciously moves instruments farther and farther away from each other so that he has to work harder and harder to play them and still maintain a cohesive performance. Even the keyboard introduced on the tour with the release of the band's latest, Icky Thump, is less an addition of texture but another weapon that White can assault his audience, and, more importantly, himself, with. The result of this setting finally committed to disc is the most ragged release The White Stripes career since their self-titled debut.

As a result, the best tracks performed on Under Great White Northern Lights are the ones that were made around that time in the band's career. The best on Under Great is the band's performance of the Citizen Kane-quoting "The Union Forever", from White Blood Cells, where White sounds somewhere between exasperated and malicious as he hollers "You can't be loved / For there is no true love". For the song's coda, White screams those words with only a devious keyboard supporting him, and it's the most convincingly insane White's ever been. Similar sonic compatriots "Black Math" from Elephant and "Jolene" from The White Stripes are exhilaratingly naked performances.

Conversely, Under Great White Northern Lights is weakest when the band plays tracks from the album they are supporting in that tour, 2007's Icky Thump. Icky Thump, in its own right, is a classic on par with the best The White Stripes have released, but, in this setting, the performances constantly sound like they're missing some form of depth. "Icky Thump" is relatively salvaged, but deep cuts like "300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpoor Blues" and "I'm Slowly Turning Into You" don't fare as well, as their inherently layered style is not represented well with just Jack and Meg trying their best to maintain their oxygen intake.

If you're more partial to the band's ragtag early career in the vein of their self-titled and White Blood Cells, you will inevitably love the bulk of Under Great White Northern Lights. White Stripes fans in general should also greatly enjoy this, but if you are interested in The Stripes and see this as a way of introducing yourself to them, I would avoid this. For however excellent Under Great White Northern Lights is, it is a starkly singular representation of a band that has gone through a lot more changes in its decade-long career than people give it credit for.

The White Stripes - Under Great White Northern Lights: A-

Peter Wolf - Midnight Souvenirs: B+

"Tragedy"

The most notable anecdotal example I have of my experience with this album is that I distinctly remember really enjoying this album when it first came out, but then completely forgetting most of the album's tracks within a few months. This is a little strange, because Midnight Souvenirs is not an inherently forgettable album in that all its tracks are uninteresting. The former J. Geils Band leader exhibits an admirable ear for hooks on his newest album, most notably in first track, "Trajedy". The album's Achilles tendon is simply that, once that last track fades out, I almost immediately forget what was notable about the album. If I listened to Midnight Souvenirs in the morning and you asked me about it that night I wouldn't be able to tell you much, even if you showed me the tracklist (except for "Trajedy", of course). I don't know why the album has this effect on me, especially because, when I remind myself of the album with multiple listens, I really do enjoy it. My recommendation is that, if you like The Rolling Stones and don't mind some Rolling Stone worship, get Midnight Souvenirs, especially "Trajedy". If you can't somehow relate to the album like me, no worry. There are plenty of other releases to appreciate.

Peter Wolf - Midnight Souvenirs: B+

Delorean - Subiza: B+

"Stay Close"

When you call your newest album Subiza, especially at the tail end of the sun-bleached electronica movement that started in the summer of 2009, you better have the goods to deliver a truly euphoric listening experience. Not only does Delorean succeed with their newest, they craft one of the best longplayers in the genre. From first single, "Real Love" to the literally orgasmic "Stay Close", the Spanish outfit make a pretty damn good case to dance your ass off, or, if you're ensconced in the dissipating chill of mid March, it will make you fantasize about how good things will get in a couple months. Subiza may be low on depth, but it is one of the few glo-fi albums of recent that could be heard a year from now. Besides, depth can be some serious baggage, sometimes.

Delorean - Subiza: B+

Negură Bunget - Vîrstele pămîntului: C+

"Pamint"

For about the first thirty seconds of Vîrstele pămîntului's first track, the album sounds promising. I could go into how those thirty seconds sound interesting, but I'm not going to, because all you need to know is that, from those thirty seconds on, Vîrstele pămîntului is just as frustrating as any rudderless throat-shredding metal album you're bound to encounter this or any other year. Vîrstele pămîntului should be wholly avoided. But those first thirty seconds sure sounded decent, didn't they?

Negură Bunget - Vîrstele pămîntului: C+

Titus Andronicus - The Monitor: A+

"A More Perfect Union"

I really wish I had the leniency in time to write my full review for this album, and I've been conducting one since it was released, but I would feel like I was doing it a disservice by not giving it my full and undivided attention. I promise this will certainly not be the last you hear from this album, and, until, that time inevitably comes, I can only suggest you get acquainted with and study it, so that you can knowingly nod when my analysis of it is posted.

Titus Andronicus - The Monitor: A+

The Morning Benders - Big Echo: B+

"Excuses"

Big Echo is, by no means, 2010's best album, but, as I listen to more music from this year, I'm starting to think that it is the year's most influential. Well, maybe it's not so much influential but more encompassing of the sound of what a significant portion of the newest indie rock has been creating.

The reverb that purveys the album is absolutely nothing revelatory, but, when coupled with the shambling percussion of Julian Harmon and the soaring vocals of Chris Chu, it creates a nice formula that is at the very least pleasant sounding. Chu is the clear focal point here, and his presence is welcome and uplifting. The way he stretches out his vowels on songs like "Excuses" and "Promises", sounds like he's smoothing them out as if his mouth was a sonic rolling pin. His tone is ethereal and spellbinding and his contribution is reason enough to give Big Echo your attention.

Musically, the band for the most part, is excellent. What keeps Big Echo from being a great album is that some tracks are regrettably just too forgettable. Songs like the sun-bleached "Excuses" and the R.E.M.-sounding "All Day All Light" are excellent uses of the band's aesthetic, but every now and then they get bogged down in adult-contemporary mediocrity. Regardless, Big Echo is a really good album and might be the only pioneering modern rock album your grandma will enjoy.

The Morning Benders - Big Echo: B+

jj - jj n° 3: B

"Let Go"

There's something about jj that I inherently distrust. Honestly, I can't describe it. Maybe it's the quoting of "Around the World" or the badly-concealed boredom apparent in Elin Kastlander's voice, but there's something about this band that makes me believe they are playing music less because they want to make quality stuff and more because they have bills to pay.

Taken away from my purely subjective observation (I have been a little vindictive lately), jj n° 3 is nothing if not adequate. The music on display here is mostly comprised of acoustic strumming ballads with the occasional appearance of sunny, reverb-drenched glo-fi. Nothing particularly astounds, but, then again, nothing particularly disgusts, so I guess, technically, it's a win. If you need something to listen to while you cook some brie or if you're having a little trouble sleeping, this might do the trick. And if I finish that analogy, I will be giving in to a music-review cliche so hackneyed it'll almost perfectly fit the album, itself.

jj - jj n° 3: B

Free Energy - Stuck on Nothing: B

"Bang Pop"

There's something about Free Energy's uncompromisingly brazen attempt to make you giggle and jive that makes me loath them like nothing I've heard this year. The way Stuck on Nothing, the band's first album, has so little emotional depth is so frustrating, I often imagine myself fainting and sinking into a cavernous abyss where I'll keep trying to eat an infinite amount of nauseating icing to get to that coveted, warm, welcoming cupcake if I listen to it for too long.

Unfortunately, I would be lying to you if I said a significant portion of Stuck on Nothing wasn't quite catchy. The best example of this is "Bang Pop", whose rudimentary bass drum kick and snare combination may not turn heads, but whose streamlined guitars and rousing chorus put it on the good side of Candyland. The rest varies from the entertaining to the mundane, but all have that shit-eating grin that some may find refreshing but I find irrevocably repulsive.

Stuck on Nothing was originally recorded as a bare-bones demo, but, once it was give to James Murphey of LCD Soundsystem fame, it became the over-produced, nutrient-free Cheesy Crust Pizza of an album it is, now. I don't want people to think I hate this album, because it just wants you to, at the very least, dance. In most cases, I find that quality nice in albums, and, unlike something like Raditude, these affectless ditties are supported with some pretty good songwriting talent. There's just something about this album that resembles a sneeringly disingenuous politician, but, at the same time, a band who would be genuinely offended by my smearing of their debut album as such. It is this contradiction that lies at the heart of the quality of Stuck on Nothing, a veritable brick of cane sugar, but one that will surprise you in how much you can stand it before collapsing from exhaustion.

Free Energy - Stuck on Nothing: B

Gonjasufi - A Sufi and a Killer: B+ / Daughters - Daughters: A- / Immolation - Majesty and Decay: C+

"Majesty and Decay" "The Theater Goer"

"She Gone"

What is the soundtrack to Hell? Well, I suppose it all depends on how you view it. If you view the inferno as its most conventional form, a place of plain and simple eternal damnation with Satan presiding comfortably over the assembly line of perdition he has kept efficient for so long, Majesty and Decay may be the record to suit such a vision. Immolation's newest finds the New York metal band playing their MO of death metal with very little variation from what they've been doing their entire career. The music, itself, is nothing extraordinary, but what I find interesting about the whole affair is how stale it all sounds. You've got your guitar solos, your screaming vocals and your blast beats, and, for however bad that kind of combination can get when performed slovenly, music like this has never left me so cold. It has such a low engagement value, whenever the music goes into a bout of grating double-time screaming, I find myself just rolling my eyes and taking myself out of the album, entirely, relegating it to apocalyptic background music, and I'm sure that's the last thing Immolation intended with their newest. If Hell sounds like Majesty and Decay, it'll still be a pretty bad place, but it might be a surprisingly boring one.

If you have a more romantic view of Hell, a Hades-helmed greek myth inhabited by terrifying but inexplicably adorable characters like Nosferatu and Beezlebub, then Gonjasufi's A Sufi and a Killer may be more appropriate. Those familiar with this album may argue that the album is more appropriate for soundtracking a hotboxed car ride or a subversive movie theater opening in the mid sixties, but the Hell I imagine being chronicled by A Sufi and a Killer is a lot more stylized and a lot more familiar. Gonjasufi's dilapidated voice and the album's lo-fi production that makes it only sound cruder sounds like it would be playing from the jukebox of a pool hall in that place of eternal damnation. If The Last Picture Show's maligned boredom is your idea of Hell, then I can completely imagine Gonjasufi's "She Gone" replacing the first scene's Hank Williams backing. The Hell accompanied by A Sufi and a Killer is an ideological one, where you never get that drink of water no matter how desperately thirsty you are, that boulder will always roll down that hill, and, to quote The Fairly Oddparents, there are over three hundred channels... with nothing to watch.

But if you have a revisionist's view of Hell, where faces and genitalia are mutilated eternally in only the most graphic ways possible, Daughters' newest and supposedly last album is a perfect fit. The band is a firm believer in the idea that the sound of you repeatedly smashing your face against a wall is a musical note, nonetheless, and go on to prove it by making eight tracks of insanely reckless noise rock. Singer Alexis Marshall sounds like Isaac Brock, singer of Modest Mouse, if he was being chased by a bear, frantically flailing his vocal chords while only the most blunt and unwieldy sounds are hurled at you from all directions. With the help of bassist Samuel Moorehouse Walker and drummer Jonathan Syverson, the album always retains some semblance of structure. As a result, Daughters is pure chaos, but very exacting chaos. In a way, it chronicles the scariest of the three Hells I mentioned, because it is the depiction of a place inhabited by demon vigilantes, where everyone has just as little a grasp of the situation as you do. If you let it, Daughters can give you some pretty vivid dreams. While plenty of albums inspire joy and optimism, few inspire genuine fear in the listener, and Daughters should be strangely commended for what they have accomplished.

Gonjasufi - A Sufi and a Killer: B+ / Daughters - Daughters: A- / Immolation - Majesty and Decay: C+

Gorillaz - Plastic Beach: B

"Stylo"

Considering how much I despised Demon Days, Plastic Beach far exceeded my expectations. Although it has many flaws over the span of its sixteen tracks, there is much to be enjoyed here, and the album's length can allow you to pick and choose what you like and still have a pretty decent-sized product to enjoy.

The best of Plastic Beach is varied and spans multiple styles. "Stylo", the album's first single, for example, is the album's best track, riding a deliriously catchy bass riff to just about its farthest boundary without being completely obnoxious. "Superfast Jellyfish" displays some hilariously conversational rhymes from De La Soul that give you the impression the group is feeling out the track's cartoonishly fun potential just as you do. And "White Flag" is just a playful jaunt, displaying some great call-and-response rapping between Kano and Bashy.

The worst of Plastic Beach, quite simply, is when David Albarn's vocals are front and center. With the exception of "Stylo" and "Melancholy Hill", Albarn's vocal contributions on Plastic Beach are universally inert. His distorted malaise is far out of place and can often derail a pretty good song with its presence. "Rhinestone Eyes" is a good example of this, but the most literal is "Empire Ants", which diverges from an extremely forgettable Albarn lament into a fantastically glitzy romp helmed by Little Dragon so delightful, you wonder why that beginning was included at all by the track's end.

And, because the good and bad are dispersed so evenly throughout Plastic Beach, the album, ultimately, defines hit-and-miss. Albarn isn't the only one to blame for bad tracks, though. Lou Reed's cracked monotone on "Some Kind of Nature" is amusing for about a minute, and gives the song absolutely no replay value, and, though I hate to say it, with the exception of "Stylo", anytime Mos Def appears is a near guaranteed disaster ("Sweepstakes" is a leading contender for worst song of the year). The album would definitely benefit from the trimming of fat, but, because some songs have such drastically redeeming and abhorrent qualities within themselves, I'm not so sure the taking out of songs would do all that much good. Plastic Beach shows Albarn still has some kinks to fix with his side project, but the ratio of good to bad on his albums is improving.

Gorillaz - Plastic Beach: B

Broken Bells - Broken Bells: A-

"The High Road"

Sometimes a record of exactly what you needed is exactly what you need. It sounds like a pretty innocuous thing to say, but I say it, because I am aware that I make a lot of noise on this platform about being different and constantly evolving a sound. I wholly submit myself to the constant search for the good, bad and ugly of progressive music, but I am also fully aware of the fact that there is always that basic human instinct in everyone where the familiar will be the ultimate satiator.

Broken Bells is the pairing of Shins singer, James Mercer, and Danger Mouse from Gnarls Barkley, Grey Album and miscellaneous production job fame. Together, they have written an album that does not extend the musical boundaries of either artist, but one that is extraordinarily satisfying. Shins fans will see this as a Shins album with a little more gospel influence and fans of Danger Mouse's work that have somehow never heard the Shins (I'm sure there are some) will see this as an adult-contemporary Gnarls Barkley. I'm fairly confident both parties will enjoy this album, though, because, for however easy it can be to draw upon the more-of-the-same quality of both acts on display, it's still quite good music, and it's hard to argue with melodies as potent as this.

The only remote curveball is "The Mall & Misery", which sounds like a coda to "Mongrel Heart", the song that preceeds it. It's a song that seems to start from the breakdown, something that you hardly hear in pop music, but, other than that, again, you're not going to hear sounds you've never heard before. Mercer's vocal presence is superb, especially on first single, "The High Road" and genuinely exuberant pop consistently oozes through every note. Off the cuff album collaborations have never sounded this much greater than the sum of its parts (I'm looking at you, Chickenfoot), and this pairing I would not mind hearing more music from. And, based on the news from both James Mercer and Danger Mouse's mainstays, it really looks like this is a case where everybody wins. Savor it.

Broken Bells - Broken Bells: A-

Liars - Sisterworld: B-

"Scarecrows on a Killer Slant"

When Liars get noisy and absonant, get the fuck out of the way, because there's nothing stopping them. Hearing them ranting and raving on Sisterworld's "Scarecrow on a Killer Slant", you get the aural image of someone punching a wall until they can see the bone of their knuckles. Based on their lyrical ambiguity ("Why you shoot the man with the gun / 'Cause he bother you!"), you get the impression these guys are rebels without causes, but punks angry at nothing is hardly new, and, in the case of the best of Sisterworld, it isn't any less exhilarating.

The problem with Sisterworld is that the moments of raw intensity the band exhibits are a glaring minority. The album is mostly comprised of meandering synth odysseys that contort and blaze but never go anywhere, and are, frankly, useless. The fact that they're juxtaposed with works of such unadulterated vitriol as "Scarecrows" make the lows only seem lower. I don't recommend Sisterworld, just a couple songs on it. The band's apparent compulsion to balance their releases is a clear hinderance to their greatest strengths, so it's tough to see if this is a rut they will ever get out of.

Liars - Sisterworld: B-

Dark Tranquility - We Are the Void: B

"Shadow in Our Blood"

When it came to all the crap metal albums I had been listening to in the beginning of this year, We Are the Void came as somewhat of a relief. Sure, you’ve got that relentlessly atonal screaming and not much songwriting chops in play to make up the difference, but there is just enough song craft and interesting guitar work intact to keep you not totally disinterested. This is recommended for any music reviewer who needs something to get him or her out of the doldrums of the metal scene of the beginning of 2010. If you’re not one, then you’re better of looking elsewhere.

Dark Tranquility - We Are the Void: B

Johnny Cash - American VI: Ain't No Grave: B+

"Redemption Day"

Before starting this blog, I had already developed a relatively extensive rapport of music from past and present. Of course, I was just one music devotee, so there were plenty of artists that I knew existed and I knew others enjoyed, but never got around to listening to. As a result, with Check Your Mode, I have been able to dip my toe into artists and genres both old and new that I would not normally look into.

And so this brings me to American VI: Ain't No Grave, in which I open myself to the life and music of Johnny Cash at the end of both. American VI is the sixth and supposedly last collection of songs from the sessions that Cash had recorded with Rick Rubin at the end of his life that will ever see the light of day. All but one of its ten songs are covers and all of them have that folks-y sound to them that fans of the American series and Johnny Cash have come to expect.

Since Ain't No Grave was released, critics have been accusing Rick Rubin of being over-eager to draw nostalgia from the listener with the after-the-fact accouterments he has added to Cash's mostly acoustic recordings. For the most part, I don't agree with this sentiment. The proverbial sap spile to the maple of nostalgia: unnecessary string arragements, are never an uncomfortable presence on this album. Still, there is no doubt that the best of Ain't No Grave is when the least window dressing is applied. All Rubin has to do is introduce the sound of clinking chains or plunk a low note on a piano to make the title track and album highlight, "Redemption Day", respectively, extremely effective. "Water", which features nothing more than an acoustic and Cash's rosy tenor, is something of pure hushed wonderment as the man describes a tale of temptation amidst a desert landscape.

Like much of the American series, Ain't No Grave is successful in at least converting every song Cash plays into something purely his own. I could not imagine hearing the songs of Ain't No Grave being covered by anyone else, even album closer, "Aloha Oye", whose straightforward and surprisingly spry performance is absolutely lovely, even if it's not the outright tear-jerker Rick Rubin may have intended it to be. At times, Cash sounds vulnerable on Ain't No Grave, at others stoic. But what's ultimately fulfilling about the album is that, even at the end of his life, Cash exuded a confidence and passion in his music that could take others multiple lifetimes to muster.

Johnny Cash - American VI: Ain't No Grave: B+

High on Fire - Snakes for the Divine: B+

"Snakes for the Divine"

The first fourth of Snakes for the Divine is absolutely fantastic. The title track is harrowing from its incredible beginning crescendo to the bass tapping in its chorus. First single and second track, "Frost Hammer", is similarly pummeling, and "Bastard Samurai" proves to be a pretty good holdover. Musically, the band never falters. Drummer Des Kensel's primal thrap is effective with the album's gritty production and Matt Pike's scowl always sounds like Tom Araya after decades of chain smoking. However, as Snakes for the Divine progresses, it goes from an excellent release to a pretty good one, as the band's knack for prime metal songwriting wanes and begins to tread water, creatively.

Overall, Snakes for the Divine is a very good album. I'm just a little disappointed at how much it could have been a great one. Still, for all its flaws, High on Fire has released one of this year's best American metal albums (which isn't too much of a compliment considering how much Scandinavia has been sweeping in this category this year). It delivers in head-pummeling craft, but, as a cohesive product, Snakes for the Divine leaves a little to be desired.

High on Fire - Snakes for the Divine: B+

Xiu Xiu - Dear God, I Hate Myself: C+

"Dear God I Hate Myself"

Yep, it's that kind of album. That title. That cover. I'd like to say that Dear God, I Hate Myself isn't the melodramatic melancholy pity party one might think it would be, but it is. The only reason I'm not giving it a lower rating than just crappy and not lambasting it in an emo-hating tirade is that the album does show some signs of quality amidst the dreck. These moments are quite few and far between, and far too much of Dear God, I Hate Myself is Jamie Stewart moaning over amorphous arrangements. Even the one moment of optimism, "This Too Shall Pass Away (For Freddy)", sounds half-assed and tossed-off, so it's hardly any solace for the rest of the album's depressive nature. Don't bother with Dear God, I Hate Myself. As much as I'd like to say it transcends the emo archetype, it plays right into most of the genre's drawbacks.

Xiu Xiu - Dear God, I Hate Myself: C+