Race Horses - Goodbye Falkenburg: B+

"Cake"

Race Horses attempt to tow the line between the wry narratives of Los Campesinos! and the fetching richness of The Hives. Unfortunately for Race Horses, Goodbye Falkenburg has neither the playback-pleading cleverness of the former nor the immediate catchiness of the latter. And, although Falkenburg is an above average album, it does not bode well for Race Horses that it is released at a time when groups with similar sounds are releasing far superior material at an almost dizzying frequency. Let's hope the group learns fast and finds more definition for their next album.

Race Horses - Goodbye Falkenburg: B+

Jack Rose - Luck in the Valley: B+

"Luck in the Valley"

To be perfectly honest, Luck in the Valley is basically ten tracks of acoustic noodling. It makes for the pleasantest of pleasant listens. Just don't expect any revelations when the album's over.

Jack Rose - Luck in the Valley: B+

Sigh - Scenes From Hell: B+ / Fang Island - Fang Island: A-

"The Summer Funeral" "Dream of Dreams / Careful Crossers"

Talk about sensory overload. If you want your faith in the unpredictability of modern music to be renewed, look no further than the newest from Sigh and Fang Island.

Sigh play avant garde metal, a label whose sound can bring up many different interpretations. In this case it is, essentially, black metal with one major addition: a full orchestra. Singer and saxophonist (and yes she uses it) Dr. Mikannibal's orchestration is incredible if not surprising juxtaposed with the downright ragged production of the band itself (Every time there's a drum break, I think the band's going to go into the Scooby-Doo theme song).

Scenes from Hell still manages to be a cohesive product despite its contrasting styles. It even sounds, at times, irrevocably immaculate. The guitar solo in "The Summer Funeral" is a surprisingly crisp bout of "November Rain" quality guitar heroics, and it's just one hidden gem in an album full of them.

However, sometimes gratifying moments are spaced out too far, at times leaving listeners with just the stylings of a lo-fi metal band, which can get grating if it seems like there's no orchestration break in sight.

No doubt Sigh have no problem separating themselves from their metallic brethren. At the very least Scenes from Hell will be the most interesting metal album you will hear all year.

Much like most of the albums in The Great Catch-Up, Fang Island was initially listened to on a computer with only one working speaker. And where most albums made in stereo suffered greatly (Axis: Bold As Love still sounds pretty good without drums, though), Fang Island's newest's sounded all the more intriguing. The palm-muted triplets played by the rhythm guitar in the introduction to lead single "Daisy" were recorded in the right speaker, so its elevated volume only drew greater contrast between them and the relatively light tone of the song. However, after listening to the album on multiple sound systems, I realized my original predicament had not created a new quality to Fang Island, but had accentuated one of its most prevalent themes.

Although the contrast in metal-influenced technique on the otherwise pop of "Daisy" throughly surprised me, it was by no means an isolated incident. In fact, all of Fang Island has this quality of a grab-bag-of-music-technique; so much so that one could almost call it post-rock.

Not only in genre-bending is Fang Island unique, though. As it progresses, the album becomes less of a collection of songs, but of snippets of song ideas, albeit excellent ones. Only a couple of songs have verses, let alone choruses. "Davey Crocket", for example, is a six minute coda to the song preceding it. Even though it is simply an addendum to a different song, it broods and builds to an inevitable release that comes after a wait longer than both its reference point and any other song on the album.

Fang Island is a refreshing rejection of the conventions of pop songwriting, always keeping things interesting but never getting confusing or difficult. It's the kind of album where you wonder what the band that made it will do next. Maybe we'll even hear a bridge. That would be neat.

Sigh - Scenes From Hell: B+ / Fang Island - Fang Island: A-

Yellow Swans - Going Places: B+

"Foiled"

I expected myself to hate this album before I heard it. A genre whose foundation is based in, more or less, noise (as the connotation of a genre called "drone" would entail) did not initially appeal to me. However, it isn't very hard to find beautiful sounds in Going Places. Furthermore, there aren't any moments on the album that are particularly grating or boring, two qualities I was expecting to hear upon the album's onset. So my final recommendation is this: If you too have preconceived notions on the drone or noise genre, Going Places may be the album that confounds them.

Yellow Swans - Going Places: B+

Motion City Soundtrack - My Dinosaur Life: D

"Her Words Destroyed My Planet"

It is nearly impossible to extricate My Dinosaur Life from the concept of irony. It's inescapable, saturating every note, theme, and lyric that Motion City Soundtrack play and singer Justin Pierre sings. Listening to first track, "Worker Bee", in which Pierre screams "I've been a good worker bee. I deserve a GOLD STAR!", one can imagine the tech assistants snickering during the recording. The problem with My Dinosaur Life is that, in this same scenario, Pierre would probably look at them with a puzzled look, wondering why anyone would laugh at his seemingly serious lyrics. You see, with the release of My Dinosaur Life, it would appear Motion City Soundtrack have come down with the same ailment that has afflicted Weezer for nearly a decade. Instead of using irony as a tool to mold an identity for their sound, MCS have allowed irony to become their identity. It is no coincidence that My Dinosaur Life houses music widely different from Motion City Soundtrack's past releases. Those previous three albums' tunes revolved around themes of unsureness and vulnerability, Pierre's emotive voice fitting the material to an almost uncomfortable degree. Now, however, it sounds as if Motion City Soundtrack have finally gathered a confidence in their craft. Unfortunately for them, this results in an enormous drop-off in quality; confidence in spewing cringeworthy non sequiturs and nauseating pop culture references. So, ultimately, the good news is that MCS have finally found their identity, but the bad news is that identity entails the abandonment of all the elements that made them identifiable. How ironic.

Motion City Soundtrack - My Dinosaur Life: D

Surfer Blood - Astro Coast: B+

"Floating Vibes"

"Swim", the first single from Surfer Blood's debut album, never struck me as Astro Coast's highlight as much as many other publications proclaimed. In fact, I see that song in the context of the rest of the album as an outlier; the comical amount of reverb and admittedly anthemic chorus awkward juxtaposed with the clean guitar jams surrounding the track. Instead, I'm more partial to "Floating Vibes". Its speaker-rattling treble and general buoyancy is a much better representation of the elements that make Surfer Blood's debut such an enriching experience.

If you like "Floating Vibes", you'll enjoy the rest of Astro Coast. The album is thoroughly pleasant if not consistent, but never bereft of variance. Don't like "Fast Jabroni"? Perhaps you'll like "Slow Jabroni". And if not then, maybe the bouncy "Twin Peaks" is more your style, or the smooth "Harmonics", or the penultimate track, "Take It Easy". Don't like any of that? Eh, who needs ya.

In a way, Surfer Blood have released the perfect debut album. Astro Coast establishes a definite sound with some major songwriting potential at work, but never peaks early. There is much room for improvement and plenty to expand upon for future releases. This isn't the last we'll hear of Surfer Blood, and Astro Coast puts the band in a nice position to have an excellent career.

Surfer Blood - Astro Coast: B+

Spoon - Transference: B

"Written in Reverse"

For some reason, no matter how many times I try, I cannot get into Spoon. For all the critical acclaim that the band has received over the past decade, I have never really seen the Texas troupe as much more than an outfit content to spend a career coasting on an aura of cool that I'm not sure ever really existed. My only in-depth encounters with the band have been through hearing "I Turn My Camera On", a truly awful song, "The Underdog", actually quite a good song, and this album.

And any notion of Spoon being anything more than an adequate indie rock band was all but abandoned with the hearing of Transference, the band's fifth work. As I alluded to before, too much of Transference relies on the repetition of a few measures of music, and when those measures don't necessarily hold an ear for longer than a minute, Transference can feel like less of an insult and more of just a plain old disappointment.

But, lucky for Spoon, a good portion of the melodies crafted on Transference range from listenable to downright catchy. Songs like "Written in Reverse" and first single "Got Nuffin" prove to be pretty potent earworms. Nothing on Transference gets anywhere near outstanding, however, which only convinces me further that Spoon has just smirked unconvincingly past yet another album, high off a cloud of pure, unadulterated adequacy.

Spoon - Transference: B

These New Puritans - Hidden: B+

"Attack Music"

There is no doubt that Hidden is an album worth listening to, if for nothing more than the band's use of percussion. For eleven tracks, styles that span the spectrum of musicality are compiled, blended, and, most importantly, manipulated into something purely all its own. For that in itself, Jack Bennett and his group should be applauded.

However, Hidden has its major flaws, the majority of which lie in the fact that its songs, for however interesting they are, don't necessarily go anywhere. And for certain songs, that is fine, but any one that doesn't immediately spark one's interest starts showing some pretty conspicuous cracks once repetition sets in. "Drum Courts - Where the Corals Lie" is the best example of this problem. The song is six minutes of intricately-laid drum beats that begin to wear on one's patience once your realize that the lyrics debase to Barrett teasing you as to where the corals lie by the end of the track.

Despite its flaws, Hidden is a worthy listen; a collection of songs that will surely whet your pallet for music theory, but may be found to be lacking in overall songwriting clout.

These New Puritans - Hidden: B+

Freedy Johnston - Rain on the City: D

"Rain on the City"

You know that douschebag that walks around your town with an acoustic guitar and plays songs chemically engineered to be liked despite hackneyed lyrics and a penchant for cliched musicality? Bring him into your house, and he'll play on your piano some shitty ballad that's basically his acoustic work but (OMG) slower and (OMFG) even more vulnerable and cheesy? Yeah, well if that douschebag released an album, it would be Freedy Johnston's Rain on the City, one with almost as much uninspired, chick-baiting gobbledygook as that of a Jason Mraz concert. What might make Johnston worse than Mraz, though, is that Mraz knows that his music has little depth. It would appear that Johnston really believes this shit is inspiring people. And if you're somehow encapsulated by Rain on the City's depressing blandness, you have no one to blame but yourself.

Freedy Johnston - Rain on the City: D

Owen Pallett - Heartland: A-

"Lewis Takes Off His Shirt"

Owen Pallet can be an acquired taste, mostly due to his voice. Frail and often trembling, it can at times sound as if Owen is trying to converse with the melodies he creates rather than complimenting them. And when he harmonizes with himself, forget about it. The avalanche of avant garde is enough to take you out of the album, entirely. At least that's what happened to me upon first listen to certain parts of Heartland.

But look a little deeper, allow Pallett's voice to become familiar, and you will find Heartland to be quite an enriching experience. Not only is it an extremely well made album, it may be the best orchestrated album of all time. You see, Owen Pallett's MO is making music with little more in mind than a full orchestra and himself. This dynamic is reinforced by his live shows, which consist of himself, a violin, and a loop pedal recreating his albums' orchestral pieces one layer at a time. For Heartland, Pallett has the Czech Republic Philharmonic at his disposal, and he uses its musicians to their full potential. Songs like "Flare Gun" feature some breathtaking musicianship; songs where the orchestra is pushed to the forefront of the material rather than used as aural garnish.

Synthesizers, traditional pop percussion, and even bass can also be heard at various points of Heartland, all of which add another dimension to an otherwise wholly unique album. It also has a concept behind it (one I'm sure you're dying to know about) which, in context, clarifies some of Pallett's more bizarre lyrics. Heartland isn't to be missed as well made music for any modern music neophyte.

Owen Pallett - Heartland: A-