Psychedelic Pill just might be Young's best since Rust Never Sleeps, though such superlatives are, of course, always debatable. What is not is the fact that it's his most '70s-sounding record since, well, the '70s! Caked in Crazy Horse squall and California harmonies, it's a passionate journey through Neil's nine lives; there's Canadian pride ("Born in Ontario"), the joys of hearing "Like a Rolling Stone" for the first time ("Twisted Road") and hippie rumination ("Walk Like a Giant"). Also, if you love when Neil goes long, Psychedelic Pill boasts four epics that break the eight-minute mark.
After setting the blues scene ablaze with a string of EPs, Gary Clark Jr. releases a full-length debut that makes good on his burgeoning reputation. What stands out is his ability to "re-combine" stylistic eras. On several cuts (including hard groovers "When My Train Pulls In" and "Bright Lights") he bleeds Stevie Ray Vaughan into The Black Keys. Meanwhile, when the fuzzy stomp of "Numb" crashes through the speakers, it's obvious the guy digs his psychedelic blues. But none of this should imply Clark lacks his own style; rather, the singer and guitarist is one sharp student of tradition.
Before its release, gossip abounded that Koi No Yokan would appeal to those fans waiting over a decade for Deftones to make White Pony II. But let's face it, that's never going to happen; no artist in their right mind would willingly return to the bummer vibes required to make such a brutal record. Yet what they do share is in the composition department, namely that unique blend of shoegaze atmospherics and grandiose prog moves. It's an aesthetic that works most effectively on the album's middle stretch: "Leathers," "Entombed," "Graphic Nature" and "Tempest."
Neither as stoner nor as hipster as they get pigeonholed, Austin's The Sword acknowledge metal's Sabbath and Thin Lizzy beginnings without sounding remotely retro. On their fourth album, a new drummer adds plenty of rock, skate, roll and bounce to the meaty riff duels; J.D. Cronise's multiplied singing can come off distanced, but lets up lines you'll remember in almost every song. Pick hits: Goddess epic "Cloak of Feathers"; matched dystopian-ecology eulogies "The Hidden Masters" (dirge) and "Dying Earth" (banger); staccato alien invasion "Execrator"; analog electro-blipped coda "Apocryphon."
Live At Hull 1970 captures the gig that went down the night after Live At Leeds was recorded (consequently, both contain similar song lists). Though it existed in bootleg form for decades, its first official release was as part of the Leeds 40th anniversary edition from 2010. This stand-alone version is a welcome addition to the band's catalog; more than a few Who fanatics believe these performances to be better than those found on the legendary Leeds set -- they're certainly more grungy and battering-ram brutal.
On their first album since Bill Clinton's first term, Seattle's grunge granddads mostly sound like they're trying to keep up with contemporary commercial rock. They're OK at it: generally midtempo and dreary, but with a decent drum pound and oft-Eastern-leaning guitar fills hinting at Zep or late-period Beatles, plus ambient parts and Chris Cornell bellowing gravel. "Black Saturday" and "Halfway There" are even kind of country. They get a bit adventurous in three longer tracks toward the end -- "Worse Dreams" has some Police in it. But only garagey quickie "Attrition" has much kick or crunch.
These Swedes meticulously re-create the exact late '60s moment when greaser rock became hippie rock -- complete with drawn-out dirges ("Slow Motion Countdown," "Hard Times Lovin'") that approximate the dullest parts of old Cream albums! "20/20 (Tunnel Vision)" is at least lounge-jazzy in a Doors way. But more compact punkers "Seven Seven" and "Goliath" remember their respective Raiders (circa "Kicks") and Chocolate Watchband roots; "Endless Night" is train-chugging Steppenwolfish biker blues. Now if only Joakim Nilsson's expressively macho throat could graduate beyond mere revivalist distance.
Kid opens this soundtrack to Detroit's urban-farming future with a Seger-boogie scoot called "Chickens in the Pen" and ends with three honky-tonk moves. Between, he throws caution to the wind: silly nu-metal, lonely Auto-Tuned ballad, lots of old-time Detroit rock 'n' roll, including a soul cover named for the city and two songs named for the music -- one a long list of oldies; the other about a trash-talker who sells his Midwestern soul for L.A. success. Two other standouts even count as political: an AC/DC riffer for soldiers, then a Mitch Ryder-ish frat-rocker tuned into bad American news.
Though Afterglow is far and away Black Country Communion's most confident and dynamic release to date, it reflects the outfit's increased reliance on the songwriting of Glenn Hughes. Unlike cofounder and guitarist Joe Bonamassa (who scaled back his contributions due to prior commitments), the iconic singer isn't nearly as beholden to traditional blues-rock. This means the album is significantly more eclectic and varied than its predecessors. There's epic balladry ("Afterglow," "The Circle"), The Who-inspired synth-bashers ("Midnight Sun") and even acoustic-flavored folk-rock ("The Giver").
Episode ¡Dos! in Green Day's 2012 trilogy is an even livelier party than its predecessor. The Cali punks merrily roll around in their roots like pigs in mud, bringing back some of that ol' juvenile humor (see the rather blunt "F*** Time") and Kinks-style garage rock (check out those guitar licks on "Wild One" and "Makeout Party"), as Billie Joe seethes and snarls like it's 1994, proving restless boredom ("Lazy Bones"), bad habits ("Nightlife") and girl woes ("Stray Heart") never go away with age. The party, however, ends on a poignant note with "Amy," a tribute to the late Ms. Winehouse.
Aborted recording sessions, cancelled concerts, throat surgery, the relentless Tyler-Perry feud -- it's amazing Aerosmith even wanted to make another album. Yet here they are, in 2012, with Music From Another Dimension! The record, though not as heavy, echoes 1997's Nine Lives in how it teeters between power-balladry ("Can't Stop Loving You," featuring Carrie Underwood) and classic rock 'n' roll ("Legendary Child"). There are also a lot of samples and sonic collage; the best are found on "Street Jesus," the kind of boogie-Beatles number the group has been cranking out since Rocks.
Come on, admit it: You like Coldplay and were probably just singing one of their songs in the shower. Don't be embarrassed; these guys are undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world, and on this set of select recordings from their Mylo Xyloto tour, they prove just why. "It's going to be a f*cking good one, boys!" yells Chris Martin. And from there, the set is stuffed with hits: "Yellow," "Viva La Vida," "Paradise" and "Clocks" are especially energized, while "Up in Flames" and "Fix You" are even more poignant in the live setting. Bonus: You get to hear Martin work on his French.
In an era of instant gratification and marketing overload, the fact that Harper has never before released a greatest hits package is rather amazing. Then again, By My Side isn't your garden variety retrospective. Curated by the artist himself, it's a craftily programmed collection of tunes highlighting his considerable talents as romantic balladeer. This approach makes complete sense, because let's face it: Harper is one of the real ladies' men among singer-songwriters. His tender introspection, raspy vocals and folk-soul swagger are aphrodisiacs every bit as potent as yohimbe and oysters.
Like many so-called "metalcore" or "melodic death metal" bands, this Massachusetts bunch doesn't have a lot of recognizable hardcore punk or death metal in their barrage, give or take Shadows Fall alumnus Philip Labonte's vomitous by-the-book bully-boy barking. He alternates or overlaps that with a higher-pitched sensitive-guy style, so basically it adds up to screamo. "Asking Too Much" gets a bit of '80s pop AOR in its pop-punk; "What If I Was Nothing" is a pleading ballad; "Intro" and "Calculating Loneliness" are tolerably fluttering instrumentals. None of it is particularly distinctive.
This first collection of hits from the contemporary hard rock big shots features no less than nine songs that reached No. 1, as well as three previously unreleased ones. Tracks like "When I'm Gone" and "It's Not My Time" put 3 Doors Down up there with Shinedown and Nickelback when it comes to the pop-rock payoff, while best song "Loser" sounds like a post-grunge version of Soundgarden. When the guitars are big and the hooks hit in, the urge to sing along practically becomes a biological imperative.
Of a Revolution perform their blend of acoustic funk, contemporary hard rock and Dave Matthews Band in a live setting. Combining a broad range of American and world styles, the band plays together as if they're telepathically linked, and the recording is nothing short of perfect. While most of O.A.R.'s songs are about finding meaning and acceptance, fighting adversity, and changing the world, everybody knows the most rewarding part is whenever Maryland-born singer Marc Roberge puts on a Jamaican accent.
Staind frontman Aaron Lewis first threw his hat into the country ring in 2011 with the single "Country Boy." It seems Lewis' deep growl is as equally suited to twanging guitars (of which there are plenty here) as the rocking cacophony Staind musters up. That Lewis wrote or co-wrote all but one of these songs shows he is in tune with what's going on in contemporary country. "Party in Hell" is a lament to mistakes made in a hard life, while "Lessons Learned" is a heartfelt reminder to stop and smell the roses. Other highlights include "Granddaddy's Gun," "Anywhere But Here" and "The Road."
With Robert Hunter providing lyrics (as he did for The Grateful Dead back in the day), a fantastic Mississippi John Hurt cover to open things up, and Little Feat's characteristically high-quality jammy blues rock, this 16th record marks the band's return to chicken-related album titles (Dixie Chicken, released in 1973, is considered one of their best). The playing is always impeccable, as is the recording, but it's the Dead-worthy bump of the title cut that folks who may have dismissed this modern configuration of Little Feat need to hear.
When Trey Anastasio isn't playing with either Phish or The New York Philharmonic, he's putting out solo records, of which Traveler is the ninth. Anastasio's own personal brand of radio-friendly prog rock, featuring superb keyboards and lyrics about the meaning of existence found through bike riding, evokes Phil Collins-era Genesis. He also recalls Talking Heads, circa Fear of Music and Remain in Light, on "The Land of Nod"; and "Pigtail" is as fun as anything by The Steve Miller Band.
All you need to know about this ninth album from the de facto masters of acoustic funkiness is that the first song's chorus is "Dance with your monkey pants on." Did monkeys start wearing pants? No matter, the idea is to get people on the dancefloor. Frivolity is the main objective here, and if Rusted Root weren't such damn good musicians, and if those drums didn't always sound nothing short of awesome, people would probably make fun of them a lot.
