Mark Lanegan’s addictions and inner turmoil are well documented throughout his catalogue. But one note of his brutal, weathered baritone will tell you everything you need to know about where he’s been. Blues Funeral—his first solo record since 2004’s Bubblegum—lays out a mix of stripped-down slow burners (“Bleeding Bloody Water,” “St. Louis Elegy”), hard-boiled dance beats (“Ode to Sad Disco”) and a touch of pop inspiration (“Quiver Syndrome”), sounding cleaner than Lanegan has for awhile. But there’s no softness here. Collaborations with Queens of the Stone Age’s Josh Homme, Lanegan’s fellow Gutter Twin Greg Dulli and original Red Hot Chili Peppers drummer Jack Irons inject a little more...

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Moving away from the aggressively all-encompassing wall of sound that comprised their first two albums, Scottish rockers The Twilight Sad have trimmed the fat for their latest release, No One Can Ever Know. Taking a page from ’80s Krautrock and shoegaze, they’ve pared down their massive sound to focus more tightly on ghostly keyboard riffs and the vocals of their unmistakable lead singer, James Graham. While a comparison to Morrissey might be easy, it’s not without merit as the mini runs and flourishes dramatically land Graham’s lyrical style right on the corner of Sad Bastard Boulevard. But that thick brogue remains of course, alongside enough cracks and breaks to assure the listener...

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The Big Pink made splashes all over the Brit rags with their single “Dominos” in 2009, leaving our Stateside ears ringing with its catchy chorus. Future This delivers the same formula, but does so with perhaps one too many tracks. The album fully breaks open on track four, “The Palace,” and takes a positive leap with “1313,” a song as uplifting as it is subversive (check out that distortion!). Overall, the anthemic attempt leaves The Big Pink sounding more like innocuous Britpop than the dream pop that originally perked ears. There are some gorgeous moments, like the gritty guitar on “Lose Your Mind,” and the noise in the mix is flawless thanks to the mixing by Alan Moulder (My Bloody...

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For A Different Kind of Fix, British foursome Bombay Bicycle Club continue on their journey to find a defining sound. Starting with post-rock, guitar-centric I Had the Blues But I Shook Them Loose, BBC then unplugged and went on a trip to folk town with the acoustic and doleful album Flaws. Here, Jack Steadman and company pick up their electric guitars and start plucking. From album-opener, “How Do You Swallow So Much Sleep,” the direction is set. Shivering snares and cymbals keep pace for the fluttering, melodic guitars that ride alongside Steadman’s spacey voice. Two standouts, “Beggars” and “Leave It,” are tunes fit for the space age that spans genres so easily that it leaves you...

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Air burst into existence at a time when the zeitgeist had been virtually designed to embrace them: their sexy, insouciant internationalism jived perfectly with a Wallpaper magazine generation sipping designer cocktails on sleek, optimistic furniture. Now re-contextualized within the grim realities of 2012, it’s hardly a wonder they’d be abandoning the present for the hopefulness of the Belle Époque, revisiting a classic 1902 French film as the motivation for this fascinating new project.

The original Le Voyage Dans La Lune is a black-and-white silent film of but 14 minutes in length. Yet Georges Méliès’ creation is considered an influential masterpiece of proto-sci-fi, inspired by the...

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Nada Surf have always had an ace in Matthew Caws’ voice. It’s as large and beautiful as a frozen lake, cold in tone but warming to observe. With his ongoing love of distant space lyrics and earth-bound melancholia, Nada Surf heat others by noting a universal sadness. Here, the voice bends and flits through minor chords and major ascents, electric-pop guitar riffs and flattened floor toms to create the majesty of cardboard castles. Every track is a perfect composition. Melodically, the band have an easy ability to pull on the heartstrings; harmonies bring a subtle sense of sadness, even under the bombastic (opener “Clear Eye Clouded Mind”). On “The Moon Is Calling,” Caws’ melody rolls to...

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In the three years since her debut record, Jessie Baylin, the Queen of Leon (Baylin is married to Kings of Leon drummer Nathan Followill), has switched her label and grown her songwriting. It’s apparent that the singer’s confidence and creative freedom have allowed her to showcase her talents through a variety of genres, all the while channeling her inner folk a la Dusty Springfield and Marianne Faithfull. Baylin also possesses a curious, soulful Winehouse-ian vibe in her delivery. Examples include the soothing, slow “Dancer” and the dreamier, poppier “Holiday.” Though she may not be as well known as her husband and famous family-in-law, Baylin’s sophomore effort is more natural and,...

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Like a dry drunk who just fell off the wagon, Guided By Voices are stumbling around and partying like it’s 1994 again. In fact, maybe even earlier: The indie icons’ latest album—a boozy blur of sloppy, out-of-key, ultra-lo-fi walls o’ sound—comes across as if it could’ve been their first. No doubt that’s because Bob Pollard wisely chose the band’s classic line-up (Alien Lanes, Bee Thousand) as the one to reassemble, and one of the band’s earliest recording garages as the place to hunker down in. As if diehards needed any more convincing, the mighty Tobin Sprout wrote six of the 21 songs on Let’s Go Eat the Factory. In classic GBV fashion, there are song fragments, like the flute-infused,...

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Time has not been kind to Billy Corgan. During the Pumpkins’ dominance between 1990 and 2000, he was (sometimes rightfully) labeled a tyrant, an opportunist and a megalomaniac. These labels still dog him. Of course, Captain Zero didn’t do himself any favors during the intervening years by reforming the band with only Jimmy Chamberlin. Or by going completely cray-cray by dating Jessica Simpson, writing songs for Hyundai and diving deep into the world of pro-wrestling. The end result is a caricatured vision of a bald-headed freak who now gets more press for his messy personal life than for his music.

But look past all that drama and distraction. During the ’90s, Corgan was also one of...

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Dive, the latest from sonic spelunker Scott Hansen, is rife with drippy synth lines that border on vagueness, barely holding their jelly-like shape as they coalesce atop relaxed but driving beats. A beautiful album with an amniotic vibe, Dive can be a bit repetitive. An album of electronic instrumentals should shift into gears we didn’t even know existed, so we marvel at the counterintuitive beauty of the machine. Each of Dive’s songs gel into one atmosphere rather than branching into the semi-organic variety of the best records. “Ascension” accomplishes just such a shift, lifting out of the terrestrial ocean, seaweed strands dangling, departing for outer space. Most of the songs might be...

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