To call Duluth, Minnesota indie rock trio Low "eclectic" or "minimalist" would probably be considered a compliment to the group. Supposed pioneers of the much maligned (by the band, at least) "slowcore" genre, with the release of Drums and Guns, their eighth studio album, they've produced a piece of work that lives up to those labels. The first half of the album is a percussion spree, which allows frontman Alan Sparhawk's gentle voice, coupled with drummer/vocalist Mimi Parker's soft harmonies, to stand out in spite of the low volume. The album's second half is a bit heavier instrumentally (relatively speaking), but retains the quiet charm that makes the album so enjoyable. Drums and Guns is a different kind of album for most, but, eclectic or no, it's still quite good. [www.chairkickers.com]

It may be unfair to say that Exit Clov’s gimmick is that they're fronted by two cute Asian sisters. Whether gimmick is the correct word or not, however, it is certainly beyond debate that the Hsu (pronounced shoe) sisters are the most noticeable and appealing element of the band. Their vocals are sweet, cool and unaffected---which has drawn comparisons to Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadier. Unfortunately, their synthy-pop confections, though solid, are somewhat dull and uninspired, which could leave casual listeners bored. It's a shame, really, since the band does have its charms. Their lyrics can be clever and their interests stray way off the beaten path. For example, one wouldn’t expect Exit Clov (which, by the way, gets its name from a stage direction in Samuel Beckett’s 1957 play, Endgame) to use their unassuming ditties to ruminate on issues of the Cold War. But ruminate they do, as on the band’s catchiest song, “MK Ultra”---the code name for the CIA’s program to use mind control. On “Violent Berries”, the girls sing of post-Cold War malaise, and on “Communist BBQ” they sing of the neo-socialist poster-boy, Hugo Chavez: “50 years have brought us to this commie BBQ so quit yer Stalin, you know the time is Mao”. Other songs innocuously dabble with the Middle East and Israel (“Moving Gaza”), local music scenes (“D.I.Y.”), and (“Beast Simone”), a song which may or may not be about Simone de Beavoir. If Exit Clov’s music was as interesting as their lyrics are, the band could easily fill an entire LP: Respond Respond” is just shy of twenty-two minutes (not counting the self-indulgent reprise of “Beast Simone” that appears minutes after the record’s end) ---- almost short enough to keep the cracks from showing. [www.exitclov.com]

The best deal since 2005’s 3-disc release of B-sides and Rarities, this 2 CD/2 DVD set of material from 2004’s European tour (one of the DVDs is actually the 2003 Hammersmith Apollo concert) finds Nick Cave possessed once again by the haunted fury of the pre-Good Son era. 2003’s Nocturama was the dullest release of Cave’s career, and the concert representing it here is a telling contrast to the November 11th, 2004 concert at London’s Brixton Academy on the accompanying DVD. Part of the reason for the fall and resurrection lies in Cave’s return to collaborating with a band rather than using them to orchestrate what were essentially solo projects. His failure in 2003 to retool the band into a collaborative unit finally led to the departure of Blixa Bargeld, which brought Cave out of his solo trance and back into the slashing vitality of his early Bad Seed days. This resulted in the dual release in 2004 of Abattoir Blues and The Lyre of Orpheus, both of which contained Cave’s most exciting work, both lyrically and musically, since 1992’s Tender Prey. As we can now hear, since he did not tour the States at this point, the live shows were even better than the albums. The two CDs offer highlights from the European tour, including versions of classics such as “Red Right Hand” and “Stagger Lee” that are even more terrifying than the originals, and a dedication of “The Weeping Song” to Bargeld that cannot work without the former band mate’s vocal, but is affecting nonetheless. [www.nickcaveandthebadseeds.com]

It's not easy to fit twenty-nine people in a sound booth, let alone keep them in your band. MC Hammer can attest to how fast things can get out of control once you start becoming a little too inclusive. But for the Swedish act I'm From Barcelona, there is strength in numbers. So it is completely appropriate that the band's newest offering is titled Let Me Introduce My Friends -- there are nearly three dozen of them to meet! And for such a mad dash of instrumentation, it's surprisingly coherent. The songs are tightly constructed, not to mention quite catchy. Band leader Emanuel Lundgren blends American acoustic pop with a full line-up of global influences -- even though the ABBA / Ace of Bass vibe is conspicuously absent. The stronger takes on the record include the opener "Oversleeping" and "This Boy," which features a guest spot by Lonely Dear. But the whole record is worth a listen. It's like gazing into a really freaky Swedish kaleidoscope --with twenty-nine new pals! [www.imfrombarcelona.com]

The DC punk scene may have dwindled, but it's far from completely dead. With the release of Emergencies, Olympia seeks to prove exactly that. With raw production and solid guitar and vocal work, the band creates a record that works from beginning to end. It's not really anything incredible or new, but if you are a fan of punk with an edge, you will probably dig tunes like "Bastogne," "Even Rome Had Sewers," and "Chorus! Chorus! Chorus!." [www.olympiaband.com]

So here’s the problem with guitar fills: when they sound good, they add immeasurable appeal to their designated riffs, but when they’re ugly, they’re beyond obnoxious. It’s the same problem with vocal harmonies, and Le Weekender borders on Amelie: The Musical more than once, which in a just world would be worth at least ten years in prison. But it’s all pretty standard guitar rock fare, and when it works, like on “Les Yeux Grands Sauvent Le Monde,” it’s the reason why repeat-one was built into iPods. The Kinks deserve mention here, because all melody-based guitar bands bear comparison to them, but beyond that, there are traces worth following here, if you can stomach fifty melodies that don’t ever click. [www.lessansculottes.com]

With obvious influences like Say Anything... and Saves The Day shining through, there are actually quite a few likeable things about prog rock band Weatherbox's debut LP, American Art. That being said, however this is a difficult album to get a hold of. Lead singer Brian Warren's Bemis-like mixture of mediocre singing and yelling are a bit grating at times, which brings what might be an otherwise enjoyable album down. The music is strong pretty much throughout, but the musical influences (Kaddisfly, for instance) don't always seem to match Warren's vocals. When its all over, I wouldn't say that American Art is a bad album; its just not for me. [www.myspace.com]

When the much-beloved Cibo Matto broke up in 2001, band mate Yuka Honda reportedly explained that, “We felt the need to move to the next step… Things just need to grow out of things sometimes." For main-Cibo, Miho Hatori, this impulse to change appears to be on prominent display. After all, she did name her first proper solo record, Ecdysis -- that being the process of casting off a shell or skin by insects, snakes, or crustaceans -- but thankfully for Cibo Matto fans, Hatori didn’t shed too much of her style. On Ecdysis she allows the world to peer into the hidden world of her daydreams and obsessions: from insects to androids, ecological degradation to Amazon warriors, and to the nature of change itself. All this is woven around beautifully subtle and exotic beats and, of course, her famously child-like and simultaneously sexy voice. All these songs are just as good and could easily have been featured on Cibo Matto’s first record, Viva! La Woman. But for all of Ecdysis’ day-dreamy subject matter, it still carries an air of seriousness. The album never gets flat-out wacky, unlike either Cibo Matto offering. There are no “Beef Jerky”, “Know Your Chicken” or “Sci-Fi Wasabi” on this record to break it up and keep it from being suitable listening for chi-chi hair salons and spas. It was that very sonic versatility which made Ms. Hatori and Cibo Matto so interesting in the first place. Hopefully she hasn’t shed that element forever. [www.mihohatori.com]

Oh, intellectual sophistication. Note the lack of exclamation points or emotional mores; there is mood, but it’s detached, intelligent, a companion piece to late night poetry sessions, or a French professor’s automated delivery of deadpan prose on Guy Debord and Western capitalist alienation. But Air are far too concerned with their silk bathrobes and cigarette holders to bother injecting their songs with any kind of movement, so if you aren’t digging the intro keyboard fills and Harry Potter sparkle of, say, “Once Upon a Time,” then toss it out. “Photograph” on the other hand, rejects the band’s supercilious prerequisite and goes all pretty, sacrificing mad promo cred by being the album’s best song. Here’s the problem with Pocket Symphony; it’s got the cold, distant, emotionlessly atmospheric fog to smother the thirteenth floor studio apartment sans furniture it was clearly conceived in, but too many times it delves into bizarrely affable studio effects, giving the album the feel of incongruent fantasy that does little to extend its ethereal intelligence. They also stick Jarvis Cocker in the least provocative role the poor man has ever been forced to endure. It all leads to an album that’s far too impressed with it’s own lack of need to impress, and ends up being less than impressive. Good for a quick romp maybe, but if you’ve got the Eurorail pass, I’m sure the Arctic Monkeys are drinking Sam Adams somewhere in Sheffield. [www.intairnet.com]

“Long Before Rock and Roll,” the first single off Mando Diao’s Ode to Ochrasy, is included twice on this, its self-titled EP; once as it normally is on the album from which it was spawned, and then again as a live recording. It’s a decent song, thoroughly inducing the right amount of white British boy faux-dancing to essentially excuse the blatant Libertines and Franz Ferdinand rips. As for the other tracks, “Popovic” sticks an electric riff over an acoustic rhythm, with mildly sexy results, “Cinderella” employs a loud voice over loud guitars and goes for the old crescendo before the chorus bit, and “Chet Baker” is a one-string acoustic piece somebody wrote on the bus on the way back to the hotel. Of course none of this matters at all, because everybody is here for the live show, which manages to make the Arctic Monkeys guitar bit sound threatening and vitalized, and when it’s shouted into a microphone, “Long before rock and roll!” sounds like the infallible word of God. Ask him to please bless lo-fidelity and stack amps. [www.mando-diao.com]

On House of Cards, the first of 4 EPs Illinois quartet Shipwreck has promised over a 16-month span (number 2, Walk in the Woods, has since been released), they prove the mini record might be the way to go. They unleash crunchy guitars, infectious hooks, and energetic choruses similar to Kaiser Chiefs, but their atmospheric, dreamy sound goes way beyond. The title-track opener is a foot-tapping wall of driving guitar, while “Atlantic” wonderfully recalls Radiohead’s “Subterranean Homesick Alien” in both texture and supernatural theme. Shipwreck effortlessly flows from dark to beautiful and packs a tight sound well beyond their years. Perhaps they’ve discovered it’s wiser to focus on a few great tracks at a time as opposed to hastily throwing together an album loaded with filler. [www.shipwreckband.com]

Jefrey Siler of Athens, Georgia-based Clemente is one of those songwriters who can get away with using music solely as a vehicle for introspective storytelling and still hold your attention. Singing his literate lyrics in the conversational style of solemn troubadours like Jay Farrar and Damien Rice, they musically sound like an un-cheesy and not-so-catchy Barenaked Ladies. These lyrics save ...Whilst Honey Hums, as they describe a self-loathing, anti-Rockwellian world in which relationships are obviously destructive. Issues with brethren are a common theme, especially prevalent during “Ambulance Driver on Holiday Nights,” where he blatantly sings, “I’m haunted by family life.” It’s as heartfelt and well-written a record as you’ll find; unfortunately, heartfelt doesn’t always equal exciting. [www.yellowmeansinfection.com]

No longer the land of ABBA and, uggh, Ace of Base, Northern Europe is becoming an alt-music powerhouse. Mew (Denmark), Ane Brun (Norway), Sigur Ros (Iceland), Loney, and Dear (Sweden), they're all making their marks in these great states of America. Astrid Swan, a young Finnish lass, starts strong with her debut album, Poverina. The immediate comparison? A young Tori Amos, what with her smart poetic lyrics, her beguiling piano and her strong femininity, with splashes of Regina Spektor thrown in as well. There are eleven tracks on this new minty fresh album, but with only a little more than a half hour of music be prepared to hit the repeat button on your CD player. Pitch those Roxette albums as well, for Astrid's LP will not be her swan song. [www.astridswan.com]

After years of archival silence, Neil Young has plundered the vaults for the second time in less than six months with Live at Massey Hall 1971. Recorded during a stop on a solo tour in his native Toronto on January 19, 1971, Massey Hall finds Young performing songs that were mostly unheard at the time. He even comically adds, “I’ve written so many new ones I can’t think of what else to do” before the Canada-themed “Journey Through The Past.” There’s a quiet-storm sensation to the relaxed pace of the record. Electric barnburners such as “Cowgirl in the Sand” and “Down by the River” are stripped down, and Young plays piano on nearly half the album, indicating the musical place he occupied between 1970’s After the Gold Rush and the yet-to-be released Harvest. The medley of an early version of “A Man Needs a Maid” segueing into a loose, piano-based “Heart of Gold” is more than interesting, but it’s “Bad Fog of Loneliness” and “Dance Dance Dance” that are worth the price of admission alone, as these gems have never officially seen the light of day on a Young album. A scorching “Ohio” proves even more urgent by his lonesome yearning and Young’s banter between songs, such as his explanation of the origin of “Old Man,” sheds light onto a shy kid who was just hitting his creative stride. While there are many more songs here than the recently released Live at the Fillmore East, Young has to be docked for putting out a show that is widely circulated in soundboard form. Young’s long-time producer, David Briggs, originally intended Massey Hall to be released before Harvest, but Young was never willing to listen to it and the tapes fell into the hands of fans, putting a rift into the musician-producer relationship. Briggs has since passed, and Young decided to give the tapes a shot. He became floored with what he heard. Although many are familiar with this show, Mr. Young’s fans should remember any archival release (with the exception of the forgettable 80s) is a good one, and there is apparently quite a bit more on the way. [www.neilyoung.com]

If at first you don’t succeed, try again. While the original lineup of Dinosaur Jr. never was able to capitalize fully on the breakthrough of alternative music (in part because they parted ways in 1989 and were essentially the J. Mascis Band moving forward), they returned in 2005 to re-bring the noise to the masses. Although the mainstream has never really showed up, a new generation of listeners has been able to experience an icon of post-punk shattering their eardrums. Now, the improbable has happened: Dinosaur Jr. is releasing Beyond, their first new material together in almost 20 years. For those who don’t know, this band releasing a new record in 2007 is almost as likely as the Pixies getting back together. Well, that happened, and both have been tearing it up onstage, with Dinosaur the only one to put out new music. Truth be told, this is a pretty badass record. It’s not nearly as ragged as the gem that was You’re Living All Over Me, but it shows their development as musicians without sacrificing the volume. Abandoning that early-era dynamic a long time ago, Beyond is how the mid-90s releases would have sounded had Murph and Lou Barlow been playing on them. What’s more, Mascis proves to be in his finest form in years and goes well above simply shredding - he’s playing monstrous walls of sound around tight, melodic songs. Don’t be swayed by the word “melodic,” though. This is a huge guitar album with solos and riffs galore. Since there’s no telling when this thing might implode, fans of Dinosaur Jr., should be ecstatic they’ve gotten more from the band than they ever could have dreamed. And it’s actually a reunion record that rocks. [www.dinosaurjr.com]

Radical Face is the brainchild of Ben Cooper, also of indie duo Electric President. On Ghost, Cooper takes the delicate folk sound of an Elliott Smith or Sam Beam and filters it through a set of more atmospheric and intricate arrangements. The album has a largely seamless production style as several tracks flow continuously together to lend the project an epic/cinematic feeling, though it's an epic end achieved through minimalist means. Ghost begins in splendid fashion with airy opener "Asleep on a Train" fading into "Welcome Home." With beautiful instrumentation, a wonderful sense of momentum and a memorable, soaring chorus, the latter is one of the best tracks of the young year and on its own merits makes Ghost worth a listen. Cooper furthers a similar musical vision on standout tracks, "Let the River In", "Glory", "Wrapped in Piano Strings" and "Winter is Coming." A couple of songs late in the album lack the consistent radiance of earlier cuts, keeping the record from completely fulfilling the immense promise of its initial tracks. Yet Cooper is certainly a musician to keep an eye on; his tremendous capacity for maximizing the potential in a musical space and keen eye for detail make Ghost an album with a bounty of musical gifts to offer. [www.radicalface.com]

It might seem a bit strange at first for a Canadian band to be playing Americana-sounding music, but essentially that’s what Winnipeg-based Nathan is doing on their third album, Key Principles. While tapping into this tradition, one then realizes that the themes Nathan sings about on this record are universal, and then the notion of “Canadian Americana” (Canadiana?) isn’t too much of a stretch. Lead vocalist Keri Latimer’s Jenny Lewis-esque voice takes this set in an appealing direction, particularly on the key tracks “Terrible Way to See Omaha” and “Let Them Look.” While not as haunting as their American counterparts, Nathan takes the Americana tradition and makes it their own. [www.nathanmusic.ca]

The Athens, Georgia based quintet The Winter Sounds come roaring out of the gate on their latest LP Porcelain Empire. Opening with the catchy break up anthem “Windy City Nights, which deftly mixes punk-like rhythms with melodic hooks, the song sticks in your mind not only after you’re done with listening to it, but after you’re done with the album itself. That’s not to say that song hogs the album, however, for there are plenty of other great tracks, such as “Sound Forged Like Spine” and the closer “The Tournament of Getting Older.” To top it all off, vocalist Patrick Keenan imbues each track with just the right amount of sincerity and honesty, making this a must-hear debut. [www.thewintersounds.com]

More than 30 years after their implosion and nearly just as long since everyone thought they’d be dead, The Stooges return with their original lineup (Mike Watt replaces the late Dave Alexander on bass) for an album that can be commended for its effort, not necessarily its content. The brothers Ron and Scott Asheton deliver high-octane rock and roll without letting go of the gas, but Iggy Pop’s voice is missing a certain fire and his elementary lyrics lack substance and prevent The Weirdness from ever properly taking off. Ron’s guitar playing is stellar, but it also won’t slay you and leave you bleeding like his work on Fun House or their self-titled debut. No one was expecting re-creations of those two records, but this incarnation of the band has been playing live together for a couple of years and they shouldn’t just be running through the motions. That said, everyone should be pleased they’re still nasty and haven’t “matured” into a late-age acoustic album or sonic experimentation. [www.myspace.com]

For a band that calls North Carolina home, The Rosebuds sure sound awfully British. On their third album, Night of the Furies, duo Ivan Howard and Kelly Crisp have evolved into a dance-rock force that combines the driving grooves of Depeche Mode and Duran Duran with the drama of Morrissey. Night of the Furies summons an endless supply of infectious melodies that erupt into anthemic choruses while simple hooks and beats prove irresistible and intriguing to even the staunchest of retro critics. Danceable yet moody, enticing in sound yet dark in theme, The Rosebuds have pulled themselves out of the sophomore slump that was Birds Make Good Neighbors to make the record The Rapture and South wish they could. [www.therosebuds.com]