Mid/Air, their second album, is clearly the work of sparklers, of inspired, disciplined musical artists who were lit up in the studio and radiating in all directions.

Sparrow has made this an utterly charming and sweetly sincere recording that likely could never have been made in the United States.

It's got that sound—that staggering, powerful combination of primal R'n'R ingredients exemplifying the form at its most artfully transcendent.

While One Lone Car's musical aptitude is validated by an unnerving blend of edgy guitar hooks, bold bass, and mechanical drumming, their talent is broadened by another gift: smart, oppressing, honest lyrics.

This whole album seems to be about that certain kind of day, with Mason recalling people and events, trying to feel a connection to life when it's clearly difficult.

I was spellbound by the new album by Rachel Taylor Brown, a Portland, Ore., singer/songwriter who's a true original.

The difference between Irish and American crowds? The Irish will be a little bit drunker.

Literate rocker Matt Pond of matt pond PA talks about his music, happiness and cops in Florida

If you're going to start with a bang you might as well end with a bang, and Billy Talent do just that.

You pretty much know what you're in for after the astoundingly good first track, "Lost Verses," which is eight or so minutes long but is elegant in a way that is hard to describe.

In the album opener, Gautreau's voice sounds like a downtrodden Morrissey on a lazy day off, timidly bellowing personal thoughts through a tunnel of reverb.

Toby the Fugitive sounds like a post-hardcore band, a hybrid between hardcore punk and alternative rock.

Irony in rock 'n' roll is a tough feat to pull off but Sarandon makes it happen.

Simply having a low voice isn't necessarily impressive if nothing special is done with it.

Within the first few seconds of "Mister Jung Stuffed," the opening track on their Anti- debut Rabbit Habits, I knew I had been an idiot for not tracking them down sooner.

The set list alternates from fast-tempo flare ups of energy back to slow crooning that, quite honestly, leaves much to be desired.

The mix itself is smooth as silk, pairing forgotten 1970s disco relics with more current house tracks so seamlessly that you'd be hard-pressed to pick the vintage of most of the songs here.

You simply can't listen to "Just Like the Cold" without falling head over heels; it's that captivating.

The thing is I always find myself setting at the kitchen table; it's something of a superstition that if I don't sit there, it wouldn't work.

And who can forget the brilliant "Born Slippy" from the Trainspotting soundtrack?