North Carolina’s American Aquarium has certainly made the most of their tenacious touring and effective self-promotion over the past few years. With their last two studio albums, Dances for the Lonely and Small Town Hymns possessing an irresistibly comfortable blend of country and rock, and the band’s live shows having gained a reputation for being not-to-miss events, it makes perfect sense that the five-piece, led by vocalist B.J. Barham would finally release a live album.

American Aquarium – Live in Raleigh has all the things a good live album should have. An effective mix of quality soundboard-recorded performances with the proper amount of audience whooping and hollering. It’s clear that American Aquarium chose to make proper use of their hometown advantage, knowing that a revved up crowd of familiar faces would give the recordings a punch and an urgency that wouldn’t be as lively anywhere else.

The strength of the songs is as clear here as they’ve been on the earlier albums. Barham’s inventive dirty talk about getting it on with the most addictive of lovers is certainly material for a fun live tune. The sheer southerness of Barham’s drawl makes songs that equate ferocious sex to a religious experience just go over perfectly.

The one album misstep – and it’s a big one for me, at least – is that when provided a chance to turn their heartbreak-turned-into-hatred anthem “I Hope He Breaks Your Heart” into a searing, sweaty show-ending catharsis that puts a satisfying finish to the band’s set, they take the easy way out and avoid singing a single note, only allowing the crowd to chant-along. Bummer, man.

Bands inviting the crowd to sing-along to the chorus of a beloved tune is nothing new, but for a band to take their best song, the show ending song, no less, and turn it into a full-length crowd-sized kumbaya moment is odd. To take away Barham’s drunken angst and force that makes the studio version of the chorus so powerful is a crime. Sure, bands love hearing their songs sung back to them by adoring fans. No one wants to rob them of a couple of lines worth of that glory, but for the whole damn song? Imagine the Drive By Truckers not singing a word to “Let There be Rock”, or the Old 97′s letting only the crowd sing to “Timebomb,” and you get the picture.

Regardless of that less-than-satisfactory ending, the rest of the album is certainly one that deserves the attention of any long-time fan, and will provide newcomers a great sampler introduction into the work of American Aquarium. Country rock isn’t anything new these days. But a bands such as American Aquarium that uses energy, clever writing and and an ability to play in a way that seems to force ears to keep listening will always be in demand.

There aren’t many voices out there that are fair or worthy companions to the singular, sultry and smokey groan of Lucinda Williams. The California-dwelling Walter Rose released Cast Your Stone last month, and while it’s a solid album to be sure, it’s tough to deny the magic this song has. Want proof of said magic? As the hypnotic song nears its end, watch your finger veer ever closer to your repeat button, or to your mouse in order to click “play” again. It’s magic, don’t fight it. let it do what it does.

As great as the grit of Williams and the rasp of Rose’s vocals are together, the aforementioned hypnotic nature of the tune may be most attributed to the resplendent steel work of Eric Heywood, an accomplished vet in his own right.

OK, OK, enough chit-chat, I know. Let’s just get to it, right? well, get to clicking below and let the magic happen.

Most of the time, a band with a gimmick is more gimmick than band. Hokey, jokey one-hit wonders litter our memories like so many bumper stickers on a hippies VW Van. Sometimes – just sometimes – a gimmick is worth more than a disposable three minutes of our time.

Austin’s The Possum Posse, a self-described “sardonic honky-tonk/bluegrass band” is an act that has likely gained momentum thanks to their hilarious narrations of some old movie footage, but if you listen closely, this is a roots band that knows how to get things appropriately stomping on the front porch.

Take a look at the “Guy On a Buffalo” videos here. It’s tough to not see this outfit as a redneck Mystery Science Theater 3000 that traveled back in time to make fun of frontier folk and not merely cheesy B-movies from the 60′s and 70′s. Also, it takes extra talent to make such literal narration of the events unfolding on the film funnier than any jokes in reference to the actions on-screen are.

We here at Twangville get to hear tons of great music. We share as much of it as we can with you and just hope that you like it as much or more than we do.

On a personal note, in the past year or so, I’ve had a hard time getting as excited about the artists that dwell in our ever-widening arena of Twang-related performers. Not sure why it is, really. There have been some fine albums come out, but I have to say, the majority of albums that have really captured my attention this year lean far more into the rock realm than in the roots realm. As a proud Texan, I’ve even had a hard time finding regional artists that grab me the way in which Lone Star heroes like Robert Earl Keen, Randy Rogers or Charlie Robison have done pretty easily over the past decade.

Hell, Gillian Welch’s new, universally-adored album hasn’t captivated me in near the manner that it has other fans and critics. Not even close, actually.

Thankfully, a few recent arrivals, as well as a few future releases, have helped lure me from my existential roots funk. If you’re like me and have felt as though this might be a slightly off year thus far, let these help you find your way back into the sweaty, grimey embrace of all that is Twang…

HOPE FOR THE MAINSTREAM - Sunny Sweeney, Concrete ~
I’ll spare you the “this is what modern pop country needs” diatribe. Top 40 country is what it is and always what it has been, most likely. The plain fact is, this album is just plain good. Great even. Adult subject matter mixed with urgent, catchy arrangements inside of songs that are all-around well-crafted gems.

HOPE FOR TEXAS / RED-DIRT COUNTRY - Reckless Kelly,Good Luck & True Love ~
The vets from Austin are back. No concept, no agenda, just straight-forward Texas roots-rock that never aims to be enjoyed by only Texan frat-boys (a penchant that’s become an epidemic in these parts). You’d be hard-pressed to find a more reliably solid and enjoyable band anywhere.

HOPE FOR ALT-COUNTRY (OR WHATEVER) – The V-Roys, Sooner or Later AND The Old 97′s, The Grand Theatre Volume II ~
While The V-Roys collection is a fine retrospective and the latest from The Old 97′s is a vibrant gathering of freshly rocked tunes, both bands helped usher in what we now call “Alt-Country,” and these albums prove that sometimes, you gotta just leave the heavy lifting to the big-boys. Young hipsters from Brooklyn that want to be country slackers, take note: These two records show you that navel-gazing, token Johnny Cash shout-outs and dirty t-shirts aren’t substitutes for giving a damn and writing songs that people want to truly listen to every bit as much as they want to bang their head to also.

HOPE FOR THE FUTURE OF ROOTS FOLK - Robert Ellis, Photographs AND Levi Lowery, I Confess I Was a Fool AND Gaston Light, Peel ~
Three young artists that traverse the broad scope of folk, roots and overall twanginess as well as anyone in their demo. Ellis whispers his songs in a sparse manner that demands the focus of the listener and reveals a maturity beyond his 22 years. Lowery, fresh off of a short stint as leader for the now-defunct Cadillac Sky takes his bluegrass chops and blends it with his own humor, vulnerability and feel for sounds that transcend simple unplugged roots tunes. Gaston Light, from Dallas, is the brainchild of 22 year-old Jason Corcoran. Where Ellis and Lowery navigate the line of folk and country, Gaston Light goes from that traditional sonic point and speeds towards a garage-rock rowdiness that never detracts from his sharp writing and keen sense for what just sounds good.

Chicago-based four-piece Maps & Atlases aren’t a math-rock band. O.K., good, we’ve got that out of the way now.

Sure, there are some rather math-y elements to the band’s indie-folk informed sound, but not to the extent where those intricacies define their overall sonic contributions in the way that many would have one believe. While Radiohead comparisons aren’t terribly appropriate from a strict, musical perspective, they certainly are from a philosophical one. As evidenced on the band’s last album Perch Patchwork (released last year from Barsuk), lead singer Dave Davison and crew wield an enviable and rare talent for making the experimental feel anything but.

When the unexpected surprises rather than shocks, the result is something akin to the opening of a door that introduces the unfamiliar in scenarios that feel just comfortable enough to not only keep one listening, but to have one fully immerse themselves in a sonic that hadn’t been a primary part of their musical diet in the past. So, it’s really not a shock to learn that such craftsmanship is a point of pride for the band.

We recently spoke to Davison about the band’s approachable, yet experimental vision, dream journals and why art school is so musical.

Art school seems to be a place where so many band members meet for the first time. Was it easy to pick out the “music people,” when you’re there, or did you have to dig a little?
There were a lot of interesting and talented people at Columbia College, but since none of us were music majors it wasn’t as obvious who the other musicians were. Luckily I didn’t have to dig too much as Erin was working at a record store with one of my friends and I was introduced to the rest of the band with little effort on my behalf (laughing).

Your band successfully avoids easy labeling with your varied sound and dynamic style and eye for detail. It’s got to sting a little when fans or critics slap a simple label like “math-rock” on there and don’t dig any deeper, right?
I think that most bands feel uncomfortable with labels, but we kind of just try to do our own thing and not get too caught up in genres or get bent out of shape by being labeled. A lot of times I think people are just trying to provide a cultural context for the music, which is understandable.

Perch Patchwork is obviously an album with a fuller-sounding sonic than that of your EPs. I get the impression that prepping and recording a full album made you all want to spread your wings and get a little crazy, musically. Am I close, or is that just me making that up?
I think that you’re right! We wanted to make an album that had a larger sonic scope and we wanted to try using different instruments as they were appropriate to any given part or song.

O.K., so I’m not crazy then, good. As you were writing and arranging the record, how much thought was given to replicating the songs in a live setting, once you began to tour?
We really wanted to go into it without the live show in mind and to just focus on the songs and mood of each part. Working with Jason Cupp as a producer was really fantastic and he opened up so many exciting possibilities for the record itself.

Your lyrics possess a tremendous amount of whimsy. Any chance you’re keeping a dream journal and drawing from that when you write?
I should! We have a few dream inspired lyrics, but I always forget my dreams quickly, so it would be pretty interesting to document them and look for patterns.

From what I’ve read, you seem to place a lot of importance on making your music accessible, while still feeling distinct from other forms of music. These days, it seems as though that distinction flies in the face of what most consider pop. What elements of your music do you consider to be “pop-accessible”?
I think that while we all appreciate experimental music, we all grew up and are typically most inspired by songs that are in the pop format. I also think that part of it is that we want to make music that people can connect to and identify with, which I think is ultimately the goal of pop music.

A few months ago, we took an initial look at the latest record from Hayes Carll, KMAG YOYO (And Other American Stories), and decided that yes, it was worth having and was indeed a good record, but wasn’t the greatest record of Carll’s young career.

Well, a few months later, those feelings haven’t necessarily changed, but, what is interesting is the way that the record seems better now that the year is closer to its end than to its beginning, as was the case when the album saw its release. The fact is, there aren’t many storytellers like Carll out there. Plain and simple. Perhaps (for me, at least), this record wasn’t meant to explode in my speakers upon the first few listens, but to slowly burn itself into the soundtrack of my 2011. If in fact that’s the case, then consider that mission accomplished.

For the uninitiated, Carll is also becoming quite the video star. His new video for “Another Like You” is as funny and well-concieved a clip as your likely to view all year (See below).

Also, let’s do this. Our friends at Filter Magazine and Lost Highway records have been kind enough to offer Twangville resdents a shot at winning a VINYL COPY of KMAG YOYO. All you have to do is leave a comment below and we’ll draw names on Thursday morning. Good luck!

UPDATE: A winner has been chosen and contacted. Congrats and enjoy your album!

By now, surely it’s no secret that country and punk go together about as good as peanut butter and chocolate. And typically, when these two classic American forms of music are welded together, the result seems to resemble a harder, thrashing product.

Of course, the overall ethos attached to artists that practice either style in their pure forms are very closely connected and often times, that’s what comes through the strongest, even more than the actual musical symbiosis.

Nick 13, a country crooner specializing in the celestial, rockabilly cosmos that screams “California Country” also knows his way around a punk stage. As leader of the so-called Psychobilly band Tiger Army, out of Berkeley, Nick 13 has recently released a self-titled solo album that goes well beyond the standard acoustic-folk records that many punk lead men release when they take a break from their main gig. Nick 13 has assured anyone that’s asked that indeed, Tiger Army, a band that’s a veteran of the Warped Tour, isn’t finished, even though he’s dabbling in another musical pool these days.

With a look that’s properly all tatted-up, Nick 13′s brand of barroom Bakersfield country is nothing short of pure enjoyment. Throughout the album, the songs possess the urgency of an artist truly appreciating the medium he has chosen and grasps the history of the sound and not the trendiness that has clouded its present and future.

Audio Download: Nick 13, “All Alone”

OK, look. It’s not that I’m unaccustomed to gushing over a record I really love here on Twangville, it’s just that I try and at least tell you why it is that I feel a record is so gush-worthy, when called for.

In the case of Israel Nash Gripka’s latest, Barn Doors & Concrete Floors, I really can’t do that. Simply put: It’s as close to a perfect folk-y country-rock record as your likely to hear all freaking year long. Sweeping and lush, there really isn’t one track on here worth skipping. Not even close.

It’s a wonderfully cohesive collection that can have you either sinking into the sonic of it all, or focusing on Gripka’s honest, yet poetic writing.

Again, sorry. I know this is a cop-out, and I’ll take the heat for it, but I dont know what else I can say other than check out the video below and go get the album.

Let’s get this much out of the way: Everyone’s right about the new Fleet Foxes album, Helplessness Blues (Sub Pop). It’s astonishing.

Sorry. It’s a safe bet that many out there were hoping the gentle, bearded, harmonizing folkies form the Northwest would fall flat on their nature loving faces. But, alas, they stand triumphantly, even more so than they did after beautifully signaling their arrival a couple of years ago with their debut LP.

We’re not sure that we’re going to say anything here that hasn’t been said in a million other areas, but still, Robin Pecknold and crew have yet again made harmonic, English-style folk so darn accessible. And in the cases of the title track and the album closing “Grown Ocean,” they’ve made it sweeping and anthemic, a feat that fellow, critically lauded retro-folk rockers Midlake weren’t able to accomplish last year when they hit the critical and commercial skids of ambivalence with their impressive, but far-too-cumbersome-for-mass-consumption, The Courage of Others.

The opening lyrics of the title track are simple, but profoundly telling. “I was raised up believing I was somehow unique” is shortly followed by “And now after some thinking, I’d say I would rather be a functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me.”

Such sentiment suggests this is an album of growth, regardless of whether the sound itself has progressed or not. The sound is still lush and pastoral, and Pecknold’s penetrating voice still resonantes in a way that soars naturally above the arrangements, as if to imitate one of the snowflakes he sings about in the title track. But the overall product is quite a bit more mature.

Perhaps some experimentantion with electronica, or moving into a more striaght-forward rock direction lie just beyond the horizon for this group, who knows, it wouldn’t be the first time an buzzed-about indie group flexed their mercurial muscle to bug their label bosses. But by building upon their current strengths – the very ones that made so many look forward to this new album in the first place – the band showcased a great deal of restrained maturity by sticking to their sonic guns without vaulting themselves into self-indulgent, or self-parodying terrain.

English Folkster Bobby Long, the man with a name that (to me, at least) recalls more baseball and apple pie than London Bridge and Boddington’s, is back with an album that, at first blush, seems like a relatively stright-forward folk record, A Winter Tale.

Sure, the album’s title has a certain Stratford-on-Avon feel to it, but this record isn’t your typical, acoustically-based English folkie record. In the singer-songwriter vein of Josh Ritter, Long manages to uncover the nuances that typically live inside the folk-realm, but move well-past such boundaries. Blues numbers, mixed with tunes that are worthy of dance floor country-waltzin’ fit right in with a few songs that are fully plugged-in and rocking. Perhaps such shouldnt be surprising, given that this is an ATO Records release, home to soncially felxible artists such as Danny Barnes, Dawes, My Morning Jacket and Brendan Benson.

All of the various styles of arrangements are delivered with a robustly raspy vocal that’s naturally soulful and not forcefully overwrought. It’s a smokey sound that belies Long’s still relatively young age.

Even the lyrical themes, of which love in its various forms is unsurprisingly the dominant variable, have a maturity that completely steers clear of late night diary entries that often smother the growing songwriter.

Simply put: Bobby Long’s A Winter Tale is a story you need to hear.