Craig Finn has always had a reputation as an accomplished lyricist. In fact, he is as much of a poet as he is a Rock and Roll musician. His lyrics invoke an emotional connection that is evident as the crowd sings along at Hold Steady gigs. After all, this is the man who weaved the suicide of John Berryman into “Stuck Between Stations”. Not surprisingly, Clear Heart Full Eyes brings Finn’s poetic distinction to the forefront.

To be sure, the front man for Hold Steady has not forgotten the importance of the music. For this project, it tends to be more mellow and introspective, but is powerful none the less. My friend David, who has a daughter that is a budding musician at 13, recently made the point that musicians are sometimes far too serious and afraid to make people laugh. In fact, humor is a quality he is trying to encourage in the music of his daughter (Katie Deter). Humor has certainly never eluded Finn, as shown by the song, “New Friend Jesus”. He also invokes religious imagery often on Clear Heart Full Eyes. Consider this verse from “No Future”:

“I’ve been reading about the Calvary. The crucifixion still gets to me. I guess Golgotham meets the mount of execution. The best advice I got comes from ‘ol John Rotten. He said ‘God save the queen’ no future for you , no future for me”.

Finn is a modern day creative genius, and, Clear Heart Full Eyes is the perfect conduit to display his prodigious creativity.

When My Time Comes, Barnstar! (from the self-released C’Mon!)
I somehow missed this song when it was released on Dawes’ debut back in 2009. My bad. I’ve corrected that now thanks to the guys in Barnstar! Even better, they’ve taken an already great song and made it even greater. Even Dawes agrees.

Audio Stream: Barnstar!, “When My Time Comes”

Time Spent in LA, Dawes (from the ATO Records release Nothing Is Wrong)
The best songs do more than catch one’s ear, they create an experience that takes you away from where you are. The fact that this song is about Los Angeles misses the point. The melancholy of melody and lyric becomes a destination of its own. “You got that special kind of sadness, you got that tragic set of charms, that only comes from time spent in Los Angeles, makes me wanna wrap you in my arms.”

Audio Stream: Dawes, “Time Spent In Los Angeles”

More Like Them, Lydia Loveless (from the Bloodshot Records release Indestructible Machine)
If you had any doubts that Loveless was a free — and feisty — spirit, look no further than this song.

Why can’t I be more like them, the kind of people who feel sad when relationships end
Well honey I don’t want you now, but it’s not about him
Why can’t I be more like them

Audio Stream: Lydia Loveless, “More Like Them”

The Understanding, Jones Street Station
If you’re going to release only one song in a year, it had better be a good one. By that standard, this Brooklyn quintet doesn’t disappoint. What starts with some quiet harmonies and an acoustic guitar builds into a pop song of epic proportions.

Turn to a stranger, take her hand, then you’ll understand. Where are my friends who are lost and alone. May they find their way back home.

Audio Download: Jones Street Station, “The Understanding”

Mannequin Man, Kingsley Flood (from the self-released ep Colder Still)

I was born to be a mover, not a mannequin man
Sworn to shake the sugar, not like a mannequin man
I’ll be damn before you take me like a mannequin man

Audio Stream: Kingsley Flood, “Mannequin Man”

Daydrunk, Butch Walker and the Black Widows (from the Dangerbird Records release The Spade)
I went back and forth between this track and “Summer of ’89.” It was a photo finish to say the least. In typical Walker fashion, this song is a power pop slap in the face – loud, brash and totally awesome.

Audio Stream: Butch Walker and the Black Widows, “Day Drunk”

Stopping By, Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit (from the Lightning Rod Records release Here We Rest)
Isbell is at his best when he explores the thoughts and emotions of troubled characters. He has an innate ability to provide an honest portrayal that captures the tension in both lyric and music. This track is a prime example, the tale of a child making a surprise visit to an estranged father.

I think the best of me’s still standing in the doorway
Counting cars and counting days and counting years
I could say you made me go through life the hard way
But it might’ve been worse if you were here…

Audio Stream: Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit, “Stopping By”

No Easy Way Out, The Duke and the King (from the So Recordings release The Duke and the King)
I was first enchanted by the sense of wanderlust that permeates this song. Repeated listens, however, showcase the band’s impressively nuanced musicianship.

Audio Stream: The Duke and the King, “No Easy Way Out”

Guilty Girls, Buffalo Tom (from the Scrawny Records release Skins)
From the opening guitar riff to the final fade, the band impeccably combines sparkling harmonies with an edgy rock sound. This is the kind of song that was made to be played loud. And often.

Audio Stream: Buffalo Tom, “Guilty Girls”

Maybe, Paul Collica (from the self-released It’s Not Me, It’s You )
This is a great high-energy power pop song but that’s not the sole reason that it is on this list. Collica infuses the song with a sonic quality that should make many “top 40″ artists green with envy. All the more impressive, he wrote, performed and produced it entirely on his own.

Audio Download: Paul Collica, “Maybe”

Mason Jennings’ latest effort, Minnesota, is a lyrical romp with Jennings’ characteristic musical hooks that teeter on the edge of sappy but that work for him.  Every song on Minnesota is worth the listen.  The multi-instrumental Jennings opens with the subdued piano-based ballad “Bitter Heart” followed immediately with “Raindrops on the Kitchen Floor,” a retro Lovin’ Spoonful-like song that implants itself in the listener’s subconscious – an benign earworm. The excellent “Hearts Stop Beating” follows, which punctuates the album and establishes a pattern that basically alternates between ruminating folk tunes and uptempo rock numbers. The entire album has a retro feel, owing much to the dreamy, psychodelic folk of the likes of Donovan, Cat Stevens and Nick Drake. The haunting “Wiches Dream” exemplifies that retro vibe. The introspective “Wake Up,” about coming to grips with alcoholism (I’m not sure whether it is autobiographical – if it is, Jennings is lucky to make the realization at a relatively young age with his career on track), may be the highlight of the album.

The Minneapolis-based Jennings is a masterful songwriter, consistently crafting high-quality material.  Among his early career highlights were his second album, Birds Flying Away, and Use Your Voice, his fifth outing.  Writing songs since he was a teenager, Jennings has a devoted cult following, which one suspects will grow over time as he continues to write and to tour. Although not his best album, his ninth album, Minnesota, is solid and definitely worth the price of admission. It adds yet another quality work to his prolific career.  The playing time, at just over 31 minutes, is a bit on the short side -you may want to bring something else along for that Chicago commute – but you will find yourself singing along with Jennings’ inspired nuggets in no time, making that drive time seem to pass a little more quickly.

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.

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”

READERS PICK: MAY 2011

Twangville readers picked My Morning Jacket‘s Circuital as their favorite album of May 2011.

If there’s anyone out there redefining classic rock it’s Jim James and My Morning Jacket. Circuital the band’s sixth LP takes me back to 70′s era Pink Floyd where sound was used to paint vivid pictures of voyages we could only have in our minds. MMJ conjures up the similar dreamscapes with Circuital. We’ve seen this in this decade from bands like Radiohead and the Flaming Lips but neither carry the authenticity to 70′s psychedelia that Kentucky’s MMJ does.

Known for their sonic experimentation, this release is no different. “Victory Dance” opens with James sounding off what sounds like horns but doing so with his voice becoming a battle cry of sorts. Title track “Circuital” sports a few bars reminiscent of YouTube sensation Keyboard Cat. I can only surmise this is their ongoing sense of humor playing out. Some may find it distracting. True or not, it makes me like the song more. “Holdin’ On To Black Metal” is a Wayne Coyne (Flaming Lips) meets James Bond moment with a chorus of girls celebrating “black metal” with triumphant horns as backdrop to James’s signature falsetto.

Like most My Morning Jacket albums, this one took a few listens to strike a chord with me. Now, I can’t stop listening. Sometimes you don’t recognize brilliance until you seek to understand. That said, I haven’t found the same kind of thread you’ll find in Pink Floyd era concept albums that may have put Circuital over the top. Still, this album rocks.

Standouts: Circuital, First Light, You Wanna Freak Out

The finest example of what I mean by that is perhaps So the Story Goes.  It reminded me of the kind of power pop you got from Katrina & the Waves, or even Petula Clark waaaay back in the day.  It’s snap-your-fingers fun.  There’s the same kind of vibe with Hold Of the Night and my favorite, Raincloud.

More typical of the album though is the smokey, jazzy, chanteuse style.  The disc opens with Archer, with its film noir feel.  Animal follows a couple of tunes later with very breathy vocals.  The best example of the style, though, is Stumble with its Mick Ronson funkiness and highly stylized vocals (and a tasty bit of vibraphone in the background).  There are also a couple of ballads on the album that utilize the huskiness of Choffel’s voice to their advantage as well, Hot Shot and Come Clean.

Steady Eye Shaky Bow isn’t the usual Twangville fare.  But with the support of a number of local stalwarts, it’s kind of what you’d expect from a jazz singer coming out of the Austin music scene.  You owe it to yourself to give this a listen.

The album starts off with Run Away, an oh-so-indie love song featuring Sarah’s vocals and a subtle backing from Shawn Colvin that would drop right into a Twilight/Vampire Diaries soundtrack.  In that same vein is the Radiohead song The Tourist, with instrumental and vocal backing from the Punch Brothers.  There’s also My Muse, an original composition featuring a just-slightly-off-kilter sound and frequent collaborators Alex Hargreaves and Nathanial Smith.

At the other end of the spectrum there’s no mistaking Sarah’s bluegrass and Americana roots.  In fact, the album ends with a couple of songs in those genres.  Gypsy is a lovely little country waltz perfectly at home in her birthplace of Wimberley, Texas.  Peace is a Celtic laced instrumental that personifies its title.  And Come Around, while more jazzy in its arrangement, bears an unmistakable imprint from banjo legend Bela Fleck and fiddle virtuoso Casey Driessen.

In fact, one of the high points of the album is how deftly producer Gary Paczosa weaves in the talent of contributors like Jerry Douglas and Viktor Krauss.  Along those lines, my favorite song of the album is Ring Them Bells, a Dylan number that Sarah turns into an anthemic salute to life.  With her combination of indie songs and vocals, and bluegrass instrumental chops, Sarah has become a darling of the NPR music set.  Follow Me Down shows why that happened, but also underscores the fact her talent will keep her a force in Americana long after passing fads have died.

The first cut, Dry Creek Inn, is a paean to the late 60′s sounds of Roger McGuinn and The Byrds.  Except instead of the familiar 12-string sound, guitarist Noah Jeffries and mandolinist Dennis Ludiker have combined their instruments to create something that’s similar, but subtlety and enjoyable different.  The second tune, Smokeblowers, moves forward a few years to the sort-of country rock of the acoustic Doobie Brothers before they went down the schmaltz pop route.  This time, the difference is bass player Matt Mefford, who puts a Stanley Clark imprint on the song and makes you wish you could have Mark Ronson go back and remix a bunch of those early Eagles or Poco tunes.

From there, things shift to more of a jazzy feel.  SoHo showcases the bands harmonies, with a very Bill Frissell-like guitar track.  Changa Chang goes even further down the path with multiple key changes, jazz improvisation solos and a brief section in the end that could have come from Stravinsky.  That segues directly into Nightmares By the Sea with it’s minor keys and tempo that would be right at home on an Arcade Fire recording.

One of the things I liked most on this album was the band’s ability to combine everything–instruments, vocals, writing–into a song that so cohesively sets a feeling.  Stepping Stones with it’s short phrasings and clipped notes conveys thoroughly that sense of jumping from one rock to the next.  And Spare Key, with its sparse sound and minimalist lyrics, completely reflects the yearning for someone to stay.

Overall this is as much a jazz album as it is rock or folk or bluegrass.  The number of instrumental-only songs may put a few people off.  But the amount of texture and complete mastery of so many sounds make this a recording that earns a lot of listens to catch all the subtlety of the arrangements and gorgeous sound.  I expect to be as enamored of Road From Home in six months as I am today.

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.