Toby Keith's Hope Is Beer-Fueled Paradise

Toby Keith deserves some country boy friendly applause for "Hope On The Rocks" the latest link in his sixteen album body of work which reinforces the widely held notion in country circles that a little beer with just the right head of foam makes the toughest of hoed roads easier to manage. Where Mr. Keith thrives is when paying homage to the kingdom of Shiner Bock, Budweiser and, since I happen to be a Texas resident I can't overlook this, Lone Star. On "I Like Girls That Drink Beer" he endorses a preference for women who aren't so caught up in their la-di-dah social standing, mansions and related opulence, that they can't hoist a col'one. The simple pleasure wins out over the silver spoon. The charm is in his unabashed honesty. You'll discover more of a randy homage to the perfectly curved woman in "The Size I Wear". John can have his pick of any woman he wants so long as it's not Toby's ideal heavenly sent creation. The drums jack up the machismo quotient a good bit. You know the two gents aren't coming to blows because they have this primeval understanding of territorial rights. Out of all 10 tracks this one's the most clearly realized instance of Toby out for a good time and the good women that such leisure implies. Women and beer...two thirds of the country music holy trinity and he hammers home the right snapshots. As if those weren't enough of a portrait of what Keith craves try on "Cold Beer Country". The loose jointed horn. The high kicking Full Monty for the roadhouse set attitude. Keith's a road warrior you want to bring out of the rain and appease because beer satisfies him so completely. Not that he's a one trick pony. "You Ain't Alone" is teeth chattering not because you'll be scared to sleep without a light on but because the echoed hauntings of what life's dished out to this point, coupled with a dizzying hyper shift of minor chords divert one's attention to the ever rotating kaleidoscope of circumstances we face in one flavor or another. Telltale signs of a homeowner who's spent more than a few twilights seeking out inner calm. The man is in one corner of the world. The women is equally restless in another. Try not to own portions of his bottled up intensity after a few listens. It bears reaffirming that the Toby Keith people went bat shit crazy for due to "Red Solo Cup" is the same relatable joe, quite possibly multiplied by one stein's worth of sip service. "Hope On The Rocks" goes down agreeably, bubbles and all.

Flyleaf's New Horizons Sound Sharp

Lacey Sturm's voice springs out with purpose throughout Flyleaf's "New Horizons" album. That heart on her sleeve teems with fire. Unlike Pink, who sprinkles mischief all over her performance style or Adele, who's a soulful belter, Lacey's ace in the hole is the clarity with which she uses her instrument. If you dare to dream and battle with the frustration of not feeling like you're getting any closer to achieving it as days pass then "Cage On The Ground" is sure to be one of your new 2012 jams. Lacey directs her energy all the way to the back of the room. Sameer Bhattacharya and Jared Hartman prove themselves to be a formidable guitar tag team repeatedly. Where the fret boards grab center stage is "Broken Wings". Comparing the chord progressions to a painter's color wheel, this song radiates gentle yellows and oranges. Lacey, ever grateful for friendship and the memories that often ensue strokes listeners with an ever so gentle caress. She assumes a defiant, steeled pose for "Stand", prepared to face the world with open hand and ears. Accelerated pacing toward the close makes the track a worthy anthem. Most eerie in this bag of alt-rock tricks is "Bury Your Heart". The slight quiver in her delivery is just unsettling enough to promote shivers. The song's focus seems to be on the difficulties of maintaining a lush life (references to gold and platinum, valuable markers of units sold in the recording industry). "New Horizons" highlights the importance of living in the moment. On the title track James Culpepper is at his beat-keeping best. This leads me to believe he's taking its message to heart. Lacey has since left the band to focus on her blossoming family. "New Horizons" demonstrates that she injected plenty of affection and raw vocal strength into Flyleaf before she opted to embrace the new horizons in her private life.

Bridgit Mendler's Debut Should Remain Nameless

Cheese is valuable in an American diet. However as a trait running throughout Bridgit Mendler's recording debut "Hello My Name Is" it makes me reach for the cringe button almost without realizing the impulse reaction has been executed. Time after time the lyrics are too goofy to be believed. Take "The Fall Song" for instance. Specifically I can't take my mind off her description of the boy in her life. He's "like sunshine with a chance of rain". In meteorological terms there's room for optimism. But why the chance of rain? Does Bridgit have herself on guard for the heartache she suspects will reward her devotion? "5:15" presents her as some sort of heartache cursed heroine with, as she puts it, "enough strength to flip a pancake". Thanks to the songwriting I'm not even showering much attention on Bridgit's attempts to sound street ("Where u be at?" from "The Fall Song") or the PG-rated softness even the dance oriented-numbers ("Ready Or Not") suffer from. Spelling out one of the words in your song's title, in Bridgit's case the "window" frame in "Rocks At My Window" isn't adorable or adorably menacing. Obnoxious would be the better adjective. I'm not won over by the subject matter either. Okay, so being cooped up in your bedroom fending off the loathsomeness of stupid people participating in reality TV sucks out loud. Nothing earth shattering there. Or how about Bridgit's desire to live like Oprah in "Ready Or Not". Pop culture icon reference? Check. Then there's "Hold On For Dear Love". She treated Mr. Possibly Right like a punching bag and used the worst words during her fit of pique. Homespun snapshots of teen suburbia just don't linger in memory after the CD concludes. It apparently flies with sizable pockets of the Disney Channel crowd because, as of this posting, it's taking up cozy real estate in Billboard Magazine's Top 20 Album Chart. Hopefully the overwhelming portion of that demographic respects well-articulated lyrics over scribblings that could have been pieced together over a drowsy morning in which the coffee hadn't managed to ignite a buzz. Any comparisons between Bridgit and Carly Rae Jespen are a little premature. Carly's "Call Me Maybe" did a paramount job playing off of the teen innocence whereas Bridgit lays her brand of charms a bit too thick. "Hello My Name Is" doesn't warrant much formal introduction.

Shiny Toy Guns Firing On All Cylinders

The word that Shiny Toy Guns followers are bound to keep returning to again and again in describing the sound of "iii" is "ethereal". I like to think of that word, at least when it's introduced in a musical context, as the sound of possibilities being explored. The road is wide open. The things you could do at the mixing console are endless. Just three bonafide studio albums in, this L.A. foursome linked to various genres such as indie rock, synthpop, and New Wave, dazzles me with the versatile ways it chooses to try and master the possibilities. Man and woman linked arm and arm escaping what reality throws at them is a theme that is returned to time and again. Nowhere is this truer than "Wait 4 Me". It pushes the six-minute mark but you quit nitpicking once you learn how fully committed to their cosmic travels they are. Co-vocalist Carah Faye Charnow presents herself as a heroine with rooting value. The opening moments of the song are marked by her whispered discontent for where she happens to be psychologically and geographically. Buoyed by a jabbing synth she conveys a wish to fly high above the din. Gregori Chad Petree, her romantic partner in crime feels entropy setting in on his soul too. Midway through the song the twosome merges to create divine shared harmony. Chalk up one for the camp which claims a problem shared is a problem halved. Their voices blend seamlessly as two pieces of the same puzzle finally in the right place right time, ready to stage a jail break. Not everything about this record beats a path back to the "us vs. them" story. "Speaking Japanese" leaves nothing to the imagination and that's a wonderfully catchy thing. Sounds like Gregori went out back and rammed some rough edges into his guitar to come up with a blunt uncompromising salvo of notes. Don't be scared, though. In this 3:08 nugget this blunt instrument gives way to Carah joining the legion of coy women of danceable rock calling out to the fellas, "It's my body and you can't have this!" Whether you or your dance partner is drunk or sober the track is wickedly grinding. Shiny Toy Guns has the talent to pull off an aching piano ballad amidst the installation of synth mattresses. I wholeheartedly believe "Take Me Back To Where I Was" is one of the best songs here. No macho testosterone flexing. No complex arrangement threatening to collapse under the burden of its own ambition. At this point one suspects the band has outgrown the club circuit. However, "Take" has the solace fountain jacked up to overflowing. It wouldn't be out of place on the set list for a humble piano player pouring his heart out for chump change. Gregori's decision not to sugarcoat how severely his heartstrings have been yanked on is commendable. Not only that, it's the chief reason explaining why the song has the power to slice through the most jaded, romance-opposed folks. The other song that no reviewer worth a lick should leave out of the Shiny Toy Guns discussion if he is giving shout outs to top drawer songcraft is "If I Lost You". If you can envision a vintage '80s Depeche Mode song only there's a female vocalist writhing in the displeasure that comes with knowing you're separated from the person who as Tom Cruise declared in Jerry Maguire "completes you" then you get the drift. Everything about this song sets the stage for a prime '80s New Wave flashback. Were you into prime mopey Cure? Did you marvel at the space alien hirsute Flock of Seagulls? You'll need to get a deep enough bucket to corral the drool that's going to fall once "Lost" permeates your eardrums. This is perfectly orchestrated '80s era synthpop. The angst quotient soars. The synthesizers keep the song blasting along the rails. Even the a-capella haze at the close will have you forgetting it's not 1984 anymore. Mikey Martin attacks the drum kit with relentless relish. Jeremy Dawson's bass mixes dark elements with a slick "I'm always watching you at every turn" aura of self-satisfaction. In our pop culture, projects with Roman numerals attached to them generally indicate sequels (Superman II, Rocky IV, etc...). It would be an inexcusable mistake to commit that crime with "iii". All the pieces gel to make an outstanding whole which deserves to stand alone as a artistic contribution of impressive individual merit.

Stone Sour Builds Its New "House" on a Solid Foundation of Complacency Shattering Rock

Corey Taylor isn't one of those guys I'd want to have to face off with in an alley. He's intimidating to say the least. As front man of Stone Sour his commanding presence puts him in rarefied air as a leading post-millennial spokesman for whom "life" has been replaced by "existence". "House of Gold and Bones", Part 1" is one enviably inspired undertaking. "Tired" scores on several levels. James Root's guitar carries with it the weight of the titular adjective. This backdrop of being pushed past reasonable limits extends its spirit of oppression as the seconds pass. Corey's voice conveys how fed up he is at a life with no exit to sanity. The highest praise I can muster up for "Last of the Real" is that it pounces on you with a fury Metallica employs to revelatory effect. No quarter given or taken. The diabolical fret theatrics spell out a headbanger's nirvana. In the case of "Taciturn" thought out ambition doesn't add up to lukewarm rock. This track's just as awe-inspiring as metal singles featuring guitars which leap off the front porch like a dog who's unsure where his next meal's coming from. Corey can no longer insist he parted ways with his sensitive side eons ago. The guitar riffs caress instead of pulverize. The resulting song is a stunner that makes me respect Corey's emotional range even more. Such indelible poetry from the tough as nails face of Slipknot? Wow is a gigantic understatement. You'll lap up "RU486" if fist-soaring anthems make you break out in celebratory prickly heats. By comparison "A Rumor of Skin" stands out to due to Roy Mayorga's machine gun style drumming and razor blade gruff guitar. What "Absolute Zero" says about Corey Taylor, regardless of whether the man himself is truly spiritual is that the God he prays to finds it quite kosher to get pissed off, to react when pushed. It's defiant in the superior tradition of metal. There's plenty to savor with part one. I'm counting the months until part two sees the light of day. Corey and friends have reasons to be impressed with themselves. Stone Sour is back, back with a vengeance, and back to kick the butts of all who question their carved corner of rock supremacy.

Anberlin Churns Out Some Vital Rock Noise

Anberlin doesn't shy away from the deeper relationship issues, both with those closest to them and with bigger questions that get them asking "Are we doing this whole being alive thing correctly?" "Vital" embraces the complex issues and, in some cases, lends undeniable octane to the musicianship surrounding them. Take "Desires" for instance. From a rock yelp point of view Joseph Miligan holds his guitar prowess out on an entirely different level. If you listen closely maybe you can hear the fretboard melting under his wicked assault. His work here proves that ax melting isn't solely the province of mainstream guitar gods. Though they carry the somewhat stigmatized Christian rock label, this new effort isn't toothless. The aforementioned track zeroes in on the perils of being in close with someone who insists the world revolves around them, and them alone. You'd be wise to check out "Little Tyrants" strictly on the basis of Joe's demonic efforts. Stephen Christian's voice could cut through the deepest London fog. Look no further than "Other Side" for credible evidence. His pondering makes you want to take his hand, and roam where he roams. He craves warm arms to hold him. You wish for him to receive them. On this track and on "Innocents", Stephen inserts hooky keyboard passages into the framework. "Modern Age" goes toe to toe with some very real psychological concerns that way most of us down in one way or another. The fear of failing is a commonality amongst us. So is the notion that each of us is in the process of writing his own story, directing his own "film", trying to belong to some fellow band of brothers instead of staying condemned to this random drifter on the ponderosa of existence sort of blue funk. The underlying question behind "Someone Anyone" could apply to any social situation be it war, family, or marriage. Said question is "What are we fighting for?" What's a very real connecting thread among rock bands is this searching for an answer that never seems easily attainable. Nathan Young uses his drum techniques to dizzying effect. When he shifts into fifth gear during "Orpheum" you're eager to follow him through the labyrinthine maze the overall mood of the song suggests. "Am I losing control?" is the pontificated question this time around and, once you're swept in the wave of unsettled rhythm you want to fight for control right alongside him. The step up to a heavier sound suits this fivesome. They'll know doubt succeed in leaving the audiences, both potential, and already converted, wanting more.

Two Door Cinema Club Is Worth Joining

The best way to describe the harmonies in "Beacon", the new one from County Down, Ireland's Two Door Cinema Club is to compare it's cosmic scope and breadth to one of those kaleidoscopes you may have had as a kid. That's the one where you turn it and notice colors assuming various related pleasing shapes and  color mixtures. This trio has only been around since 2007 but, if this 11-track set is any indication of their mettle I sense long life in the biz is a distinct possibility. Alex Trimble, the lead vocalist shows off a marked talent for poetry. "Someday" revisits the big picture conundrum that is "Is this journey running from or to who we will wind up being?" He conveys his own uncertainty with a winning, unaffected charm. Kevin Baird's bass handiwork bolsters the urgency of his searching. Sam Halliday proves he's no guitar lightweight. Back to the kaleidoscope comparison. In some tracks the sound is arranged with the lead guitar controlling the lion's share of the energy. Other times, "The World Is Watching" being the most laudable example, it's the three part harmonies, squeaky clean as the time tested Irish spring, that lift the songs to a gorgeous level they would not have achieved had their placement been not so strategic. There is such a thing as cluttered arrangement, something these three apparently know nothing about. They have a flair for getting potential listeners to dash with them through the panoramas of what probably is well on its way to being known as "The Two Door Cinema Club" sound. Kaleidoscope experimentation carries the day. Another way to put it would be to compare the fluid shifting of the tunes to the layer by layer intricacy of Russian nesting dolls. Layer upon layer upon layer until you hit the bedrock energy from one track to the next. Alex deserves a great deal of credit for the dazzling imagery he brings out for "Spring". Just an engaging reassertion of a classic song complaint uttered in the name of budding romance..."One more day is not enough."The old masters of the world of poetry would have approved. All of the tiers employed on this album work magnificently. Because of that it's impossible to be bored. You don't know where the bass, guitar, chorus, horn section, or drum kit will show up. It's nice to hear Two Door Cinema Club laughs at a predictable format for its art. I want to return to this club in the near future and I have a hunch you'll want to as well.