Slipped Discs

Yellowbirds - The Color

Former Apollo Sunshine singer/songwriter Sam Cohen’s cosmic rock crop of rafter-rattling pop ricochets from reverb-heavy heartache to bright, astral enlightenment. Evoking psychotropic-folk fandangos via effects-laden auto-harps, brisk, mournful guitars and thick percussive conniptions, “Color,” cranks out blissfully boisterous warbling; open road odes to safe havens from rollicking rainbow souls brimming with evangelical fire, worldly wayfarer wisdom and unchained changeling jangle.

Asobi Seksu - Fluorescence

Stirring fuzzy buzzing watery flotsam alongside mesmerizing mermaid melodies, “Fluorescence,” swims in shimmering whimsy whose celestially electric swarms swoop through wicked cherubic doo-wop wrapped in bewitching beat-filled fission propelling jet-setting soundscapes. The variously talented duo’s effervescent shoe-gazing mazes uncage cartoon-groomed dream-pop for haunted spectral head-trips smeared in smooth, convoluted quasi-kitschy cacophony; gilded, puppy-dog melancholy crackling under shiny nursery rhyme kindness.

Tina Dico - Welcome Back Color

A versatile voice whose fullness and shading lends edge to her breezy eloquence and sympathy to her perceptive messages, Dico’s jam-packed double-disc introduces America through her European chart-toppers, new tunes and reworked acoustic duets. Hard choices dressed in eye-catching pop-rock frocks and consensual easy-listening christenings, “Welcome,” invites glistening images inside beautifully agile ballads and unfettered confessions within sage, engaged serenades.

The Dodos - No Color

Happily thrashing contrapuntal puzzles, “No,” explodes in joyfully melodic thunder. Stitched up and knitted from ribald, tribal indie-rock waltzes and shell-shocked, cock-eyed thrill-ride spirals, the Dodo’s pleasing, fleeting seesaw swatch of durable dynamics sandwich palatable pleasures from clever, dueling romantics whose burgeoning urgency and aggressively zesty methods conjure dreamboat sea-shanties among lively pop options diverting flirty percolations around revisionist’s collisions.

Ringo Deathstarr - Colour Trip

Bulldozer composure’s muffled muscle, “Trip,” whips blistering skate-punk bluster into decidedly indecipherable custard. Tasty bandaged tangents languishes over laudable gauze merging kaleidoscopic monsters inside warped torpor as crackling fractals blasting acid-washed passions mask bedroom whisperings under buzz-saw hooks. The Austin trio’s debut usher lusciously crunchy lullabies past demure assurance into backwards catastrophes braving hazy waves, pounding sounds and curlicue grooves.

Stricken City - Losing Colour

Announcing their demise before releasing their final effort, London-based indie-pop instigators Stricken City insure their underground cult status with nimble middle class narratives marrying sinister riffs and cavernous crescendos to winged deliveries tunneling through riveting rhythms. Posh pariahs stylishly sizing up fleeting scenes, “Losing,” fuses vexing questions and parochial prose to turbulent furnaces stoking fiery choirs and deft, reflective projections.

Southeast Engine - Canary

Penitent and persevering, rowdy and reverent, SEE’s gurgling Wurlitzers and Delta-bound brass rile rustic ruckus for relapsed travails, electrified revivalists fronting frontier racketeers, recasting tragic burdens into grizzled, gratifying honky-tonk. A ragged tabernacle, “Canary,” canvasses unflappable affirmations etched in mournful cornfields, barnyard brimstone and boardwalk morality; rousing rust belt ballads conjuring coal mines and cold spells, bad luck and love-sickness.

Lonely Forest - Arrows

Grass-roots minutiae fuel monumental pop as soft-spoken notions build to pouncing indie-rock onslaughts, “Arrows,” targets existential displacement inside self-assured thoughts. Pensive engines drive soul-searching questions, uplifting torrents of shape-shifting sympathies assembling resplendent, compelling parades.  Sailing and skating over breathless rhythms and runaway bass, TLF’s punchy electric strumming quivers in shiny, obliging slip ‘n slide wildness, barely containing contagious, ageless sincerity.

Erland and the Carnival - Nightingale

Electronic textures scatter among magical, galloping madrigals, swinging, London-based pop and moody, psyche-spooky folk as E&TC’s intricate Wickerman mix of jingling, jittery side-trips dance to arcane but catchy cadences redressed inside modern Sleepy Hollow closets. Bristling, underhanded homage captured in ghoulish studio rapture, “Nightingale,” grooms groovy roots into macabre insinuations, ominous promises lurking in sly, denied smirks and incestuous jests.

Heidi Spencer and the Rare Birds - Under Streetlight Glow

Lingering fiddling and tidewater drums filter drifting harmonicas and blue-sky slide; sweet molasses melodies dally about weary wishes as halting, unholstered Spencer and her Cold Mountain minstrels wrap dilapidated desires over tattered sighs littering forlorn sojourns ravaged from fog-bound farewells. Cradling Appalachian patience, “Glow,” exposes windswept ragdoll blues wallowing in unspoken truth playfully wavering between pregnant pauses and uncertain resolve.

Raveonettes - Raven in the Grave

Seductive juxtapositions churn bright, blinding riffs from velvety, fuzz-pop melt-downs. Skulking miasmas of scathing, blazing reverb, “Grave,” cultivates dangerous conveyance around heavenly self-possession. Pretty punk defiance abducting prom-dress pledges, pressing crepe-paper hearts between dream-pirate menace dipped in coy, corrosive curtseys and proudly shrouded pastels dressed in rain-gray attitude. The Raveonettes’ fierce, mascara-rimmed melancholy molds vertigo-riddled Valentines into steel-plated, corrugated cool.

Alison Krauss and Union Station - Paper Airplane

Slow country waltzes court tranquil restraint bathed in tender nuance and worldly-wise meandering. Alison and her classy, Grammy-winning mavericks, Union Station reunite to unravel talented toe-tapping tapestries tastefully tethered and graciously plaited like sunshine on crystal streams. Soothing and lucid, “Paper,” embraces lean times and troubled souls combating the sadness with rich, picturesque refrains, welcoming harmonies and unrepentantly sentimental renderings.

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