Brandon Fathy

Another mellow and unpretentious folk rock album by the White Buffalo. The singer tells the 1st-person story of an American veteran who returns home and tackles his internal horrors. The White Buffalo invents and tells a compelling story like the best writers, and the album may indeed resonate with members of the US armed forces. The White Buffalo lacks both the catchy song-writing and sonic complexity that brought his folksy contemporaries to celebrity. I'd say he has more in common with the first generation of folk rockers than he does the Fleet Foxes or Mumford and Sons, and this album pushes no ground. On the other hand, Shadows, Greys, and Evil Ways presents a dogged and dire commentary on his 21st-century homeland. And his Morricone-style whistling occasionally penetrates the music with a retro cool. If you like contemporary folk, or a music that tells timeless narrative, then I can't recommend this album enough.

One of the most criminally underrated alternative rock albums of recent memory. 2:54 paid an obvious fortune of attention to every detail, and their debut is sonically impeccable. The album has an undeniable shoegazing inflection which makes the duo sound like they mastered a genre 20 years too late. But mastered it they have. Their lethargic guitars and mellow melodies entreat the listener to kick their feet up and enjoy the scenery. A driving rhythm throughout keeps the lazy post-punk instrumentation from wondering off, and haunted vocal resonate the Cranberries with tales of adolescent love. Their lyrics favour poetics to substance: "Smile through the gate/ Eyes turning lips burning in flame/...Crossing and . in vane/ Need to . disappear", but in this way conjures the early days of indie rock and the grandeur of youth. Few future artists will cite 2:54 as an influence, and they lack the modern demographics to acquire any sizeable following, but their languid intensity and effortless cool means that on any given week some British a-level student will fall in love with them.

More than 50 years of singer-songwriters on, there are still precious few albums that can be described as 'confessional' as this. Finally solo from the Beatles, Lennon was able to sublimate some very personal (and dark) trauma from his childhood psyche into this work of profound vulnerability. The title of each song ("Isolation", "Look at Me", "My Mummy's Dead") tells us which trauma each song is about. Inspired by his own primal therapy, Lennon welcomes his audience to share in their past experiences and scream with him. It doesn't explode like Black Sabbath, but it's not as mellow as Simon and Garfunkel either. It has a primeval energy all its own that shoots in off currents throughout, like a musical tour of a haunted mind. This album has the great experimentation, vocal power, melody, and lyrics of any Beatles album, but it lacks the pop sensibilities, so only a majority of Beatles fans may love this album. On the other hand, fans who don't normally love the Beatles may love this. As personal and avant-garde as it is, this album showed the world that great band members can become a solo singer-poet. For this reason, it is my favourite album by a solo Beatle.

Killer Mike accomplishes something of a stylish and dogged throwback album, including a shoutout to "Def Jam circa 1983" and a sample of Ronald Reagan. His deft denial of modern trends in hip hop is something charming. His hooks have more in common with LL Cool J than they do with Drake, his lyrics more in common with Public Enemy than Kendrick Lamar, and it utilises the heavy synthesiser bassline conjures the old school when even the beats by Dre are becoming the sound of yesteryear. He displays expert rapping skills on explicitly political topics, unashamedly going after presidents by name. Killer Mike discusses war and police brutality with the ethos of the civil rights movement, boasts about his classic literacy on "Willie Burke Sherwood", and makes a respectful tribute to black music on the lead single. At the same time, R.A.P. Music certainly suits the R&B rooms and car stereos more than Kendrick or Macklemore. Killer Mike really can get you on the dance floor. On the other hand, R.A.P. Music sounds dated on release compared to the experimental hip hop of the 2010s. R.A.P. Music could have been released in 1992 and no one would bashed an eye. And as the years go buy it hasn't proved to be the instant classic that Killer Mike might have hoped it to be. But R.A.P. Music is lyrical, socially aware, intense, danceable, and will certainly reward hip hop fans, even if it doesn't secure any new fans.

One Mississippi is a fun punk album filled with 26 short punchy songs that cover an inspiring range of subjects. Usual punk topics are covered - jealousy, the establishment, unrequited love - but J Church also have songs dedicated to Thoreau, helicopter parents, and New York Times Book Reviews. The strength of their album lies is in its shorts songs that have creative subjects and that never descend into self-indulgence. Typical punk intensity and distortion is present, but mellower pop-flavoured songs run throughout. J Church break no ground here. Punk was already over 20 years old and One Mississippi is built on the foundation already laid by Green Day. I would say J Church are closer to their punk roots than Green Day, but still acoustic guitars are featured. Nonetheless, this album's obscurity and flippancy make it the archetypal record of the Bay Area's punk clique. Those looking for avant-garde or musical complexity should look elsewhere. If you're not a punk fan, this album is forgettable. But for me the album is something of a lost hipster gem in the punk canon.

In Advance of the Broken Arm sounds like it belongs in an elitist New York modern art museum with its readymade namesake. On this album, you can here a 21st-century Marcel Duchamp finger pick her noisy guitar too fast while giving us questionable advice: "Every Single Line Means Something" and "Put all Your Eggs in One Basket and Watch that Basket!!!". She throws wrenches at classical philosophy, her drummer wanders off when ever he can, and the whole thing sounds like its held together by duct tape. Five out of five stars.

Come Away With Me is one of the great successes of the early 2000s. Jones's sexy and mature vocals demonstrate a sophisticated singer, over mellow acoustic instruments that are unpretentious but elegant. An admirable and difficult affect to pull off. Jones herself is hardly a jazz singer, and the album is ultimately a pop album. Nonetheless, the album's position at number 1 on the chart's is a real tribute to Jones's confidence as a singer in an age of hip hop and alternative rock. The album has something of a contemporary sound, but lacks the full-on contemporary twist that could have made it a long-lasting classic. If it had done what the Strokes did to post-punk or what Outkast had done with funk on Stankonia, then Come Away with Me would be a celebrated masterpiece. Instead the age of a person can now be dated whenever they declare they're a fan of Norah Jones. The songwriting on "Don't Know Why" is memorable and sounds beautiful as an instrumental, and the lyrics show a remarkable if routine confession of belated love. Many of her songs show a romantic intelligence that was refreshing to pop music ears. Yet years after its release, it hardly garners the attention it might deserve. On the other hand, her commercial success demonstrated that there was a hole in the music of the early 2000s for people who wanted a little classiness in their cocktails. As it stands, the album remains a melodious and evocative quasi-masterpiece waiting rediscovery.

The Who’s co-founder, Pete Townsend, invented the label ‘power pop’ to describe this very album. It rebels against the pretentiousness of the Beatles and Hendrix, but it still crunches like hard rock should. Like many great albums from 1967, Sell Out is full of trippy effects, but it's also tight and melodic (unlike the long Doors and Velvet Underground instrumentals), unpretentious, playful, and flippant. The sound is harmonious and upbeat, and the lyrics and jubilant and humours. They pioneered psychedelia’s place in pop alongside more successful albums by the Bealtes, Love, and Pink Floyd. Within a decade, the ‘rockists’ would find the album too silly and unsophisticated, and yet the punks would find it over-produced, and so its legacy has happened to dim over the decades through no fault of the album. While not executed perfectly, the strength of this album is definitely its concept. As it’s title suggests, The Who Sell Out challenges the distinction of high art and low art, elevating advertisement to an artform while simultaneously lampooning it. “Odorno” is about a romantic tragedy that could have been saved by the use of a different perfume, demonstrating Townshend's growing lyricism. It does the same to pop music itself, in a style that is more ironic than any of their contemporaries. This was perhaps the first great album to critically engage with its own commercial character; it may be the first great postmodernist album of any genre. While other contemporaries were just as artsy as the Who (The Beatles, the Stones, the Beach Boys), their lyrics were largely romantic and sublime, whereas the Who sang flippantly about everyday moments and throw-away culture. The Who did here for pop music what Andy Wahrol did for painting. For all its conceptual sophistication, Townshend’s lyrics aren’t as punchy, Moon’s drumming doesn’t run as wild, Entwislte doesn’t spin out as manically, and Daltry doesn’t sing as powerfully, as they did on the rest of their original lineup albums. And of course, the concept is not as effective as on Tommy or as fully executed as Sgt Pepper’s. At the same time, fans of artsy and mind-boggling psychedelic music would be better off checking out Are You Experienced, The Doors, Velvet Underground and Nico, or Axis: Bold as Love . On the other hand, this album combines almost all of the elements that we’ve come to associate with (and love about) the 1960s, and is the perfect album for any lover of pop music, and for any lover of contemporary art. And pandering to both crowds successfully is no small feat. The Who Sell Out strikes a rarely achieved balance between melodic pop, powerful instrumentation, and philosophical concept

Light, soulful, and jazzy, Latest Record Project: Volume 1 is a sprawling double album that offers Morrison's easy sounds, but lacks his old-school spiritual drift. At 75 years old, his paranoid insistence that 'the media' is perpetuating big lies or his dismay on the fate of 'Western Man' make this feel like an album by a cranky old-timer. It falls just short of hostility and invoking conspiracies. At least the back-up musicians groove and Van's voice is still on point

Donavan is a guilty pleasure of mine, so you may enjoy this less than I did. Make no mistake, this album does not contain newly recorded material, just unreleased half-century old ballads. I know haunting melodies sung over softly strum guitars are passé, but each song is crisp, focussed, and just shy of gorgeous. And each song is sweetly dedicated to Linda, Donovan's wife of 55 years, making its use of older material all the more poignant. Not every song is his own composition, but the appearance of Nils Lofgren's stately guitar give each arrangement personality. On the other hand, I respect if 50-year old folk arrangements aren't your cup of tea, and there were no stand-out tracks to me. But if you are a fan of mellow and lyrical folk music (never old and never new), than you will enjoy this that can only be called a lovely homespun record.