The Lacking Permanence

Original psychedelic riff rock is an oxymoron … what matters is the ability to get you off your seat, which this band has aplenty

An unusually sharp pop sensibility keeps this outfit from blending into the background, with rough-and-tumble rocking.

Norwegian death pop worthy of Dave Brubeck with its catchy off-meter hooks takes you through a rainbow-colored tunnel of sharp candy shards.

The specialist carefully manipulated the waldoes linked to the robotic arms in the front of the submersible. The pilot peered out of the top dome, the glare of the spotlights illuminating the complex structure of the oil rig but the visibility of this part of the Gulf of Mexico not allowing much to be seen past the first couple tangles of girders. A single wire tethered the craft to the surface, its sole purpose safely delivering the radio signal carrying its obscure music and coded instructions past fathoms of seawater. The robot arms clasped the watertight bale of Oaxacan tamales tightly. The mission was only half over.

Martin is baring his soul, exposing his darkest secrets in a whispered croon, here inside this closet.

I’m not going to deny the synesthetic appeal of songs with words about pictures, but there is something additionally poignant about the mood created that seems to stand out. The images called forth serve a variety of purposes, from the reminiscent to the hedonistic, but just like your family album, the whole thing works out because it has to.

The driver felt the leads tremble under their hands. The navigator clung resolutely to the sled, keeping an eye on the white horizon of the Wexford hills as they put some miles between themselves and the Monongahela. The only sound besides the rushing skids on the snow and the panting of the dogs was a faint crackle of song leaking from the driver’s earpiece. The heist had been a success; behind them, a net filled with silver Mylar balloons trailed and bobbed in the generated midnight wind.

Solid songs that mix a generous dollop of traditional country elements with a big scoop of indie pop.

Heavenly melodies, luscious harmonies, over-chorused guitar jangles, and a sunny sparkling delivery make this suitable for ‘90s 4AD fans.

The thin Nebraska ice crackled ominously as one of the occupants of the well-appointed tent leaned back on their recliner. They peered at their line, descending into the near-freezing water and vibrating sympathetically to the sounds of the radio. The other ice-fisher threw a log on the fire, pausing in recognition at the song before smiling and turning it up.