The Lacking Details

The name of this band may change every few years, but the implacable drone is unmistakable, like a heavy, doomed Ramones with a penchant for occasional celestial excursions.

When Rob Crow gets to anthologize the songs he wants to cover into an album, the results are disparate, insightful, and educational, ranging from King Crimson to the Melvins to the Beach Boys.

There is something familiar yet quite subversive in the way Sneaks assembles their synthetic layers and stream-of-consciousness vocalizations into a collage of desperate modern living.

A new collection of covers from Yo La Tengo is not unusual, but their frequency does allow for some measurement of the band’s current mood, and the songs are always trailheads for musical exploration.

Spooky and unhinged, this single plods along with the menacing tone you might expect from the title. The flip side is more interesting, with call-and-response vocals, a bad attitude, and a woozy organ.

Kurt Vile’s surgical lyrics and out-there guitar playing overshadow the fact that he is a bona-fide troubadour, a distinctive voice and presence that hangs out in your head and strums out their weird tunes from an armchair in the corner.

Posthumous releases are always a tricky proposition, but Sharon Jones was a talent literally larger than life, and the combination of her of deep rich voice slathered over the funky Dap Kings has yet to fail.

With its Byrds-inpired jangle, harmonized “whoah-oh”s, and overflowing nervous energy, this could very well be an unearthed recording from the liminal era between “new wave” and “alternative”.

It’s been a while, but Elvis Perkins’ songwriting chops remain as lush as ever, an unexpected oasis of skewed harmonies and surprising arrangements in a dry sandy desert of plinky singer-songwriters.

Weird manic indie funk-verging-on-pop with a weird manic sense of humor and they’re not afraid to throw in a horn section here and there to bolster their hooks and riffs.