How is Nick Cave 50? Seriously, the man is pure charisma and sexually-charged energy, so much so that he really puts younger men in his racket to shame. With his intense, impeccably styled look and English gent poise, you have to wonder if Cave isn't possibly the hippest cat in the back alley of rock. How many men do you know who can actually get away with that mustache? But let's get to Cave's newest — and damned if I won't say it, finest — release to date with his band, The Bad Seeds. His first album proper since The Lyre of Orpheus/Abattoir Blues, not including his stop-off Grinderman side project and album of the same name, Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! is one of the most facetious, lascivious and downright powerful albums he's ever created.

The lyrics alone make this album one of the most profoundly intelligent albums of the year. Extremely well-crafted, layered in meaning and tackling Cave's now well-established skyline of subjects (death, love, sex, misery, darkness and melancholy), the album goes further by offering up prose-based narratives exploring myth encapsulated in a modern protagonist, the dark underbelly of sin and purgatorial anti-redemption, and he's encased it all in some of the finer musical arrangements and harmonies he has attempted thus far. The title track, with its addictive refrain and sharp guitar play makes it clear that this is advanced listening. "Night of the Lotus Eaters" sees Cave at his filthiest best, in terms of dark, deep sensuality and prose. "We call Upon the Author" is excellent, with a building return that makes this pleading anthem dig into your head. The most surprisingly funny and kinetic track on the album has got to be "More News From Nowhere," which is both playfully catchy and delightfully written. Cave's at his best right now.

I’ve been waiting, impatiently, for the side project The Gutter Twins, co-fronted by Twilight Singers (former Afghan Whigs) frontman Greg Dulli and solo act Mark Lanegan (formerly of Screaming Trees) to come out for over two years now. And my God, has it ever been worth the wait. Essentially, both of these men have pure, unadulterated sex for voices: Sensual, deep and unbelievably raw and powerful. There’s no way you won’t be affected by their combined force on Saturnalia (named after the ancient Roman festival where masters and their slaves reversed roles). I feel like I’m sinning hard just listening to this album.

While the collection of songs is new, Dulli and Lanegan have been working together since the start of the millennium, which is evident in the cohesive strength of Saturnalia. Every song is a clear-cut diamond, excellently written and produced. Dark, visceral and even deeply demonic, the songs of Saturnalia evoke pain, suffering and sin, yet also a tremulous yearning for redemption. Guitars thrash and fight against each other in the song "The Stations," which is a blend of mysticism and darkness bordering on fatalism. "Idle Hands," a standout track, takes you down hard and fast into the self-flagellating world of Lanegan. It’s both devious and corruptibly delicious. "I Was in Love with You" is a nod to Dulli’s previous romantically fatalistic sound found on his previous Whigs and Twilight recordings; same goes for "Front Street." Part sinners, part saints, Dulli and Lanegan have struck gold with Saturnalia. Let’s hope they don’t stop this collective pursuit.

When I was a knee-scraped, orange-terry-onesie-wearing pre-teen in the '80s, some of my fondest memories have to be of my dad and uncles takin' care of business in the summer. They'd be in the backyard, smoking cigarettes despite the muggy heat, drinking tinnies upon tinnies of beer and arguing over how to get the burgers done, pissed at politics, slapping their wives asses, all while blaring Born In The U.S.A. Like a bunch of kids my age at the time, I had no fucking clue that "Dancing In The Dark" was a seminal track that addressed middle-America's inadequacies (or, for that matter, why Nebraska wasn't "dad's sad music,") but rather perfect-pitch Americana — a lesson I would learn in my early twenties, just about the time I got off Brit rock and fell in love with Americana. I just thought "Dancing" sounded rad and loved when it came on. As far as I'm concerned, I never thought we'd get another crack at the Boss giving us anything a ball's throw close to that album. Then he went and put out Magic.

For many of us diehard Boss fans, there's no such thing as a bad album by the man. Besides being a phenomenal performer and a godfather of American proletariat rock, he also has created a catalogue of music that has withstood the test of time, maintaining its integrity, originality and beauty. Since '05's Devils & Dust told us that the Boss, despite still lookin' hot, was indeed maturing (especially when it came to his songwriting), I still had that longing for him to return to his roots. Enter Magic, which is being hailed as his finest album since Born In The U.S.A. by many critics. And rightfully so. From the thrusting and eager "Radio Nowhere," to the poignantly deep "Girls In Their Summer Clothes," and the achingly beautiful title track "Magic," there is no way this album won't affect you. I could go on about every song, but do you really need me to? If you know the Boss and love him as I do, you'll be enthralled with Magic. If you don't, well, now is as ever an excellent time to introduce yourself to his music through this album.

Okay, I know this is a surprise for some of you: Goldfrapp goes acoustic with Seventh Tree! Gasp! ‘Where are the electronic, sexy arrangements and hip-swivelling songs from Black Cherry and Supernature?’ you might ask yourself. I know, it’s not the Goldfrapp we’re all used to, but I, for one, think this album is a stunningly brave escape from the sound that has come to encapsulate Brit duo Allison Goldfrapp and Will Gregory. It’s clear that Goldfrapp ain’t a one-trick pony, but is rather willing to take on new challenges and expressions in sound. With Allison’s lush, lascivious vocals still strong and fresh, she’s simply applying them in a new, mystical and still overtly sexual way. Where the duo’s sound was once perfect for the dance floor, now it’s perfect for the boudoir.

I’m about to preface this review by saying that if you don’t listen to The Brian Jonestown Massacre, then I really can’t be friends with you. Sorry, but I can’t. Because if you’re not in on this fucking gem of a band, then I can only assume you don’t really care for good rock and roll, which means we’ll never understand each other on the most fundamental plane from which I choose my comrades, so what would be the point? If you do like BJM, on the other hand, welcome back sons and daughters, we’re about to embark on another fantastical pop-psych ride together into the playland of Anton Newcombe’s mind yet once again. No need to bring the acid, the music alone will do.

Anyway, those of you who revere BJM and worship at the altar of Anton Newcombe will be just as jazzed as I am over the release of My Bloody Underground. Diving even deeper into the realms of his consciousness in a way that comes back up with pearls of the man’s musical fantasy, Newcombe has once again hit the supersonic sky’s outer limits with this set of tracks. Taking post-modern psychedelic garage rock to a realm that is genuinely defiant and new, this album includes some of the finest arrangements and harmonies I have heard in a long time.

Opting to fuzz out the band’s sound and jack up the ride, the tracks (all quite colourfully titled) “Bring Me The Head of Paul McCartney On Heather Mills Wooden Leg (Dropping Bombs On The White House),” “Monkey Powder” and “Golden-Frost” are the few with lyrics. “Who Fucking Pissed In My Well?” and “Just Like Licking Jesus” are superb orchestral hymns, appositionally devoid of lyrics, yet full on in compositional originality.

Newcombe is falling, spiralling into a whole new world of sound that’s more experimental than ever before. If you think you can handle it, strap yourself in, put on this album and get ready to feel the G-force that is BJM.

Catch me on the right moment and I am a sucker for revival indie bands who have a hankering for punk rock, surf and country. This is that moment. The trinity of traditional genres have fused, mixed and been arranged in the most recent release by Black Lips, Not Bad Not Evil to bring me here. And it’s not bad, not bad at all! I don’t think that the moment will last forever, but here it is.

The albums’ surfy sounds-and bluesy calling are intriguing. In the more subdued tracks it’s a lazy slur of psychedelic proportions, like the stand out tune, “Veni Vidi Vici”! It’s a mishmash of influences and samples of musical styles that is mixed so well that I don’t even want to question the reasoning behind this post-modern-ish EP. This trippy little number is a piece of work that is high on my rotation list.

What’s most important about Not Bad Not Evil is that it’s fun - the kind of album that promotes good times and bad decisions. The choppy vocals of John Smith may be flat in a whiny non-accented Liam Gallagher sort of way, and might be uninteresting in any other context, but are redeemed by the fancy stylized composition of the tracks.

This release caters to the crowd that will most likely buy and enjoy it. It’s youthful, all over the place, impulsive and cut throat, in the ‘I don’t give a shit what you think’ sense. I’m totally down. Now where’s that repeat button again?

Hot damn, I'm addicted to the new Black Mountain album, In The Future. I mean, this Vancouver-based collective's '05 self-titled debut LP was pretty rad, but this little bundle of rock is just off the charts! Remember the day when albums were put together in such a way that you could put them on, listen to them from start to finish, and be fully and completely satisfied? Hell, the kind of album you'd hit the repeat button for after the last track wrapped up? God bless these kids – they've put out just that kinda album.

God bless 'em, the boys of Les Savy Fav are back and better than ever! I almost forgot about this fantastic indie rock outfit! Frontman Tim Harrington finally got off his duff after one hell of a bout of writer's block to craft the sixth album proper from his Brooklyn, New York, band. Hold on to your undies, kids, cuz not only have they honed their post-hardcore tracks but they've brought their friends in on the action, too. Miss Friedberger (Fiery Furnaces), Nick Thorburn (Unicorns), and Toko Yasuda (Enon) back up Harrington's super-scruff-and-rough vocals, along with one miss Emily Haines (Metric) playing piano and plenty of drum action from Joe Plummer (Black Heart Procession) to boot. Les Savy Fav are not dicking around on Let's Stay Friends, I can tell ya that!

Kicking off with the forward-layering track "Pots & Pans," the album unfolds quite auspiciously, full of charm and charged emotion, culminating in a fever pitch that opens up the door for the excitement to come. After "Pots & Pans," you'd best strap yourself in and get ready to feel the G-force, cuz "The Equestrian" (it beats you up in the best way), "Patty Lee" (damn, so catchy it hurts) and "What Would Wolves Do?" (it'll trickle in and swivel around in your head) will tear you up. Full of highly energetic lyrics, clean-cut arrangements and plenty of well-poised distortion, each track seems to pull at you, dragging you in different directions, yet it works. Well worth the wait, this album.

I get pretty easily jacked up by new music that comes completely out of left field, composition- and lyrics-wise. I'll admit it: I like when artists challenge me by offering up material that isn't trying to be a surefire, safe bet. Yeah, I like that I know the Arcade Fire and Broken Social Scene, for example, are likely to deliver, but I like it even more when I get hold of an album where all my expectations are left at the front door and the album blows my mind. Enter Cass McCombs' newest LP, Dropping the Writ. Before the end of '07, I mentally put together my top-10 list. Well, guess who made it into the top five? That's right — Mr. McCombs. No easy feat, believe me.

The Baltimore, Maryland native already has two very solid LPs under his belt, with Dropping the Writ rounding out his discography into a nice little trifecta of indie deliciousness. So let's get into the meat of it — why is this album so good that it's jumped ahead of others on my top-10 list so effortlessly? For starters, this album is hands down one of the most original I've ever heard in terms of composition, lyrics and instrumental arrangements. With its charmingly playful and poignant lyrics, lush combinations of sound and excellent production, I marvel at the fact that other critics aren't in equal ecstasies about it.

The opening track, "Lionkiller," immediately pulls the chair out from under you. Its deep, throbbing beat and echoing, powerful vocals are as infectious as a hard fever. Up next, you'll swoon over "That's That," an endearingly whimsical ballad that will break your heart, it's so damn pretty. Oh, and let's not forget "Morning Shadows" — hot damn, now this is what unadulterated elegance in a song is all about! Every track on this LP, short of "Crick in My Neck" (which kinda bugs me), is ferociously addictive. When it comes down to it, Dropping the Writ doesn't sound like any other album I've ever heard — hence its massive appeal. You want something new that will charm you? Check out Dropping the Writ already!

After its much-anticipated release, Cease to Begin both satisfies and surpasses my expectations. In this second effort, Band of Horses reach the same depths as their debut, appealing to the poet, the lover, those rich in spirit, and those young and playful at heart.

Lyrically, this new album is just as poignant, telling stories and painting pictures both vivid and abstract. The words accompany both the mood created by the album and the gorgeous nature photos found in the liner notes.

Coming from a girl who has had her heart broken by the best of them (Van Zandt, Leadbelly and Mr. Guthrie himself), I see something of the Horses’ old magic in the new Cease to Begin. Tracks such as "Marry Song" and "Windows Blues" can be heard as simple declarations of life’s beautiful details and sorrows, addressing the times you feel happiest: you are about to "marry [your] love" or the times you feel saddest: you'll "starve at your place at the table."

The jumpy-toe-tapping-grab of "Ode to LRC" is reminiscent of songs from Everything All The Time, though my favorite picks for the album, "Is there a Ghost" and "No Ones Gonna Love You," display Ben Bridwell’s voice, which has been lifted slightly to the forefront.

On this album, the rest of the boys play their respective roles and own as much of the music as do Bridewell’s vocals. Music can be taught, but band chemistry cannot. Live, these songs are a success because of this group of gents as a whole. They play like they mean it.

Their past success solidified a loyal fan base and brought about great expectations for this album. For those who asked, Would it be as honest, as true? The answer is yes.

Everyone’s fave Swede is back at it with his sophomore release, In Our Nature. Banking yet again on his tranquil acoustics and reverberating lyrics, this newest offering from José González is showing a steady rise in his talent. In Our Nature is a gentle, eloquent collection of songs that echo the same deep intimacy and softness of his earlier offerings, yet is somehow transcendent in a more deeply meaningful way with a fuller, more orchestrated sound. It’s as if González has turned smarty-pants and skipped a grade in music school, really.

While melancholy and slightly brooding at times, In Our Nature is, overall, a deeply sensual and satisfying listen. The songs, playing well against each other in this exquisitely arranged and strongly produced album, each offer a different shade of sound. The abundance of beautiful arrangements and lyrics are evident in songs such as “How Low” (a slightly politically charged track), “Killing For Love” (a more deeply paced track with emotionally inquisitive lyrics), “Teardrop” (the finest ballad in the lot that plumes and lushly unfolds like a ‘70s-inspired ethnic ballad), “Abram” (a charming and uplifting jaunt) and “Time To Send Someone Away” (which, at moments, makes me think Nick Drake could have written it). All in all, if you want another González hit, then In Our Nature will be sure to please.