Since music has launched into the digital realm, mashups are becoming an increasingly popularly genre. While the hip-hop world has been sampling other artists’ music for decades, the concept of using an array of samples to create a complete song is still relatively new. Many music aficionados scoff at the idea as being a kitschy imitation of the original artist’s work—a mere overlaying of tracks upon tracks involving little musicality. However, I would argue that to produce a quality mashup (yes, there is such a thing) takes not only a intimate knowledge of the mechanics of music but a deep musical catalog that involves years of cultivation.

The sophomore release, DETH, from Later Babes is a perfect example of this. Sampling anything from Halls & Oats to 1979 soul hits like Peaches & Herb to the Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop” to rappers I have never even heard of to 80s staples like “Take on Me,” Later Babes have produced a well rounded, interesting album. Not only does the album that not only holds your attention for its entire 50 minutes, it moves in such a way that you hardly realize that time is moving forward. Where some mashups feel rushed and tease the listener with only a brisk riff from a song, Later Babes managed to provide just enough of that catchy hit to sing along to without letting it become boring. Later Babes, which includes members from Sioux Falls groups Soulcrate Music and We All Have Hooks for Hands, also incorporates live keyboards and drums, a touch that provides additional continuity throughout the album.

Whether you need a new workout album, are looking for some music for a backyard rave, are planning a road trip playlist, or just enjoy geeking out and testing your music knowledge, DETH delivers on all these fronts plus some. The album will be available on the band’s BandCamp.

Raised by parents who were never shy about sneaking their children into a smoky bar to catch a gritty live performance, I have a hard time remembering if it was my mother or my father who turned me on to the blues. Coming at them from completely opposite directions—my mother with her country music and honky-tonk roots, while my father’s music collection was imbued with Motown R&B and jazz—the blues seemed to complete my circle of musical progression.

That being said, I am increasingly skeptical of up-and-coming bands professing their command of that classic bluesy rock ‘n’ roll sound. I have sat through too many cover band bar performance ending in “Free Bird” to know that there are far too many young men who think they have what it takes to be the next Stevie Ray Vaughn. Fortunately, the newcomers to the budding Pittsburgh music scene, Coronado, seem to be above that. Their first full-length self-titled album is a cool blend of fuzzy rock and southern blues with a complete retro feel.

Their band page on Facebook could read as homage to Harry Nilsson, but the group is far grittier than the classic Nilsson sound, an aspect that could be one of their greatest strengths. Coronado is not without its shallow moments, which is to be expected for a first release of a young band. In particular, “The Souza Show,” with tejano trumpets and impudent lyrics, feels exaggerated. Yet, Coronado is at it’s best in it’s most delicate moments—tracks such as “the Great Divide” and “Lay Me Down” juxtapose subtly sensitivity lyrical moments with the band’s bristly sound.

But more importantly, this debut album proves that Coronado is more than just a pool hall band whose discography consists solely of under produced live albums. Instead they provide a crisp, new take on a classic sound, without coming off as another garage band imitation. Certainly $5 well spent via their Bandcamp page.

During this last year, I have had the unique opportunity to spend the entire year aboard which means that I have been rather isolated from the hub of the celebrity music world. I missed the passing of Etta James, Davy Jones of the Monkees, and Whitney Houston. I never caught any of the tweets surround the reuniting of the Spice Girls for the Olympics in London and I never had to suffer through the hype surrounding “Call Me Maybe.”

Thankfully, though, music has gone digital and even during my foreign hiatus, I have still been able to keep myself connected to the indie music world. This year brought a handful of new releases from indie greats—Of Montreal, Andrew Bird, The Shins, The Mars Volta, M. Ward, Jack White, Regina Spektor, Animal Collective, David Byrne & St. Vincent, the Avett Brothers, Cat Power, the xx, Old Crow Medicine Show, Mumford & Sons, Calexico, and even No Doubt. However, in my opinion, 2012 was an even greater year for the rising stars of indie music. Although many of the artists gracing my top 10 list this year are not exactly new to the scene, they have managed to provide a fresh, yet lasting impression on this ever expanding musical landscape.

Way Too Indie’s Best Albums of 2012

#1 Kishi Bashi – 151a
This album still manages to blow me away, even after having it for months. In fact, it is the first entire album to make my top played list. 151a is a complete 35-minute aural experience between the listener and a musician equipped only with a violin, his voice, and a looping machine. With ethereal lyrics and beautiful, intimate riffs, Kishi Bashi’s debut is one that will set the standard for music in the years to come.

#2 Hurray for the Riff Raff – Look Out Mama
What do you get when you combine a transient Puerto Rican New Yorker, a transgendered drummer, and a honky-tonk band and mix them with the vibrant world of New Orleans’ music? Hurray for the Riff Raff and their newest release Look Out Mama. One part old time, bayou ho-down and one part rockabilly, with a pinch of 1960’s fuzzy surfer rock, Look Out Mama is a sunny day sound track and an incomparable showcase of Alynda Lee Segarra’s exemplary vocals.

#3 Alabama Shakes – Boys & Girls
Produced by Andrija Tokic (who also produced Look Out Mama) the Alabama Shakes are a pleasant reminder of how great those rocking, southern blues can be. Lead singer Brittany Howard carries the album with her hearty, soulful vocals. She is backed by an extremely talented and consistent band, which manages to display a great amount of musical maturity for their first release. Clearly, they have been doing their homework and Boys & Girls is the perfect testament.

#4 Sharon Van Etten – Tramp
With one of most haunting and distinctive voice in music today, Sharon Van Etten’s newest release, Tramp, has not lost the anguish of her earlier albums. However, it feels although she spent these last two years polishing those sentiments and the result is an eloquent display of human emotion.

#5 Dan Deacon – America
For someone who is normally not a fan of electronic music, Dan Deacon’s America broke all of my expectations for the ringleader of the DIY dance club world. Self-described as “electro-acoustic,” America is a “fluid blend of the rigid perfection found in electronic music and the indistinct irregularities that come from the humanization of music.” Deacon accomplished what he set out to do, to capture the essence of America in a single record, a feat I never thought possible, especially from a techo-guy.

#6 Andrew Bird – Hands of Glory
A throw back to his early days as Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire, Hands of Glory is the fiddle companion EP to the violin pop of Bird’s earlier 2012 release Break It Yourself. In my opinion, this is Bird at his finest—he has dropped his Cheshire cat persona to focus on the music above enigmatic lyrics. The result is a well-balanced, engaging album to revive your love in Bird just as it was beginning to fade.

#7 Cat Power – Sun
Chan Marshall is back, ladies and gentlemen, and proving that she can still produce a powerful album. Sun breaks Marshall’s long hiatus and offers a side of Cat Power that has remained relatively unexplored in her previous recordings. “Plugged-in and propelled by driving beats and backing vocals, the album is refreshing, confident, and cogitative. Marshall has cut much of the angst that so readily defined her earlier music and the result is eleven tracks with a surprising sense of coherence.”

#8 Macklemore & Ryan Lewis – The Heist
Storming the music charts in early October, Seattle MC, Macklemore, and his producer, Ryan Lewis, brought a new edge to hip-hop with their album the Heist. Touching on a wide range of topics from addiction to shopping at thrift shops to consumerism to gay marriage to their loathing with the recording industry, the Heist in a bold yet sensitive contemporary commentary. Musically, it highlights some of the finest indie talent on the west coast, making it equally as impressive as it is lyrically stirring.

#9 Justin Townes Earle – Nothing’s Gonna Change the Way You Feel About Me Now
There is a very fine line between country music worth listening to and country music that the world would be better without, but to Justin Townes Earl that line has never existed. Instead there is just music and for JTE, it happens to come in a blend of blues, folk, and a good bit of Americana country. His fifth release is a pleasant reminder that JTE is capable of holding his own as a recording artist, not to be deterred by his turbulent lifestyle or the overbearing presence of his famous father.

#10 Ty Segall – Twins
The last minute addition to this list, I will be very upfront with the fact that I am hardly familiar with this seemingly prolific artist. Regardless, this album rocks—straight up, head banging, grungy, garage-style rocking. It brings you back to those early days when you first stepped away form your parent’s soft-rock CD collection and started to explore edgier alternatives. More so, Segall is able to achieve this high energy without screaming and screeching or causing the onset of an epileptic fit. Bravo!

Honorable Mentions

Tame Impala – Lonerism
Another last minute addition to this list, Lonerism is the sophomore release of the Australian psychedelic rock group. These guys take the genre beyond the traditional 1970s feel and leave you lost in the music, dreading the moment the album ends.

∆ – An Awesome Wave
If I could predict the next direction for indie pop in a post-Animal Collective world, these guys would be it. Although I am hardly a fan of the stylization of artists, albums, and song titles, ∆ (Alt-J after the Mac command for the symbol) delivered an innovative album that is as charming as it is eccentric.

Mati Zundel – Amazonico Gravitante
Although I never touch on indie music beyond the English-speaking world, this last album is just too good to not mention—so here’s my one pick from my beloved genre of Alt-Latino. Released on the preeminent Argentinean ZZK Records label, Amazonico Graviante combines the traditional folkloric Latino rhythms, such as cumbia, with modern electro-beats. In doing so, Zundel created an album that will define Alt-Latino music for years to come, not to mention the perfect soundtrack for anyone backpacking through Central and South America.

Sometimes being able to eat your own words in a nice feeling. It a recent feature piece about the merger between Universal Music Group and EMI, I noted that the iTunes Top Ten chart is almost exclusive to artists signed onto one of the three major record labels. Well, it looks like a west coast MC, Macklemore, and his producer, Ryan Lewis, wanted to change that up a little bit. And they did so their newest release, the Heist, which soared to the top of the charts within hours of its release.

A showcase of Seattle’s greatest indie talent, this album is an intermixing of a stellar cast of vocalists, musicians, and fellow MCs to deliver a complete and brilliant album. It is cheeky, it is sensitive, it is political, it is introspective, it is heavy, and it is so addictive.

As I am always a sucker for music with a message, I was first drawn to Macklemore & Ryan Lewis with their release of the single “Same Love,” a hip-hop ballad that takes a strong stance in support of the Marriage Equality Act in Washington State. A commentary on the hip-hop community’s relationship towards gay rights, Macklemore makes a conspicuous statement regarding his feelings on the issue, yet does so in such a delicate way, that one cannot help but sympathize. Backed by the tenacious vocals of Mary Lambert, this track is undoubtedly set to become an anthem for future generations and the most memorable moment of the Heist.

However, it would be all too easy and narrow-minded to simply call this album a message driven, ideological one. Sure, Macklemore is infamous for addressing the concerns of the traditional hip hop community—urban poverty, racism, consumerism—while working out his personal position within that as a white MC. Yet, with the Heist, he has come to a well-balanced variety of topics, from souring love, the northwest lifestyle, newfound fame, his continual battle with addiction, and even a country-esque drinking anthem. Take the viral single, “the Thrift Shop” featuring Wanz, which successfully replaces the tenderness of “Same Love” with brazen, cocky lyrics. Between ripping on Gucci tees and begging for your grandpa’s hand-me-downs, it is so catchy that even my bachata-loving, Spanish speaking roommate loves it.

Shortly after the release of the Heist, a series of posts appeared on Macklemore’s facebook page thanking and praising his fans for their gracious support in the success of this record. It is a rare moment in the recording world that such recognition and adoration are as warranted as they are with the Heist. It leaves one to hope that with such feelings, Macklemore open the eyes of his newfound fans to something beyond the narrow scope of Top 40 charts, while staying true to his DIY roots.

There has been a lot of news lately about the youtube video “The Innocence of Muslims” and the consequential “muslim rage” that has follow. Well, I am here to tell you that I may have stumbled across the album equivalent. Fortunately, fanatical indie music zealots are not prone to sudden outburst of violence. Praise be to Sonic Youth.

The album in question is In My G4 Over Da Sea is the work of Psycosis, a DJ who goes by moniker “Neutral Bling Hotel.” If you have not put it all together yet, the whole album is a series of mashups combining the tracks of Neutral Milk Hotel’s idyllic album, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, with the likes of Kanye West, NAS, Jay-Z, and that guy who wants to teach you how to “dougie.” Whatever that means.

Now, I try not to be too dogmatic when it comes to my musical preferences, but I would be lying if I were to say that In the Aeroplane Over the Sea is not near and dear to my heart. However, I also love mashups and not just in a guilty pleasure sort of way. From the mega-mashups of Girl Talk or Later Babes to more conceptual albums like DJ Danger Mouse’s the Grey Album, I find well done mashups both interesting and enjoyable. I am not even opposed to mashups involving the Holy Grail of indie music – back when DJ Danger Mouse was known as Pelican City, he did a great remix of the Neutral Milk Hotel track “the Fool.” That track was fresh and original, whereas the efforts of Neutral Bling Hotel feel void of any such qualities.

Even at Neutral Bling Hotel’s best moment, such as the tracks “My 1^st Airplane” or “Miami, 1981,” when he does more than simply overlay songs with matching beats per minutes, there is not a single track that supersedes the original songs. This only caters to the critics of mashups, who claim that these songs lack the artistry possessed by originals. If you have ever had the opportunity to see DJs such as Girl Talk perform, you understand that such criticism is severely limiting. Yet, when listening to an album like In My G4 Over Da Sea it is easy understand the source of the condemnation.

On a side note, someone needs to enlighten Psycosis that breast implants went out of fashion in the early nineties. Even when spoofing, they have no place on classic album covers. The sacrilege!

Hello, my name is Whitni Ciofalo and I have a confession to make. I download music from the Internet, illegally and religiously. I guess I started when I was in high school, or maybe even middle school. You know how the story goes, it started innocently with Napster and over the years I just sort of lost control of myself. I know what I am doing is wrong, but I guess I have never had to directly deal with the implications. Now that I am living abroad and with the accessibility of easy downloading methods, I just cannot help myself…

I have another confession to make, I am seriously jealous of the historian of the future. Not only will they not have to live through the Tea Party Revolution, they will also have the opportunity to critique the digitalization of music with an impartiality that I could never have. The legality debate, which is now spanning decades, opened a new chapter last week, with the merger of Universal Music Group (UMG) and EMI record labels.

Contrary to the claims lawsuits that defined the noughties, major record labels have scarcely suffered since music went digital. Recent figures show that the four label giants, UMG, Warner Music Group (WMG), Sony, and EMI, make up ninety percent of the current market. With some really simple math and the most basic definition of independent music, that means that Way Too Indie should only be covering ten percent of the music produced by market value. (It becomes a little more complicated when you factor in the fact that WMG owns forty-nine percent of such beloved indie labels as Sub Pop.)

When you combine the powers of UMG and EMI, they account for nearly forty percent of the market. In the fictional world of musical democracy, that would be an uncontestable win. In blogosphere, it would be tagged under juggernaut.  As for the real world, it is unlikely that this will bode well for music fans and independent musicians.

Let me break this down for you. Not only are Taylor Swift, Will.I.Am, Mumford & Sons, Justin Bieber, the Killers, and Rihanna now on the same label as David Bowie, Daft Punk, Gorillaz, Hot Chip, LCD Soundsystem, the Smiths, Röyksopp, and Talking Heads, but the newly formed UMG-EMI group now stands to be a formidable force when it comes to the handling of music sales.

Hypothetically speaking, lets say that UMG-EMI goes into 2013 with forty percent market control. Independent labels will make up a mere ten percent, and for argument sake, Sony and WMG split the remaining fifty percent equally. If we were to take the top ten singles according to iTunes for September 24^th 2012, EVERY SINGLE ONE was released by one of the four major record labels or a label owned by them. Even worse, seven of the top ten singles were released by UMG-EMI.

Now say you are running a startup company resembling Spotify, Pandora, or even iTunes in its infancy. To be competitive, you will have to secure the rights to music that people are actually listening to. Musical tastes aside, if you have any desire to be a profitable business, you will be catering to the major labels. No, scratch that, you will be bending over backwards for UMG-EMI. All credit may be given to the Federal Trade Commission.

If all of this sounds like quixotic economics rant, my apologies. But chances are if you are still reading this, you are probably doing so while streaming music online or listening to a $0.99 single purchased on iTunes. Please pause and enjoy the moment.

Because Spotify, Pandora, iTunes will now be answering to the whims and wishes of UMG-EMI and that could mean the end of affordable music apps and digital downloads. Here’s to hoping the economy turns around and a rebirthing of FM radio, as your music dependency could get real expensive in the very near future.

As for the world of independent music, the outcome appears to be even more dismal. In a recent NPR interview, Chris Taylor of Grizzly Bear commented on how royalties from online music sales are so watered down by the time they reach the hands of musicians, the real beneficiaries are the music streaming companies and the major labels. That capitalization on the work of artists is only going to increase under this newly monopolized market. If you would like a visualization for that horrid fact, I think this one, albeit being two years old, summarizes it quite accurately. Otherwise, the Oatmeal nailed it with this more comical interpretation.

So where does that leave us? Well, lets go back to my opening confession. I am not about to advocate following me down the path of criminal behavior, especially considering that not all of you are privileged to living beyond the jurisdiction of United States copyright laws. Instead I would like to pose an alternative approach, while adding a caveat to my previous statement. Yes, I do download albums illegally. However, I can also say that I paid for physical, tangible copies of four of the last six albums I reviewed. The other two were deleted after I finished the reviews.

I am in full support of previewing an album, in its entirety–I like to equate it to test driving a new car or trying on a pair of pants before you buy them. Yet, I do not think that it is unreasonable to ask that we show the musicians that we love a little respect by buying their sound-track-to-your-summer or post-break-up-savior album. Think of it as a symbiotic relationship between you and the musician. While you are nursing that relationship, do it a favor and cut out the middleman. It costs you the same to download an album from bandcamp, the artist’s personal website, or from iTunes, but the latter is shaving a larger personal profit off the top.

The future of indie music will thank you, although UMG-EMI probably will not.

My first introduction to Cat Power was as a high school senior, clothe in graphic tees and anxious to desert the Midwest. I was still trying to get over New Found Glory, listening to downloaded singles on a first generation iPod, and desperately longed to put an edge on my musical tastes. I had dabbled in the post-punk revival of the 2000s, pretended to love ska and emo, and went through phases where I truly believed that music was only worth listening to if it was abrasive and came with a parental advisory. Yet, some how in the shambles of my adolescence, a burned copy of You Are Free found its way into my CD case. The album provided a moment of clarity in my musical crapshoot, grounding me with its lo-fi blues that were perfectly directed at my teenage malaise. There began my relationship with Chan Marshall, the face behind Cat Power.

Marshall, who is now forty, released her ninth studio album, Sun, the first full-length recording of personal material in years. The stories floating around the writing of the album only added to the anticipation of its long overdue release. Known for her struggles with addiction, depression, and stage fright, she had fashioned herself as a modern day train wreck who taunted fans, canceled shows, and would frequently appear too intoxicated to perform.

As early as 2006, statements from Marshall were floating around claiming that Sun was already written. However, it took six more years and an unanticipated breakup with Giovanni Ribisi for Sun to finally come to completion. “I cut my hair off three days later, got on a plane to France, and finished the shit,” stated Marshall in a recent interview with the Stool Pigeon.

Sun exhibits a newfound maturity, reaching a complexity unknown in previous Cat Power recordings. In doing so, Marshall is moving beyond her cult following of yesteryears. Plugged-in and propelled by driving beats and backing vocals, the album is refreshing, confident, and cogitative. Marshall has cut much of the angst that so readily defined her earlier music and the result is eleven tracks with a surprising sense of coherence.

In the existential track “Real Life,” Marshall proclaims, “real life is ordinary / sometimes you don’t wanna live/ sometimes you got to do what you don’t wanna do / to get away with an unordinary life.” Staying true that conviction, in the following song “Human Being,” Marshall goes on to declare, “when I say, I know the way, I’m only trying / No, don’t nobody know where the road to life is really lying.” This lucidity that Marshall seems to have found comes after eleven years of publicly displaying herself at one’s weakest moments and in that, it is well deserved.

Some of her ardent devotees, who, like me, are prone to months of long binges on the melancholy ballads of earlier releases, will find themselves longing for the vintage and familiar sound of Cat Power. But Sun is still vocally as rich as anything that Marshall has released previously. There is nothing wrong with a little guidance and direction, and there is never a moment in Sun that feels strained or overwrought, which Marshall can become in her worst moments. Nor is this revamping completely outside the realm of Marshall’s prototypical sound, as it parallels moments such as the track “He War,” on the 2003 album You Are Free. At no point in the career of Cat Power did Marshall promise us stability and there is nothing to criticize in catching one’s stride late in the game and running with it.

Outside of the normal sphere of my musical tastes, my first attraction to Dan Deacon’s newest album America was not the music but the concept behind the album. I had stumbled across his website while perusing in the internet one afternoon and was captivated by the opening statement found there.

I should preface this all with saying that I tend to be a bit of a purist and nostalgist. That is, I long for the days when musicians’ aim was on the full album not just on releasing a strong, radio-worthy single with some supporting songs. Some of my most enjoyable moments with music have come when lying on the floor listening to old Motown records while reading the liner notes. The world can say what they want regarding an album or a specific track, but there is something fervent about knowing the feelings of a musician towards their own work.

What Deacon described as the inspiration for America struck a personal chord with me. By the final paragraph it did not matter if his newest album was death metal or pop country, I was enthralled. Deacon himself describes the word America as “a word with an infinite range of connotations, both positive and negative.” He then goes on to state that the album America “is layering of dichotomies: light and dark, acoustic and synthetic, celebration and contemplation.” To Deacon, this is an album centered on a concept, the concept of the present realities of his country that he both loves and questions.

In the recording world, Deacon is known for his previous electro-dance focus albums. An ardent support of the Occupy Wall Street movement, he was responsible for the Union Square dance party involving thousands of protesters and has the viral youtube video “Drinking Out of Cups” to his credit. But beyond frivolous, dance club infused persona, Deacon a student of music composition.  He describes his music now as “electro-acoustic,” a fluid blend of the rigid perfection found in electronic music and the indistinct irregularities that come from the humanization of music.

If Deacon’s true intentions were to capture the contradistinction described in his attempt at digitalized liner notes, America has done that and more. It is loud and it is noisy, yet it has moments where it can be subdued and delicate. It is hurried and it is frantic, but not without distinct moments of prolonged clarity. And it is automated and it is simulated, while still maintaining it’s organic and genuine nature. From the orchestral focused piece “USA,” a four part movement that plays like a musical mapping of the United States, to the pop influenced riffs of “Prettyboy,” America is a diverse yet cohesive album.

During a recent interview, Deacon expressed his love for absolute music or music without any meaning attached to it beyond its musical ideas. America appears to be the antithesis of that, programmed music with an explicit purpose. Yet it is only blatant in its dichotomies, making America as personal and individualized as its namesake. My only hope is that when I come back to the county that so greatly inspired Deacon, the copy America that awaits me will contains a hard transcript of the online liner notes that moved me to listen to this album.

Being a musician is tough work. The hours might trounce the average nine to five, but not having a steady paycheck and life on the road can really ware on a person. Then there is the whole musical, artistic aspect of the trade. Not only do you have to create something that you are proud of personally, but you are constantly held to the whims and desires of fans and critics. Critics by their nature will always demand something new and inventive, like the pestering college professor with unrealistic expectations. Fans, on the other hand, will only love you for what you did before and often detest anything that is out of their comfort zone. “You win some, you lose some,” the saying goes. Yet in the world of a musician, there is seldom a winning record.

With their sophomore album, Coexist, the xx seeks to strike the perfect balance between those two dipolar expectations. After their debut in 2009, the xx left the world convinced that after all these years we had been missing something – the sparse, haunting sexiness found on their first album xx. Three years later, Coexist is a pleasant public service announcement reminding us of that. The vocals of Romy Madley-Croft and Oliver Sim compliment the raw lyrics effortlessly. Juxtaposed with the dubstep beats of Jamie xx née Smith, the album is beautiful in its limitedness. If what you were looking for was an extension of the album you fell in love with three years ago, there will be no disappointment. If anything, Coexist is even more polished and refined, the perfection of an accomplished oeuvre.

However in that, there is still an emptiness to be found. Coexist is almost indistinguishable from xx, and it leaves you with an unfulfilling feeling. It is almost as if the xx is playing it safe, hesitant to deviate too far from the norm and push their limits. There are plenty of clichés that your grandfather or a self-help book could interject here about failure, mediocrity, and success. But I feel the band summed it up best themselves in the track “Sunset.” “I always thought it was a shame,” croons Madley-Croft, “that we have to play these games / It felt like you really knew me / Now it feels like you see through me.” Heartache is not exclusive to the world of lovers and sweethearts, it plagues musicians and their audience as well. That is the bittersweet splendor of it all.

Every so often an artist comes along that leaves you craving for more. Chances are that your life will now be defined around the exact moment you first heard their music, a moment that will the precipice of what music can and cannot be. Although, it might not be clear at the moment what exactly you are experiencing, but looking back, it will forever be a fond moment when music transcended into a new and alluring world.

For me, this moment came with the single “Bright Whites” off of first full-length record of Kishi Bashi, 151a. Dubbed as the next song to grace the world of hip commercials, I hardly anticipated a complete album that would leave me with yearning for anything and everything that ever flowed from this man’s fingers. Armed with a violin, his voice, and a looping machine, 151a is a world of music infinity within a finite space. Within this space, I found a musical world that begged me to return, time and time again.

Kishi Bashi is the nom de plume of K Ishibashi, the accomplished multi-instrumentalist know for playing with Regina Spektor, Jupiter One, and most recently, of Montreal. A classically trained violinist, who rivals Andrew Bird on a good day, he is the son of Japanese parents and briefly attended Cornell University’s College of Engineering before the Berklee School of Music. As for 151a, what Ishibashi has done is beyond comparison to any previous acts. From the opening track to the final one, a complex yet delicate mixture of sounds, textures, and intimate lyrics captivates you. At points, it is hard to imagine that only one man is responsible for the music you are experiencing.

151a takes its title from the Japanese maxim “one time, one meeting,” a theme the seems to be reiterated throughout the lyrics of the album. True to chamber-pop form, this is an album focused on love in the epic proportions. Amid the layers upon layers of violin and beatbox percussion, Kishi Bashi fashions a love story that spans the entire album. “It started with a word and it started pretty well,” lulls the beginning of the track “Manchester”, only to declare with such confidence, “I haven’t been this in love in a long time.” Then in the empyreal second to the last track, “I Am the Antichrist to You”, Ishibashi once again overtly states this adoring love that is the centerpiece of the album. “I am the antichrist to you, fallen from the sky with grace into your arms,” he writes, as if to say that this beautiful chaos of life and love will never be as great or as destructive as it is between you and me.

Perhaps, a statement such as that can never fully be expressed through words alone, the point where art or music alone is left to fill the void.

In the world where hipsters are the new frat boys and indie rock has gone mainstream, Walk the Moon is in their true niche. It could even be fair to say that this band is the conclusive link between the two. Maybe it’s harsh, but some bands just make you want to pump that fist while wearing clear lens wayfarers and neon tanks.

The group is native to Cincinnati, which could be considered to be the metaphorical roots of present day American cultural sinkhole. There is nothing edgy, individual, or interesting of Middle America with its suburban wasteland and the same could be said about Walk the Moon’s self titled album. It is a scanty mixture of power pop riff, with a dash of synth rock, topped off with a meager splash of some funky beats, and sprinkled with lead singer Nicholas Petricca’s overdone falsettos. All is this is piled on each other in a heap of digitalized music clutter that is relentlessly bombarding you with its ostentation. After a decade of groups such as Franz Ferdinand, Snow Patrol, Fall Out Boy, the Killers, Panic! at the Disco, Empire of the Sun, Fun., etc. this album hardly cuts it as original, let alone qualifies as indie music.

As it is uninteresting musically, lyrically this album leaves much to be desired. I will be the first to admit that music often services as the language of romance. All of us, at some point in our lives, have wanted to break out in song in an effort to express our current infatuation with life and/or one of its inhabitants. But delivery is key, and once again, Walk the Moon falls short in that regard. Each track seems to be an ode to the weekend’s latest hook up, with little discernment and resolve. There is little romance in a ballad that starts out “my eyes are on the road / but my mind is on your body,” only to implore “won’t you stay shotgun until the day I die,” such as the track “Next in Line”.

There is a reason, however, that the music industry has made millions on pop rock groups and why we all secretly smile when the party mix cuts to Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing”. Music that is danceable and catchy, regardless of how kitschy it may be, feels good to listen to. Call it a cheap thrill or a guilty pleasure, it will always be hard to resist the urge to groove along to songs such as “Shiver Shiver” or “Anna Sun” when they come up on your hipster buddy’s road trip playlist. But hey, that’s why we keep hanging out with them, right?

In the age of bandcamp, myspace, and endless access to digital music, the wilderness for the singer/songwriter is becoming more ominous. That is to say, making a memorable album, one that survives being shuffled into an iTunes library and can endure playlists of favorite songs with the decisive next button, is becoming increasingly difficult. It is even harder if your specialty is generic alt-country. Don Dilego’s newest EP, Western & Atlantic, is the epitome of that very struggle.

Hailing from Adams, Massachusetts, Dilego is no stranger to the world twangy, lyrical story telling. In addition to his work as a solo artist, he is also responsible for the soundtrack to the 2008 feature film, Ranchero, as well as delving into the world of music production. Recorded in a Portland, Oregon, Western & Atlantic marks his return to studio recording after a long hiatus.

American rock has always been a beautiful, mangled mess of blues and country root music, a rich musical tradition that is best capture in with harmonic riff on a steel guitars, crooning vocals, and lyrics of wayward travels, late nights spent drinking away the sorrows of this life, and unrequited love. In that sense, Dilego is a mastermind, fit for the ranks of Jeffy Tweety, Ryan Adams, and Neil Young. Unfortunately, the comparison stops there. Western & Atlantic fails to break away from mediocrity and ends as quietly as it begins. There is no single track that leaves you wanting more. Nor is the album as a whole something you find yourself becoming lost in.

If making a great album was a mathematical formula, Don Dilego certainly did his homework. But it isn’t and consequently requires something beyond the generic and the formulated. Western & Atlantic is a pleasant first listen and makes for nice background music. But is missing that final zest, that unnamable aspect which would set it part in the sea of alt-country, folk rock, singer-song writers and leaves you wanting more.

After the 2010 M.I.A. album /\/\ /\ Y /\, I became weary of over stylized albums. Blame it on my fondness for the English language or, perhaps, on my aversion to juvenile StudlyCaps. Whichever it is, the chance of me picking up tUnE-yArDs’ newest album, w h o k i l l, on my own volition are pretty unlikely. But fate and talk radio stepped in, introducing me to an impressive new and individual take on music.

tUnE-yArd is the brainchild of Merrill Garbus, a New England native. Comprising her music of drum loops combined with a ukulele, bass guitar, and saxophones, Garbus manages to create a huge sound with in a small instrumental space. What really carries the record, however, is her huge voice. The album’s novel blend of lo-fi R&B mixed with poppy afro-beats gives it an almost carefree, estival feel. But there is a force in Garbus’ music, tucked within the funky loops and impressive vocals.

This is Garbus’ second release and her sound is clearly evolving. Her lyrics are provocative from the opening track through the end. The goading of the lyrics reminds us that she is not simply writing her personal narrative, but something more universal. By acknowledging duality that she feels as a woman and as an American, she is confronting what it means to living in a world with limitations. The America that Garbus sings about is raw and brutal. Tackling big issues like gender, body image, race, and human brutality, she confronts society head on. Yet, throughout all of this chaos and hurting Garbus never loses her optimism. She embraces the viciousness of the world around her, the America of the twenty-first century, while still holding it accountable and allowing it room to grow.

Music will forever be a source of social commentary. When it is done with style and esteem, there is the opportunity to create something worth believing in. With this album, Garbus has clearly done that in her own very individualistic way.