For Florida's sole remaining sex surrogate, love is a many splintered thing.
It's not just giant companies cashing in on America's defense industry.
How a throwaway idea at the Barkley ad agency became the "Sonic Guys."
A diner's guide to Texas's oldest Mexican restaurants.
Tim O'Reagan
Tim O'Reagan
Lost Highway
The test of any classic album is if it plays as well in the morning with coffee as it does at night with whiskey; in the bedroom or car; in the loud or quiet hours. O'Reagan's debut has been with me in every moment imaginable since it was released on House of Mercy Recordings last year, and properly released by Lost Highway this year. His voice reminds me of something a friend of mine wrote about her aging face—"a wizened disaster"—which is to say that most things get more beautiful with age, but some things, like a drummer-turned-unleashed-crooner, get positively translucent. —Jim Walsh
Various Artists
Duluth Does Dylan Revisited
Spinout Records
Bob Dylan has never shown much regard for his birthplace. After all, the now-65-year-old iconoclast didn't bother to play a show in Duluth until 1999. But as this loving tribute album displays, area musicians don't hold the lack of affection against him. Most contributors to this second volume of Duluth-does-Dylan tracks opt to treat the material fairly straight, including earnest takes on "Masters of War" (Hattie Peterson) and "When the Ship Comes In" (Ol' Yeller). But the two standout offerings throw reverence out the window, with Cloud Cult performing a lovely, ethereal version of "Mr. Tambourine Man," and Retribution Gospel Choir transforming Dylan's cryptic "All the Tired Horses" into an epic funk workout. —Paul Demko
Total Fucking Blood
Blaze the Lord
Freedom From Records
The midterms meant it was a bad year for extremity, so the story goes. Maybe so, but let's not have a return to normalcy in our music, thank you. St. Paul's Total Fucking Blood gave us the comforts of implacable, abstract ferocity, and for that they deserve a grateful nation's thanks. Blaze the Lord's 11 tracks are shorter than my commute and as mesmeric as Brazilian children's television. This is distilled music, everything superfluous blasted away, the exposed remnants blown out to absurd proportion. It sounds like it was recorded in your bathroom. There's a teasingly bleak sense of humor at work (the title track, "You Got Serbed"), perfect for another precarious year in a world adrift. —Geoff Cannon
Story of the Sea
Enjoying Fire
Speakerphone Records
Story of the Sea's debut, Enjoying Fire, is eighth grade. It's pool parties. It's making out for the first time as the sweat forms little tributaries in the bends of your knees. It's nostalgia that encompasses the Reagan era and the Cobain generation. It's bubble gum and burliness. It's sweet hooks and giant riffs. It's xylophones that frolic and rhythms that detonate. Enjoying Fire is all grown-up, too—the kind of grown-up that doesn't need Sears-catalog haircuts or herky-jerky keyboard players to be cool. Instead, it simply relies on its three primary players—Adam Prince, Ian Prince, and John McEwen—to strut its stuff and swallow up the entire room as if it always belonged anyway. Even if frontman Adam Prince is talking about love when he sings, "Maybe we feel that way because we think we should, and that's no good" on "Bubble Gum," you can't help but want to shake off all the kitsch and irony, and rock out like a grownup who isn't afraid of messing up her Cost Cutters coif. —Molly Priesmeyer
Awesome Snakes
Venom
Crustacean Records
Just when you thought internet-dork pseudo-viral D-movie memes had completely destroyed the comedy potential of snake-related activities forever, Annie and Danny from the Soviettes come out with the most aggressively ridiculous local record of the year: a bass-drums duo (plus occasional keyboard) that plays songs largely about snakes and/or things that are awesome. An example of the former: "Snakes vs. Jerks"; an example of the latter: "It Would Be Awesome If We Weren't Here." It sounds like the bastard child of the Adolescents and the B-52's and makes the Ramones' first album seem about as punk as Tarkus. Plus, the cover looks like Motley Crüe's Too Fast for Love as drawn by a 13-year-old. I'm with P.O.S., who prefaces a guest spot ("P.O.S. vs. Awesome Snakes") with a declaration—"I got a name for people who don't like snakes: Fucker." —Nate Patrin
Haley Bonar
Lure the Fox
Afternoon Records
It's hard not to be jealous of Haley Bonar. At 22, she's amassed three albums, rave reviews, and stage time with Neko Case and the Arcade Fire. But one listen to her latest alt-country release, Lure the Fox, and all is forgiven. Bonar's voice is strong beyond her years, backed by soft, lollygagging guitars and gentle drums. Her songs start small, with plodding beats or tinkling piano, and build into lush arrangements full of wailing vocals and passionate chords. "Don't let me give it up," she pleads on the seventh track, a haunting song with morbid overtones. Not to worry, Haley—we're not planning on it. —Mary O'Regan
The God Damn Doo Wop Band
Broken Hearts
Afternoon Records