FLOOD

It’s nothing groundbreaking for the now-LA-based group, but “Mutilator”’s explosive yet carefree energy is something listeners have grown to crave uncontrollably between releases.

The name is horrendous and unforgivable, but it’s possible to look past the moniker a little bit when listening to the Portland, Oregon, band’s sophomore record.

For the better part of two decades, Danish four-piece Mew has balanced ethereal soundscapes with poppy sensibilities, creating a uniquely captivating, genre-crossing sound.

Yet while “No Control” acts as the calming comedown after a drug- and booze-addled storm, the album is still fizzing with the excitement of the chaotic night before.

Remember, it’s quality, not quantity.

Though written at the same time as the songs chosen for his debut and captured, like those, at home on his four-track, these hushed compositions were intended solely for his family’s ears.

Nearly six years after the release of his sophomore album “Elvis Perkins in Dearland,” Elvis Perkins has returned with a vastly more minimal third full-length.

By far Title Fight’s most melodic album yet, “Hyperview” offers up a whole new side of the group—still aggressive, but in a very different way.

There is some heart on this album, but nowhere near enough soul.

This fifth full-length is no different, with frontman and songwriter Justin Ringle leading the five-piece through ten tracks of sad majesty.

Opener “Grand Edge, MI” starts off as a gentle, mournful lament before bursting into a bristling, tense existential anthem that’s all feedback guitars, crashing drums, and open wounds.

Anyway, the point is that this second solo album by Radiohead drummer Philip Selway does contain a good deal of heart.

Recorded and mixed in a week by legendary producer Joe Boyd (Pink Floyd, Nick Drake), Robyn Hitchcock’s latest LP—his twentieth solo record in a thirty-plus-year career—is a collection of covers and originals.

This third record from musical duo (and siblings) Angus & Julia Stone wasn’t meant to be.

Yet while the brothers’ compositions are monolithic—and almost monotone—in their post-grunge drudginess, they’re also full of verve.