The 2001 disc Songs From the West Coast returned Elton John to the piano tang, the discursive tunes and the chewy pop rock that made his Seventies albums indestructible. John and lyricist Bernie Taupin stay the course on this follow-up. Peachtree Road was mostly recorded in Atlanta, where John has a house and where a main thoroughfare helped to inspire the album's title. Midtempo ballads such as "The Weight of the World," where flies buzz in the kitchen, and "Porch Swing in Tupelo," which references various country comforts, portray John as Dixie's premier English-born R&B singer. On "Answer in the Sky," he promises listeners that gloom needn't prevail, even as he acknowledges, per the Nashville-esque breakup stunner "Turn the Lights Out When You Leave," that sometimes people just split to Jacksonville. Peachtree highlights once again just how soulful John's music can be. (JAMES HUNTER)
Vanessa Carlton Harmonium (A&M)
As the Wayans Brothers' movie White Chicks made hilariously clear, Vanessa Carlton's 2002 hit "A Thousand Miles" is, like, the whitest song ever. This year, our huffy ivory-tickler delivers another spazzy, arpeggiated single, "White Houses," which is not about the real White House but does kind of conjure the Bush twins jamming in a drop-top. Smartly produced by Third Eye Blind frontman (and Carlton squeeze) Stephan Jenkins, Harmonium has the appealing empty-auditorium sound of a Fame rehearsal-session finale. And once you get past the "Chopsticks" pounds of "San Francisco," lyrics such as "I know what you did/Like a boy of summer gives his first kiss" could charm Dawson from his creek. But though Carlton's a better lyricist than faded contemporaries such as Michelle Branch, that fussy piano tends to muscle her out of her own songs. It works OK on the Tori Amos-style diary-hurler "Annie," but it's nice when, on the chorus of the boppy "Private Radio," those little hammers get some rest. (LAURA SINAGRA)
Minus Five At the Organ (Yep Roc)
If Young Fresh Fellow, R.E.M. sideman and Minus Five mastermind Scott McCaughey didn't know exactly what he was doing with the world's longest-running side project/joke, it might come across as a worthless vanity act. It isn't. The loosely proficient assembled players (R.E.M.'s Peter Buck, Wilco, the Posies' Ken Stringfellow and Rebecca Gates of Spinanes) combined with McCaughey's indefatigable gift for inanity ("Lyrical Stance") and wonky melody (the de facto title track, "Days of Wine and Booze") showcase his insider, super-rocker status and make you wonder, is everyone enjoying the challenge of recreating Kinks-style village greenery ("Hotel Senator" with Wilco) and smiley art-rock ("Formerly Hail Centurion" and "The Town That Lost Its Groove Supply") or are they just wanking on this seven-song collection of outtakes and remakes? Who cares! Minus Five make music for music's sake; that it's turned out to be McCaughey's most enduring contribution to his own vast catalog is probably as big of a surprise to him as it is to anyone. (DENISE SULLIVAN)
Stroke 9 All In (Rock Ridge Music)
With their song "Little Black Backpack," Stroke 9 immortalized the accessory worn by women everywhere in the late Nineties, but the band's success was as transitory as the trend. More than five years and three albums later, the Bay Area trio is still straddling post-grunge and alt.pop, but they haven't come up with anything as catchy as their hit. The hyper-syncopated rocker "Run Away," followed by a dulcet string section on the melodic "Set You Free" (co-written by ex-Third Eye Blind guitarist Kevin Cadogan) come closest. It's too bad that Stroke 9's jaded Gen X irony is disingenuous. "Faux Gucci Girl," with its white-boy rapping and processed vocals, is meant to be sarcastic but comes off as silly, as does "Rod Beck," a self-indulgent rant over Seventies-sounding synth ("Maybe I'm just desensitized from growing up in a time when I was barraged with action movies and video games.") Their humor is more effective on "Words to Live By," a flurry of jejune rhymes ("Do you believe in fate/Do you watch Blind Date?") answered by a gurgling choir of "Yups" and a hooky chorus, but for the most part you'll be glad the CD clocks in at a brief thirty-seven minutes. (MEREDITH OCHS)
The Only Children Change of Living (Glurp)
The new millennium emo and indie rock communities are still mourning the December 2003 break up of the Anniversary, but ex-members Josh Berwanger (vocals/guitar), James David (bass) and Christian "Janko" Jankowski (drums) are through lamenting. They've started their country supergroup, the Only Children, and their debut album Change of Living captures the Kansas six-piece delivering an Americana-style storybook that's both classic sounding and raw. From the traditional country plaints of "Sky Begins at Home" and "Lonesome Road" to the sun kissed cinder track of "Before It Fades" Change of Living expresses organic and earnest elements of the Only Children's most treasured influences. They're a bit more modest compared to the gritty southern rock of Kings of Leon and not overly ambitious unlike Ryan Adams. Sheryl Crow said it best: A change will do you good. Berwanger and Co. took note. (MACKENZIE WILSON)
Apostle of Hustle Folkloric Feel (Arts & Crafts)
Taking a break from his duties as guitarist of Canadian collective Broken Social Scene, Andrew Whiteman issues the Cuban-inspired debut of his side project Apostle of Hustle. Though there are no ballads of yore as the title Folkloric Feel suggests, Whiteman -- collaborating primarily with multi instrumentalist Julian Brown and drummer Dean Stone (and to a lesser extent his BSS brethren) -- wraps together a genuinely eclectic effort of experimental, indie-pop outings. The title track comes across like a Led Zeppelin desert-session outtake, "Song for Lorca" could be Nick Cave fodder thanks to interlaced dark melodies and dramatic effects, and "Gleaning" is what might happen if you gave Four Tet an acoustic guitar. Thanks to some native instruments there is an organic flavor to Whiteman's work, but ultimately Folkloric Feel travels the same course set by his Scene. (JOLIE LASH)
Cinema Eye Some Nerve (Sound Virus)
On their full-length debut, Cinema Eye bang through nine songs with the intensity of a scud missile. Whether it's Paul Rentler's white-knuckled guitar work, as relentless and precise as a tattoo needle, or Mollie Wells' vocals -- think Sleater-Kinney's Corin Tucker ratcheted up to Code Blue -- Cinema Eye set their sights on annihilation early and don't ever deviate from the plan. And though consistency is good, variety is also the spice of life, so when this Ohio foursome barrels through yet another blitzkrieg of a song, one begins to desperately wish for a little chink in the armor, a little inappropriate laughter at the punk-rock basement party. And then there's the production, which makes it sound like the band is buried under a blanket. Cinema Eye, fierce, smart and armed with songwriting chops, needs a Production Guy (or Gal), but not a full makeover. (MARGARET WAPPLER)
James Yorkston and the Athletes Beyond the River (Domino)
From the opening chords of Just Beyond the River, it's clear that James Yorkston knows how to brood with the best of them. The second album from Yorkston and his band, the Athletes, is a gloriously downcast tribute to the power of understatement and a banjo. Singing just above a monotone, the Scottish musician, who earned wide praise for his 2002 debut, Moving Up Country, creates a sparse, slightly ominous atmosphere reminiscent of his homeland -- you can practically smell the peat moss and feel the warmth of a pub's fireplace. River's mix of traditional songs and Yorkston's own modern folk was produced by Kieran "Four Tet" Hebden; his restrained, delicate treatment couldn't be a more appropriate complement to Yorkston's cohesive, quietly compelling melodies. The songwriter is entirely deserving of comparisons to Nick Drake, that other world-class brooder; while it's a fair comparison, in the annals of poetic despondency, Yorkston deserves an entry all his own. (REBECCA FLINT MARX)
Neko Case The Tigers Have Spoken (Anti)
Neko Case sounds like a true country cowgirl, the kind who wears fringed suede and boots familiar with saddle stirrups. Her strong, impassioned voice embodies what country music is all about -- or was, before Nashville's ugly corporate uprising. She sings with joy, with pathos, with real emotion. No artificial sweetening needed. And she knows how to pick her material; Case hardly ever treads a wrong path, and on The Tigers Have Spoken she's as true as ever to her stylistic muse. One would never guess this New Pornographers member cultivated it in the punk clubs of Washington State and Vancouver. But it makes sense; punk is also about uncompromising authenticity. This unpadded live album, recorded with the Sadies' pedal steel ace John Rauhouse, and friends including Kelly Hogan and Carolyn Marks, adds even more intimacy and directness to her covers (Buffy St. Marie's "Soulful Shade of Blue," Loretta Lynn's "Rated X" and the Shangri-La's "The Train From Kansas City" among them), and her fine originals. (LYNNE MARGOLIS)
Handsome Boy Modeling School White People (Elektra/Atlantic)
In his guise as Chest Rockwell, Prince Paul returns with fellow Handsome Boy headmaster Dan the Automator to deliver bangers such as the Lord Finesse showcase "Rock and Roll (Could Never Hip-Hop Like This) Part 2" and softballs (Jack Johnson's light-loafered "Breakdown"). The standout is "I've Been Thinking," with Cat Power singing, "Slide slide slippity slide/Hip-hop, we won't stop" as sultry as Sade. Meanwhile, the skits keep it realer than reality TV, as Tim Meadows threatens to win a dating-game girl away from rival players RZA and Jay-Z. The clincher: The great De La Soul/Paul reunion track "If It Wasn't for You." (PETER RELIC)