The Long Winters
Putting the Days to Bed

If you don't have satellite radio or the free time to sniff through the web, it's extremely easy to forget what really good music sounds like. In most cities terrestrial radio is a god-awful mess of absurdly limited playlists oozing with the latest dreck and mold-ridden classics. Philly is hands down the worst (except for the venerable WXPN), unless you love Ozzy or need to be welcomed to the jungle every hour on the hour.

It's depressing. You just want to give up on music altogether and flip on talk or sports radio so you can hear Anthony from Darby bash McNabb and marvel at his ability to put a letter "t" at the end of the word "cousin."

Thankfully, there is some succor for those who desperately need a healthy dose of uplifting, feel-good euphony.

"Putting the Days to Bed" by The Long Winters is a joyous reminder of what well-made pop rock should sound like, bursting with creative arrangements and the effusive and commanding vocals of John Roderick, who can effortlessly sell each emotion better than any vocalist in the biz. The band — equal parts playful and serious — quashes any hint of pretense and just pumps out stellar, sparkling tuneage that brings to mind everything from Sgt. Pepper's era Beatles to the latest from The Pernice Brothers. Adding to the grandeur, Roderick has a deft touch with his words and phrasing — poetry I dare say — the kind the everyman can easily grasp and fully appreciate.

It's difficult to pick a standout track with the instant sing-along-ability of "Pushover" to the hushed beauty of "Clouds," but "Ultimatum," in all its vibrant, slightly over-the-top glory, takes the cake. This is a song for the ages. Please note Winterheads, this is a different, livelier version than the more ballad-like cut on the 2005 EP. Either way, "Ultimatum" is a soul-pleasing classic.

The Lemonheads
The Lemonheads

When you've been away from the game for a while doing lord knows what, it's good to come back guns-a-blazin', armed with the pop-rock know-how that made you a veritable indie rock god in the early 90s. Evan Dando is back and backed by the best rhythm section in the history of punk rock, Bill Stevenson (drums) and Karl Alvarez (bass) of Descendents fame. The result is a top-notch collection of songs that should easily placate Lemonhead fans of old and attract many new ones with just one listen. "Black Gown" and "Pittsburgh" let you know from the get-go that Dando is serious about his music again.

Speaking of the past (and I do often), let's just forget that Dando was the poster boy for the dreamy 90s alterna-rocker. And since we're all about forgetting (and forgiving), that cringe-inducing cover of "Mrs. Robinson" never existed, capiche? We should remember that Dando, despite all his weirdness, unwashed good looks and substance problems, is a bona fide talent who pens simple yet clever pop songs and serves them up with the just right mixture of welcoming mellowness and wry menace. This new CD harkens back to the perkiness and sly humor of "It's a Shame about Ray" and the fuzzy darkness of Lovey — still the best Lemonheads album to date. Trust me.

Please folks, let's also give it up for the mighty J Mascis who was kind enough to add his other-worldly guitar chops to the magnificent "No Backbone." Mascis, Stevenson, Alvarez and Dando all on one song? Hallelujah! That is a true "Super Group" (and no creepy, little, obsequious, sell-out Dave Navarro prancing about).

Best Indie Pop Song...

David Bazan
"How I Remember"

Perky is not usually associated with the former Pedro The Lion mastermind, but it seems this spiritual fellow added a little caffeine to his diet and the result is quite stimulating. Going it alone in a home studio, Bazan serves up a lovely (and slightly morbid) little ditty with a so-simple-its-brilliant retro keyboard riff and the hypnotic chorus, "That's how I remember." So simple, so perfect.

Best Cover Song...

Bouncing Souls
"Better Things"

Any good fan of East Coast punk in the past two decades could spot a Bouncing Souls song on the first word sprung from the mouth of vocalist Greg Attonito. The pitch-perfect, insanely melodic poppiness of his delivery has inspired numerous frontmen over the years who realized growling like an angry mutt isn't the only way to deliver an NYC-style punk song. This classic cover is the perfect vehicle to showcase his pipes and let everyone know The Kinks were much, much more than "Lola" and that song we hear every Christmas.

Best Blast of Hardcore...

I Farm
"Land of The Lost"

While not evoking the loveable images of Marshall Will and Holly like I was hoping for, this magnificent blast of ferocity with its pummeling drumming, perfectly executed tempo shifts and barking aggro vocals will put a big smile on the grimacing faces of hardcore purists. The entire record is amazing.

Suburbanite
Suburbanite

You know that movie where the spy guy has that crazy car chase scene in some Europen city where he is driving a Mini Cooper at a break-neck pace, then slams on the breaks, changes direction and flies down alleys backwards and — correct me if I'm wrong — up the side of a building or two. Then without breaking a sweat, he repeats the bad-ass moves in a variety of inventive ways, all in a breath-taking, frenetic manner. That's kind of how I feel listening to Suburbanite.

"Frame at the Faults" and "Smile for the Camera" kick off the CD with a serious bang and some free-form riffing, making damn sure to zig everywhere you expect a song to predictably zag. The melodic mayhem continues at a nice clip, culminating with the rollicking "One, Twice, Vice." It's an enjoyable ride if somewhat ehausting ride. While the boys are quite exceptional performing the unexpected with top-notch musicianship, their simplified "Card House" is the perfect mid-record respite. It reigns in all the elements and creates a clean sound with the acoustic strumming standing out strongly amid chaos. The supremely satisfying "Comforting Pressure" ends the trip peacefully with the feeling of a successful, late-night get-away. It's a bit trite for a reviewer to say, but this CD does indeed get better and better with every listen and feels more cohesive. A must for fans of dig Bear vs Shark, Hey Mercedes, Texas is the Reason and Jimmy Eat World.

Best New Rock Anthem...

None More Black
"We Dance On The Ruins Of The Stupid Stage"

Remember way back when that popular puss-metal band boo-hooed about missing "Home Sweet Home" and you just wanted to smack the lip gloss and eye shadow off their dumb clown faces? Of course you do, it's impossible to feel bad for a mega-selling band that makes millions dishing out sinfully bad music in between banging slut-gutted groupies. It is much easier sympathizing with hard-working, self-effacing blokes with day jobs who rock out in their free time and can write a killer song (with a killer sing-a-long chorus) about their true passion with tongues planted firmly in cheeks. You definitely want to buys these lads a beer or two when they come through your town. You dig NMB? Then you must check out New Mexican Disaster Squad and Shook Ones.

Best Alt-Country...

Drag The River
It's Crazy

What do veteran punks do when they retire from the scene? They move to Colorado, grow a lot of hair and get back to their countrified roots. Armchair Martian's Jon Snodgrass, All's front man Chad Price and Casey Prestwood from Hot Rod Circuit have teamed up to make sincere, gimmick-free country music with just a pinch of attitude and laid back humor, the kind we rarely get to hear up here in the Northeast. From the sweet "Leavin' In The Morning" to the spirited "Me & Joe Drove Out To California" to the haunting "Beautiful & Damned," Drag The River dishes out a diverse plate that all goes down well together. Also check out Richard Buckner, Chad Rex & the Victorstands and Last Train Home.

Kingfield
Letters Post Mortem

The recent releases from Channels, The Bomb and Samiam got me very excited again for that particular sound I love, the genre many dub "post-punk." (Yes, cheery visions of Jawbreaker, J Church and Knapsack were dancing in my head). Sadly, "punk" in 00s has been dominated by MTV-friendly emo yelpers and screamo growlers. It's about time we get back to some well-crafted sonic goodness.

Brett Johnson, the bass player for the hip-hop group "Atmosphere," has taken up the task admirably with his band Kingfield, balancing thick layers of melodic punk with a just a sprig of good old fashioned prog-rock. This is especially evident on the impressive "More to This Than You Know" and "Can't Go Back." Johnson's voice and no-nonsense delivery is reminiscent of Bob Nanna of Hey Mercedes/Braid fame and never battles for attention against the giant sinuous riffs that propel the majority of songs. Kingfield produces a heavy but not overwhelming vibe, bringing to mind the cutting melody and complexity of Jawbox ("Witches") one moment and epic scale of Soundgarden the next. Kingfield can also kick out some serious straight-up rock songs too. Feel the 1-2 pop punch of "Penny" and my fave, the grooving "You Never Let Me Down," where Johnson lets his vocals rip and a bitchin' little guitar solo (remember those?) sneaks it way in the mix.

Believe The Hype...

The Hold Steady
Boys and Girls in America

While I have been crowing about these fellas for years, it seems the Entertainment Weekly-loving masses have finally jumped on board the "Craig Finn is a freakin' genius!" bandwagon. Not a genius, but definitely an innovative and highly entertaining songwriter and composer, Finn has finally found his sound and molded it into an animated mass of loose-goosey musical majesty replete with banging pianos, crunching guitars, huge ooh and aahs and Finn's beautifully bar-soaked delivery. It's a tatsy concoction filled with all the best storytelling tactics from early Bruce, the hip swagger of the Replacements and Finn's lovable punk stage presence he spent years developing with Lifter Puller. The track "You Can Make Him Like You" is beyond fantastic.

Believe The Brits...

Forward, Russia
Give Me a Wall

I'm pretty sure these crazy kids are big across the pond right now. I hope so, they are quite refreshing. Being a fan of the crisp, angular Brit thing done so well by Maximo Park and The Futureheads, I feared the sound was this close to being played out. (FYI, Franz Ferdinand define one trick pony.) So I was pleased as punch to hear a band come along and push it in a new direction. Forward, Russia! (love that name) is bloody bold and brash, exploding the expected with outre art-school dramatics and outstanding vocal histrionics offset by some serious muscle. Listen to "Thirteen" and repeat after me, "Holy shit! That was awesome!"

Best Groove...

Snowden
"Anti-Anti"

"Gettin' down in a town that makes no sense. Gettin' down in a town that makes no sense." Damn, just can't get those words out of my head. The band seems a bit aloof and would rather be reading a dog-eared copy of Satre in a coffee shop in Chelsea than playing music for a living. Who cares. This song moves me.

Mercy Killers
Bloodlove

Many punk bands today seeking cred in a crowded marketplace of costumed posers and tatted automatons attempt to mesh the slick macabre of Alkaline Trio with the vintage gruff of Social D. It usually comes off a bit forced and less than memorable. The LA-based Mercy Killers actually pull it off quiet well because they expand the format of 3-chord quickies and insert some spiffy arrangements ("End Transmission," "Pure Life") accented with the sawdust-chompin' vocals of Craig Fairbaugh who did time touring with the Rancid clan (the Transplants and Lars Fredericksen & the Bastards) and it shows. Bonus: I love vampires and if you have one in your band — Sam "Sampire" Soto pounds the bass when he's not sleeping upside-down from a ceiling beam during the day — you get major points.