record reviews

SOCIAL DISTORTION

Album: “Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes” (Epitaph)

Grade: A

Times may have changed, but not Social Distortion (in sound, if not in personnel). “I’ll be here to the bitter end/ And I’m here to make my stand/ With my guitar in my hand,” gravel-voiced front man and Social D. constant Mike Ness declares on “Still Alive,” as the band concludes the album with one final blazing rocker.

That steadfastness has served the veteran Southern California band well. “Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes” shows there’s still plenty of juice in Social Distortion’s guitar-driven attack. And also in Ness’ persona as a bruised and battered survivor. Maybe that’s because he knows how to balance the punkish edge of the music with a clear-eyed adult perspective that goes beyond the hard-boiled veneer to reveal some tenderness and even vulnerability — both in his own songs and in the way he connects to the past. The only nonoriginal is Hank Williams’ “Alone and Forsaken” — rocked up, of course, but still as desolate as the title indicates. Meanwhile, “Bakersfield” includes a pleading recitation addressed to the singer’s faraway woman that could have come straight out of a vintage soul song.

— Nick Cristiano, Philadelphia Inquirer

WANDA JACKSON

Album: “The Party Ain’t Over”

Grade: B+

Wanda Jackson was a gritty thrill when she unveiled her take on her ex-boyfriend Elvis Presley’s “Let’s Have a Party” in 1958. Not much in her feisty delivery has changed since, and on “The Party Ain’t Over” (Third Man/ Nonesuch), her collaboration with White Stripe Jack White, Jackson handles everything from yodeling to the calypso-tinged “Rum and Coca-Cola” to Amy Winehouse’s “You Know I’m No Good” pretty well. But it’s the way she howls on “Rip It Up” and commands “Busted” that shows the Queen of Rockabilly still deserves her throne.

— Glenn Gamboa, Long Island Newsday

IRON AND WINE

Album: “Kiss Each Other Clean”

Grade: B+

When Iron and Wine (aka Sam Beam) arrived in 2002, his hushed vocals and lo-fi accompaniment were as much of his signature as his distinctive bushy beard.

Well, the beard is still around, but on his major-label debut “Kiss Each Other Clean” (Warner Bros.), Beam bears little resemblance to his previous indie-folk self. While he still tells gripping stories, these days Beam’s well-crafted lyrics are surrounded by a lush world of rhythms and sounds. One minute there are elements of doo-wop, the next there are bits of Afro-pop — all held together by Beam’s warm, understated vocals.

The first single, “Tree by the River,” takes ’70s and ’80s AM radio pop (Air Supply’s “Lost in Love,” anyone?) and pairs it to a driving beat and Beam’s vivid descriptions — “I mean the world to a potty-mouthed girl, a pretty pair of blue-eyed birds,” he says describing his new life, “time isn’t kind or unkind, you liked to say.”

On “Me and Lazarus,” a big, fat bass line is front and center while Beam sings about the exploits of a duo, including “an emancipated punk and he can dance.” “Big Burned Hand” is sax-driven and, well, funky.

“Kiss Each Other Clean” is filled with all kinds of surprises, as Beam takes the experiments of his last album to an all-new level. It’s a big-sounding album, but Beam’s lyrics and vocals are strong enough for the challenge.

— Glenn Gamboa, Long Island Newsday

AMANDA PALMER

Album: “Amanda Palmer Goes Down Under” (Liberator)

Grade: A

Since her hiatus from cabaret-punk’s Dresden Dolls, happily histrionic chanteuse/pianist Amanda Palmer has worked hard at independence. Fans celebrate her fight (and victory) to get released from Roadrunner after the label sought to pull scenes from a Palmer video because (in her words) they thought she looked fat. Since then, the theatrical melodist and pointedly literate lyricist has seemed freer still, recording oddities such as an EP of Radiohead hits on ukulele, as well this new tribute to things antipodean.

It might seem self-indulgent, an album of Aussie covers (a rendition of Nick Cave’s “The Ship Song” is more dramatic than its author’s) and Palmer songs written about (or while in) Australia, New Zealand, and Tasmania. But self-indulgence is the point. As an unchecked id, Palmer is a marvel. Her strong, achy-breaky trill makes her tour-guide songs lusty and her paeans to Vegemite (the yeast-extract spread so unaccountably beloved by Australians) bracing. The electro-glam “Map of Tasmania” is full of silly, sexy double entendres, and “In My Mind” (featuring DD partner Brian Viglione) sounds like a promise that the next Dresden Dolls effort will be slyer and more emotive than anything in the duo’s past.

— A.D. Amorosi, Philadelphia Inquirer

COLD WAR KIDS

Album: “Mine Is Yours” (Downtown)

Grade: C

It’s undeniable: The word “sellout” is a clich . But like all truly pervasive clich s, it has its uses.

So yes, you could argue, as many already have, that “Mine Is Yours” is when Cold War Kids sell out. When the prickly, quirky nerds of yore trade their riffs for spacious anthems. Call it the Kings of Leon effect.

Now, that’s not the whole story — but it’s most of it. Truth be told, “Mine Is Yours” is a perfectly adequate indie pastiche that never quite connects.

From the charged “Royal Blue” to the echoing title track, it’s clear that the band behind the brilliant “Robbers & Cowards” is trying for something more accessible. But in that attempt, they come up with little more than a slick, overproduced effort that will please many and amaze none.

— Emily Tartanella, Philadelphia Inquirer

MONOTONIX

Album: “Not Yet” (Drag City)

Grade: C

The reverbed guitar chords that open Monotonix’s second full-length album are aggressive, dirty and loud. Just like their last album and just like their live shows — after all, the Israeli rock trio is famous not for consummate musicianship, but for off-the-wall, bombastic, raucous performances. That’s where the problem lies. Monotonix’s music embodies ’90s punk and garage without apology, while pulling in elements from the Buzzcocks, the Ramones, U.S. Maple and Royal Trux. “Not Yet” is a solid album, 32 minutes of catchy, energetic songs with never-ending caterwauls, dominating drum beats, and spastic cymbal crashes. But albums are just not this band’s forte. Despite the visceral energy, passionate playing and enjoyable tunes, neither “Not Yet” nor the band’s earlier releases can live up to their live zeal, engagement and madness.

— Katherine Silkaitis, Philadelphia Inquirer