SOUND BITES

It's time to call a spade a spade; Weezer has been in a borderline abusive relationship with the majority of its fan base for the better part of the last twenty years. Every time they underwhelm with a failed attempt at Top 40 domination and we say "enough is enough", they come crawling back with more crunchy power pop nostalgia and eventually win us back, only to go chasing that elusive mainstream success again. So, in a way, we should have known Pacific Daydream was going to find Rivers Cuomo in full hit-chasing mode again. Even still, it's kind of jarring just how blatant the attempt is time around. You'd have thought Weezer would have learned their lesson when Raditude fell flat on its face nearly a decade ago (and there were seemingly lessons learned judging from the three following records), and yet here we are again being presented with tune after tune of polished, shiny pop with mainstream aspirations. Mexican Fender , with its power chords and colo

It simply isn't possible to listen to Gord Downie's final recordings without a heavy heart. That Introduce Yerself , his sixth solo record, follows mere days after his passing is a case of the cruelest timing; recorded as a means by which to say goodbye to the people and places that have mattered most to Downie, the words and performances here have the raw emotion and power to cut deep even to people he's never met. Make no mistake, listening to this album's 23 songs is an exercise in emotional roulette; though there are lighthearted moments to be found, there are also crushingly sad exchanges, most crushing to me (and likely any parent) being the story of Downie trying to rock his child to sleep on Bedtime . There are heartfelt memories like this put to tape throughout, which makes Introduce Yerself quite clearly Downie's most personal and intimate work. Through these recollections, some humourous and some haunted, Downie is completely transparent and vulnerab

On his twelfth overall album (eighth as a solo artist), Matthew Good doesn't offer up too many surprises for longtime fans; we've come to expect a handful of energetic rockers, a few brooding ballads and some thoughtful mid-tempo fare. That's true on Something Like a Storm , but there's more urgency here as well, a sense of import that makes for a more immediate and impactful listen. Decades is a prime example, a driving new-wave tinged tune that stands with the best of his singles; it's punchy and nostalgic but also pensive and nocturnal, and it sets a high benchmark for the rest of the record. If one big single was all this album had going for it, we might be having a talk about stagnation, but Good carries this energy over to other songs as well; There the First Time is propelled by an insistent beat and some shadowy keyboards, and it makes for an undeniably captivating song. Days Come Down , meanwhile, employs acoustic guitars as a backbone while the surrou

"Heaven is a better place today because of this But the world is just not the same." -Gord Downie, Heaven Is a Better Place Today As the singer/lyricist for The Tragically Hip, Gord Downie was a powerful, intellectual voice that often spoke for not just himself or the characters portrayed in his songs, but indeed an entire nation. As a person, however, Downie was a shining example of class, dignity and respect. When his band's reach ballooned from regional to national scale, he often used this stature not to self-promote, but to raise awareness of issues bigger than any one of us; of note, after being diagnosed with terminal brain cancer and while on national TV performing one of his final shows, he criticized our government's relationship with indigenous people. Where many would use this kind of large-scale platform to their own benefit, Downie went out of his way to draw attention to the big picture, to remind us that we face very important issues as a

Once hailed as a vanguard of alternative music, Beck's penchant for going against the grain and offering a counter to the conventional sounds of the times has slowly regressed in recent years. As his creative output has gone from a torrent to a trickle, he's gone from the bold outsider to the willing conformer. If that's perceived as too harsh a criticism on Beck, enter Colors ; the promised more upbeat album that he was already working on in a preliminary fashion when Morning Phase came out three and a half years ago has taken a long time to surface, finally hitting shelves more than two years after singles started to trickle out ( Dreams is given a new and more sanitary mix here which replaces "stop fucking with my dreams" with "stop dragging down my dreams", but is otherwise pretty much the same song). While there's no denying that this is a much brighter and upbeat record than Morning Phase , it's also perhaps much more derivative than a

Anyone who listened without prejudice to The Pale Emperor , Marilyn Manson's 2015 record, could tell you that the band that made its name off controversy and button-pushing was entering a revival of sorts; seeing the tired and aged shtick outlive its welcome, it was a revelation to hear a more mature sound drawn out by producer/collaborator Tyler Bates. It's no surprise, then, that Marilyn Manson would work with Bates again on the group's tenth album; having provided a quality record such as The Pale Emperor was a foot back in the door of the public consciousness, an opportunity to rebuild the brand and pave a new path. It's just a little bit of a letdown, then, to hear that old shtick resurrected on much of  Heaven Upside Down ; to be sure, The Pale Emperor was no testament to purity, but from the jump Manson seems desperate to reclaim some of the outrage he produced in the '90s. F-bombs abound, as do rants against religion and government alike; the thing is,

On their fourth album, J. Roddy Walston and the Business seem to be looking to continue their parallel career arc with Kings of Leon; through a trio of ragged rock records that gained them a small modicum of stature, album four (much like KoL's Only By the Night ) sees the Virginian group swinging for the crossover fences. So as to say, the electric tension of previous records is dulled here in favour of sharper hooks and an uptick in melody. That said, far be it for me to fault a band for chasing a hit in this day and age; establishing yourself as a rock band in the current musical climate usually requires lightning in a bottle, a right place/right time song (or two or three) that captures a moment in time for listeners and uses its wide appeal to defy expectations of commercialism and longevity. We don't have to look far for an example, as Portugal. The Man did just that this year with Feel It Still , an undeniably catchy bid for attention that is still captivating ears m

On their second full-length album, UK buzz band Wolf Alice remains resistant to idling in one place; as such, the record finds bandleader Ellie Rowsell guiding the group through a wide variety of sonic terrain. Among moments of blissful new wave-inspired indie ( Heavenward, Don't Delete the Kisses, Sadboy ) and radio-ready stadium rock fare ( Beautifully Unconventional, Planet Hunter, Space & Time ) are moments of bloody seething rage ( Yuk Foo, Formidable Cool ). The absolutely crushing eight minute title track closer, meanwhile, throws in all of the above while adding a little psychedelia into the mix, which assures us that there are still more tricks up their sleeves. The testament to Wolf Alice's prowess is how easily these many faces are worn, and there doesn't seem to be a single moment where the listener is convinced the band has bitten off more than it can chew or made the wrong decision for the song. Rowsell emerges as a true tour de force here, as effectiv

There's always been something whimsical about Primus, whose unique brand of prog rock was often bolstered by silly stories involving silly characters. That's why it wasn't that much of a stretch when Primus recorded a tribute to the soundtrack for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in 2014, and that's also why it isn't so far fetched that their first album of original material in six years would be based off a children's book about goblins who gluttonously consume colour. Still, after 2011's Green Naughahyde showed some serious signs of maturity and suggested a more mature future for Primus, their transformation into glorified children's entertainers is a little disappointing for those who wanted to see where that other, more topical Primus could go (for a consolation, I suppose last year's album by The Claypool/Lennon Delirium might suffice). Of course, feel free to draw comparisons between the goblins of this story and the monsters in position

After an experiment in minimalism that left many fans cold (2015's Vitals ), Mutemath's fifth album marks a welcome return to the band's fully fleshed out and no holds barred approach. The most obvious carryover from Vitals is the reliance on electronic flourishes (and, in turn, less reliance on guitars), although Mutemath remains very much a rock band on Play Dead ; that said, this is an album that's at its wild hearted best when it's at its least traditional. Hit Parade 's sinewy rhythm and multi-layered melodies make it an unlikely earworm, and yet the song does crawl inside your head upon repeat listens. Stroll On , meanwhile, uses odd samples and off-kilter rhythms as jagged puzzle pieces; when the full picture is reveled, it's as surreal as it is undeniably catchy, even as it threatens to go off the rails completely in its closing moments. There aren't many places Play Dead won't go, from the '80s funk-soaked tones of Break the Fever

In the four and a half years since the release of the last album by The Bronx, suffice to say humanity has had to endure a lot of challenges. In an act of art imitating life, The Bronx's fifth album wastes no time in getting loud, fast and angry; Night Drop at the Glue Factory and Stranger Danger get the record started off in vicious fashion, the former a takedown of both Trump and police brutality while the latter draws parallels between our modern times and the Summer of Sam. The lean toward melodic rock that often occurred on the previous album was welcomed by most, and there are some songs that carry the group's gift for hooks over here; Side Effects hearkens back a bit to Del Shannon's Runaway en route to one of the record's catchiest choruses. Channel Islands and Cordless Kids , meanwhile, hit a now established Bronx sweet spot somewhere between Foo Fighters and Sex Pistols. Lead single Two Birds might not have quite the same undeniable stickiness as a fe