Upon first listening to Caroline Rose’s America Religious (releasing July 2), I found it fresh and catchy. On my second listen, I settled in and it opened up to me – or I to it. In the lyrics I found political and social commentary nestled into the metaphors, and a little bit more of a lead foot as I drove down the road. I found a friend in her music; one who thinks similarly to me and who cares about the big picture and all its little breath-beings.

Jon Hopkins has always been a bit of a journeyman in the music world. The British producer got his first gig as the keyboardist for Imogen Heap’s backing band, and has built up quite a resume from there.

It’s all too easy and lazy to be dismissive of cultural phenomenon especially when they become ubiquitous. For all I know Daft Punk might be my favorite band, but the fact that they’re referenced 500 times a day in my Twitter feed makes the likelihood of me ever listening to them extremely low. Also, when I walk into a bar or restaurant and there are low lit gas laps, $15 cocktails and bounteous amounts of creative facial hair worn by men in suspenders, I generally turn around and walk out before the door shuts behind me.

The Dank Train made a stop in Chattanooga, Tenn. on Wednesday, June 12 tearing up the local venue Rhythm and Brews.Hanging with the band before the show, an employee at Rhythm and Brews keeps hassling the Athens, Ga. band, Dank Sinatra, on their performance later that night.

Ryan Bingham has a musical style beyond his years.  Without looking, you'd think a weathered, country veteran was on stage strumming that guitar, with his gruff voice and the hard life he sings about.  Much to the contrary, he is a young, incredibly sexy musician. Bingham is not only a skilled lyricist with a voice made for country-folk music, he's also a master on the guitar.  Props to the roadie; Bingham switched guitars like a sorority girl switches purses:  almost every song required a new one.  And it's not just rhythm, Bingham

Shades of raw Buzzcocks in spirit and this distinguishable brand of Interpol-Strokes scenester amalgam in recurring riffs—adjusting their own description to account for the requisite self-romanticizing inherent in any young new band’s internal visions of their portrait—that’s Bad Cop more or less.The trio’s debut E.P. is grinded-down polish. Anarchy on synthetic drugs.

Maybe I’ve grown jaded and all, but lately the gimmicks and ploys and artificial soul spewing from some of these up-and-comers in the ‘industry’ (loose interpretation) have been dancing on nothing short of exhausting. Too much self-awareness, far too little genuine appreciation for the necessary steps on the ladder to iconic reverence. Folks wanna be first-off famous—you cannot fall in love with the rock stars, to paraphrase my favorite flick on the subject (you’ve seen it).

It means “My Country”—Mon Pays, that is—to the native Malian, Vieux Farka Toure. According to the guitar virtuoso, the album is a tribute to his home, produced during a period of ethnic and religious strife that has brought unrest to the landlocked West African nation. The hope and zeal behind these songs is tangible.Mon Pays is a beautiful collective piece.

One obvious advantage to living in New York City is how spoiled we are musically. Every major musical act plays shows here, small acts you might not get the chance to see elsewhere, week long residencies, combinations of musicians you won’t ever see play together again.  The sheer amount of great music any given night is staggering.

Rage. Rest. Repeat. This was the motto printed on flyers around Boulder promoting Umphrey's McGee upcoming Red Rocks show, and it was the one the band adhered to faithfully on Friday night. Mixing in a high-energy varied set list with their unique, dynamic musicianship, Umphrey's proved why they are one of the best live bands, jam or otherwise, performing today.