This so-called mini-EP consists of three songs, but do not let the length dissuade you from giving it a go. These three songs are not only enough to turn your frowns upside down, or wake you up on the right side of the bed in the morning, or even to get a dance party started on the weekends, but it is also just enough to leave you excited to hear what the band will produce next.

Of the three songs, there are a few repeated themes: the catchy, suave, attitude-filled melodies, the subtle but mood-setting guitar work, and the dominant synth – the things that define the band in Rebel Hill. Opening track “Faces” has an acoustic rhythm guitar paired with poppy drums and slight synth usage to give it an Honorary Title feel. This is just a warm-up to the dancy-ness that ensues in the following two songs. The second song, “Pipes,” has a more sultry feel and is focused primarily on vocals until the Hot Hot Heat-esque build-up a little over halfway through. Finally, the title track is the catchiest and danciest of them all. Everything from the drums to the synth to the vocals will loop in your head for days.

Vinyl Thief is a very promising electro-pop band that has created an EP (mini-EP) that does exactly what it should – leave you begging for more. Rebel Hill is among perfect timing in the music industry these days – and it’s free for all to download – so excuses are eliminated.

So spits the underground hip-hop wunderkind Tyler, The Creator, perfectly summing up what has been a short, yet strange road for him and Odd Future over the past half-decade. After the booming success of his solo record Goblin, which featured cameo appearances from fellow Golf Wang affiliates such Hodgy Beats, Domo Genesis and Frank Ocean, Tyler The Creator and the rest of Odd Future are suddenly making their mark on a scene that was quickly becoming stale. Now, after a Video Music Award, a newly developed television show on Adult Swim and thousands of free downloads later, the group is back in full force with their latest effort The OF Tape, Vol 2. And while it may be less than perfect, the group continues to successfully evaluate their psyches in the public eye, while simultaneously upholding to the standards they’ve set by their previous releases.

After opening with an obligatory ‘diss track (on themselves), the album begins. Much like Odd Future’s previous works, the album’s material ranges from the highest of quality to the borderline pandering. However, when the album’s material works, it really works. Leadoff single for the record “Rella”, works well in this respect, taking a heavy-on-the-bass, synth-laden beat while mixing it with a level of lyrical content that takes equal amounts of jumbled-up sound-alikes and reflective description. Sure, “Rella” isn’t in any way going to rival songs like “Yonkers” or “Bastard” in terms of horror-drenched narrative, but it still succeeds in its mission to provide listeners with some of the wildest, most carefree verses the group has written to date.

Furthermore, the group’s production on the album has definitely risen to greater heights since their earliest days of recording. “Ya Know” sounds like it could be a jazz interpretation to the score of The Social Network, while “Forest Green” would fit right at home next to tracks currently being made by artists like Kid Cudi. Tracks such as these are crisp, atmospheric and can be daunting at times, especially when looking what was being produced years before. Not only this, but because The OF Tape is a record showcasing every member of Odd Future, the album resultantly features a diverse assortment of tracks. Take “White”, for example, a stripped-down R&B number that soars thanks to a gorgeous, bare-bones piano that lies in the background well-enough to let modern-day crooner Frank Ocean bring back the fondest memories of Boyz II Men.

However, none of these tracks can match the raw power of “Oldie”, the ten minute, nine-verse, all killer, no filler closer for the record, and up amongst the finest of tracks Odd Future has thus far created. With almost every member pulling their weight in some capacity, it ends the compilation on a high note. While Tyler, Hodgy and Domo Genesis stand on their own merits, it really is the triumphant return of now officially freed Earl Sweatshirt who steals the show, single-handedly showing that you can take the kid out of game, but you can’t take the game out of the kid. His massive, thought-provoking verse around the seven minute mark is sure to both turn heads and keep your wits about you, as he packs in so much into one verse it’ll leave you breathless. It’s a mesmerizing moment like this that makes you glad that the young prodigy is back and better than ever.

Given all of these positive aspects, you’d think that the record would be an easy sell to anyone looking for a great hip-hop album. However, all is not sound in the land of Golf Wang. My biggest problem with the record is that it just doesn’t have that “natural record” feel. I understand that with an album title like The OF Tape, Vol. 2, it’s going to naturally feel like a mixtape of sorts, but for a record that’s getting nationwide distribution, I would’ve loved to have seen a more natural flow to the tracks. Not only this, but because it’s more of a hodge-podge of tracks instead of an actual album, the group tends to go for quantity over quality in some cases. Some of these tracks include, but aren’t limited to, “NY (Ned Flanders)”, a very urgent track that mostly consists of Spanish gibberish over a pessimistic beat that could’ve found better use elsewhere and “Real Bitch”, a monotonous, tone-deaf “ballad” that feels like something that should’ve been cut off in the preliminary stages of development. Tracks like these stand out for the wrong reasons, which is unfortunate, because if the group had stuck to the same standards they set with songs like “Rella” and “White”, a recommendation for the new album would be much more definite. Here’s hoping that they remember that next time.

However, despite these hiccups, The OF Tape, Vol. 2 is a mostly solid release for the group. Though Tyler, The Creator’s Goblin will continue to function as the groundwork for Odd Future’s success in terms of quality, the new album has done a sufficient job of remaining true to the customs of their music, but will still help draw in new fans by the hundreds of thousands. So, without question, I must say, Tyler…

“Not only are you [and the rest of Odd Future] talented…you’re rad as fuck.”

Well folks, sometimes gambling pays off. The anthems mustered in Vulnerable thoroughly embarrass the generic progressions and “controlled” choruses of Artwork. “I Come Alive” is a burning opener with a domineering chorus and dramatic breakdowns—an admonishment for the aural bludgeoning listeners are about to receive.

Third track “Hands and Faces” explores a little dubstep electronica, opening with a rhythm sample before kicking into standard guitar, bass, drum formula that seems to symbolize the feel of the album. A near-reggae style breakdown traverses uncharted Used territory, just long enough to make listeners sweat before reeling them back in with a ripping outro chorus.

One of the best tracks, “Now That You’re Dead” is a darker tune brimming with angst and turbulence reminiscent of something off Lies For the Liars. Vocalist Bert McCracken belts out “I’ve waited for your death, for you to fade away,” on top of sludgy guitar riffs and blistering backbeats.

In typical Used fashion, brief moments of emotional exhalation are found in “Getting Over You,” and “Hurt No One.” But don’t get too comfortable – the album climaxes with a dancy, string-accompanied hit titled “Disaster” that will put you on your feet.

Just when it seemed like The Used were starting their slow decline into namelessness, they decided to take their destiny into their own hands and deliver a killer album. Released through Anger Music Group, Vulnerable is a proud departure from lesser works. So to The Used: thank you for spitting in the face of naysayers. Look for the Orem, Utah bunch to blow your face off on tour this spring.

Where to begin? Well, this is a record not for the faint of heart, and I don’t mean that in a cheesy way. It’s literally so dark and grotesque in its integrity that there isn’t anything reflecting off of its oily and gritty nature. It is pound for pound blistering riff after blistering riff. That being said, my first negative comes into play. Just about every song follows the same format: blast beats combined with ridiculous sweeping guitar work, underlying completely unintelligible vocals. This is such an isolated piece of work that very few will get it, much less understand its purpose. Lyrically, songs like “Left Hand” talk about murder of varying degrees (i.e. Scared of what you might find?/Dig out what’s deep inside/Sterile and virgin/This death suits you well), but we’re not surprised by that are we? In fact, I can imagine all of the songs relate in that manner, but because I can’t find lyrics online or even understand them I can’t validate that statement.

As far as the instrumentation goes, it is absolutely astounding how fucking good these guys are as musicians. The guitar work is blisteringly fast and intricate, climbing up and down massive scales like nothing it seems. The drumming and bass work follow suit- insanely fast and intricate. That’s really all I can latch onto with this record. These guys can play their instruments without a doubt. That being said, when put together into a unit like this one not only is it impossible to differentiate songs, but finding a part you can remember is a challenge. I love death metal/core, but this is just downright insane. Alas, there are still a few parts that are pretty sick. “Symptoms” has an awesome time-signature crazy breakdown near the 2:12 mark, and “Left Hand” contains a breathtaking intro for all of you guitar enthusiasts. Also, “Light” has a nifty breakdown at the 1:29 mark, actually slowing things down for a second.

Album closer “Unheard” contains some mind-blowing guitar work as well, which I suppose is a good thing considering it closes the collection off. It isn’t bad in the sense it is poorly done; the mix of the record is great, and each instrument is clear, concise and perfectly executed. Ultimately though, nothing more than this really stands out and warrants one of the most important things an album can have: replay value.

If you weren’t a fan of the genre before, that certainly won’t change with this album. It certainly doesn’t motivate me to try to find something else within the genre, but I guess a lot of this resonates with shock value. Either way, you know whether or not you’ll like this from the get-go.

Album opener “Mavericks” begins with a distorted clean riff that whines with just the right amount of angst, while vocal harmonies gorgeously set the tone for what’s to come. Next up, “The Night” showcases the group at one of their heavier moments. Vocalist/guitarist Jonathan Posadas possesses some wonderful pipes; he has a smoothly intense feel to his register when he climbs up the pitch ladder for some of his parts. This track ebbs and flows with no reason for unrest, just as “The Day” which succeeds it. “Run Like Hell” contains elements of dance-pop with its rhythm, which is a feature worthy of praise. There’s lots of fast hi-hat work during its inception which is bold, but halfway through, when it slows down to this great minor-sounding chord progression, it really hits home. “National Ave” is slower than the former track, and showcases guitarist Tadeo Ramirez’s intuitive work with pedal effects.

The title track is really a noble, but wise, choice in terms of song, and album, titles. Lyrically, the record paints great mental pictures, particularly with the line “some may stay in and board their windows/to protect their memories and prized possessions/and some may stick to the bare essentials/and flee to the nearest shelter”. This song is drenched with emotion. “Mavericks III” is a gorgeous instrumental piece, complete with wonderfully performed tremolo guitar work and a gleefully awesome melody. Taking me back to Circa Survive and Dredg, I can’t help but be impressed by such a young group. “Righteous Path” and “Fall of Golden Gate’ are both incredibly accessible, containing lots of head-bob moments, with the latter harboring an almost whimsical side to its integrity.

Nearing the end, “With Open Eyes” brings back that almost cataclysmic feeling present near the beginning of the record, drifting back and forth swiftly between smooth-as-butter vocals and an intelligent approach to the foundation courtesy of drummer Jamin Bracken and bassist Ben Everett. Something I must brag on is that right into closer “Mavericks IV” they immediately break into acoustic guitars for a bit, then simultaneously combine them with the rest of the full instrumentation for a wonderfully airy and atmospheric section of music. It serves as the perfect end to a powerful orchestration, and I’m astounded at the depth it contains.

Circling back to my original point, for such a young group these guys have got the chops to make serious noise in the industry – beautiful noise, that is. You would be outright insane not to check these guys out. I hope they feel like they achieved their goal with this record, because I without a doubt think they did.

The song starts off as many songs do in this genre: with just guitar. It takes only a measure before the rest of the band enters, with anger in the words as the opening line is “Don’t speak my name like it belongs in your mouth.” It takes less than thirty seconds before the first mini breakdown happens; everything stops except Chris Roetter, who screams “What makes you better than me” – insert breakdown usuals here. The chorus contains clean vocals and a catchy melody minus the awkward drum fill transition that is oftentimes the result of trying to blend cleans with screams.

If you were a fan of the Sweet Talker EP, I think this song demonstrates a smidgen of improvement. The screams sound more natural and the song seems altogether more tidily arranged. With catchy melodies, good instrumentation, and an all-around good song, Like Moths to Flames is a sign that the good music release patch is still kicking.

The dog days are over- Florence + the Machine are back on tour in the U.S., simultaneously with the release of their first live album, Live at the Wiltern. Since their last North American tour, the band has flowered in popularity in the states with their performance on the MTV Video Music Awards, and the boost in sales of their 2009 debut album, Lungs.

I attended Florence + the Machine’s second show of her 2011 tour at the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles. The Greek Theatre is strangely embedded in an old but wealthy neighborhood and lush greenery, which at the time led me to believe I had the wrong address. However, aside from the horrible traffic (I was forced to take a detour through a pitch black forest at midnight), the Greek Theatre proved itself as a nice and perfectly-sized venue that I am looking forward to visiting again. The entrance allows enough room for a small stage and plenty of booths for the bands’ use, and the venue sells popcorn and alcoholic beverages for concert attendees.

Hanni el Khatib, the first opening act, played for less than a quarter of the audience, and even the audience that was there didn’t seem impressed with their nothing-out-of-the-ordinary act.

As a Twin Shadow fan, I thoroughly enjoyed their set, but as more people were filing into the venue, the audience grew weary of opening acts that seemed to go on in perpetuity instead of two hours.

Finally, the main event. Florence Welch appears in front of a beautiful, vivid backdrop. She’s wearing a long, flowing, yellow dress. The “Machine” starts to play, and among them, the harp is most prominent. The crowd goes wild. Two hours of a Florence and the Machine concert without Florence or the Machine was two hours too many. However, after just a chorus into the first song, “My Boy Builds Coffins,” the crowd falls flat, as if most of them don’t know the song.

They continue the first half of the show playing non-singles, which keeps the audience placid until the magical hit, “Cosmic Love.” The backdrop lights up with stars as the harpist shows off his musicality. However, the band was not featured much aside from a single introduction; the unique instrumentals were overshadowed by Welch’s haunting and supernatural voice. Also contradictory to my expectations, all of the songs were played exactly the way they are on the album; there were no extraordinarily long and high notes that were belted, nor any syncopated instrumentals or vocals. (I was hoping to experience something beyond my beloved and overplayed Lungs record.) Lastly, I found myself disappointed in discovering that there were no dancers, like the ones that made the band’s artistic vision come to life at the MTV Video Music Awards. Although contemporary dancers would have been a nice addition to the show, Welch proved that she did not need superfluous performers with her own captivating quality.

The vibe of the audience progressively built up throughout the duration of the show, as they seemed to take a while to warm up (I was among the few who were actually standing up and singing along. Either the audience didn’t know any of the lyrics, or they were too busy absorbing the dark vibrations of the unique music to bother involving themselves.) Nevertheless, the crowd was a friendly bunch, not to mention a fashionable one, and I was able to appreciate the show without the elbowing and outright rudeness that can be found at other shows; everyone was there to have a good time themselves and with each other. Welch stole the show with her carefree child-like dancing around and daintiness; with her bold dress, scintillating personality, and Elysian voice, she left everyone mesmerized in awe, under her spell. During songs such as “Howl” and “Drumming Song” Welch’s power, emotion, and soaring high notes often ended up in screams, whereas in between songs, she unveiled her truly genuine, thankful, and perhaps even a little shy, personality in a sweet British accent that all of us Americans simply adore.

After a few acoustic renditions and covers, the band’s exiting of the stage left everyone wanting more. I, too, felt as though my fandemonium hadn’t been fulfilled, and I was not at all ready to leave. Answering to our cheers, the band returned to the stage and played a brand new song, “Bedroom Hymns,” which the crowd was excited to be let in on, and of course, the single they are famous for, “Dog Days Are Over.” At this point, the audience finally reached their acme in volume and excitement with a song that everyone knew. Welch asked the audience for one favor: to jump to the rest of the song while singing along, which everyone was more than happy to do. Although “Dog Days Are Over” may not be my favorite Florence + the Machine song, it was unquestionably the highlight of the night with the crowd finally going all out, though it may have come a little later than I would have preferred. I left the concert content, but was rather annoyed that the audience wasn’t as lively throughout the other 95% of the show. Loud cheers and familiarity or not, the band carried a generally good performance with a few outstanding moments, and although I probably wouldn’t purchase a $60 ticket for a Section C seat to see them again, I would definitely recommend all Florence + the Machine fans to see them in concert once.

Goes Canoeing essentially previews the rest of the album with its opening track. “Untitled” begins with a soothing acoustic guitar line that dissolves into a disarray of feedback. This contrast is apparent throughout. Monument is highly adept at seamlessly blending elements of both harmony and discord in their music. Tracks like “Roots Run Deep” showcase how musically multifarious this band can really be, featuring unique percussive elements and an oddly placed trumpet solo. The quality of instrumentation on Goes Canoeing deserves as much praise. Brandon Korch’s drumming is delightfully in-the-pocket, and the guitar lines of Anton Kropp and Gabe Marquez intermingle uniformly, only to briefly approach dichotomy for the sake of dynamics. The consecutive “The Diamond Age” and “Breakfast” – the former being short and sweet, the latter being awesomely abrupt in every facet – further accentuate how Monument can get a big reaction with little time.

Monument’s latest does a wonderful job of making short, often-uttered lines sound very meaningful. Something about the way singer/bassist Dan Doggett shouts “I can see right through you/you can see right through me” in “Glass House” makes you feel each word in your gut. “No Sleep, All Play” begins with a slow grind that builds up to the point where you’re screaming “we’ll sleep when we’re dead” right along with the band. There’s even something very cathartic about the delivery of the most meager two lines on the album: “you live/you learn” in “I’ve Got Some Plans.” I can only wonder why the words “eyes shut tight ‘till the end” mean so much to the person who wrote it, but when sung with as much conviction as Doggett, it’s hard to doubt that they do.

While Monument’s Goes Canoeing isn’t particularly new-fangled in its devices, it manages to capture the honest emotion that got the genre its name in the first place. It is purposefully dynamic, never stale, and it promises to be hailed as a must-hear by fans of Sunny Day Real Estate and the like. Monument’s newest release may just be a precursor to a new wave of emo. Who knows? It’s happening with pop-punk. Speculation aside, Goes Canoeing is a superb album despite whatever legacy it leaves.

Opener “Coxton Yard” is classic Title Fight at its finest. The gruff vocals of Ned Russin and Jamie Rhoden hit hard and fast behind blistering drums and grungy guitars. After “Coxton Yard” comes the title track which is the most honest indication of what to expect from the rest of Shed. Russin’s vocals surprisingly provide a stellar hook while the slower pacing of the song showcases Title Fight’s ability to write more than fast pop-punk jams. Even though “Shed” barely capsizes two minutes, it is successful in showing the overall growth of the band since their last release. “Society,” “Crescent-Shaped Depression,” “Where Am I?,” and the mostly instrumental “Safe In Your Skin” are a few tracks that exemplify this growth the most as each track delivers its own individual flare.

Though the aforementioned tracks represent the progression of Title Fight as a whole, that’s not to say that Shed isn’t full of those same hastened anthems that we have grown accustomed to from this band. “Flood of ’72″ and “You Can’t Say Kingston Doesn’t Love You” offer that same fun Title Fight drive, while “Your Screen Door” and “Stab” deliver catchy guitars backed by Ben Russin’s common quickened drums.

It is not until the end of Shed that we witness how far this band has truly come though. “GMT (Greenwich Mean Time)” is as abstract as Title Fight has ever gotten. Now I’m not saying that this track would fit on Brand New‘s Daisy, but relative to Title Fight’s previous work, it might as well be. Almost a ballad by some standards, “GMT” achieves a feat that this band has never reached: they have created a song that is longer than three minutes. In fact, this closer just surpasses three minutes and thirty seconds, proving that Title fight isn’t a band capable of just creating fast punk songs, but one that can pull back on the reigns and make music for the sake of art.

Natural progession is what is witnessed on Shed, which is always a wonderful thing to see from a band like Title Fight. Their previous material allowed for them to stand out slightly from the crowd, but Shed is one that brings them above most of the pop-punk bands of this new era.

What happens after the happy ending seems to be a mystery to music critics.  After Say Anything frontman Max Bemis found the right mixture of meds and married Eisley’s Sherri DuPree, everyone worried that the formerly angsty lyricist would lose his touch due to the new found happiness, as if clever songwriting and bliss couldn’t co-exist.  Fortunately for us, Bemis proved this is not the case with the self-titled Say Anything.

As always, Bemis has a narrative in mind.  Rather than hearing about his battles with life (2006’s …Is A Real Boy) or his recovery (2007’s In Defense Of The Genre), Say Anything seem to be working on the world and its issues, focusing on being happy and maximizing potential.  Combining everything you loved about old SA with improved musicianship; like off-tempo and altered guitar solos, piano, and acoustics; and a fresh outlook on life make for quite the record.

“Fed To Death” tackles the balance between irresponsibility and the power-obsessed with great melody and acoustics to lead things off.  A nice piano outro leads into the opening cheers of “Hate Everyone,” the album’s first single.  Borrowing heavily from The Clash at times musically, the track outlines the people Bemis takes issue with…which apparently is everyone, including Kanye (“the rapper in the Lexus”).  This one’s a grower, especially for a SA single, so give it a few spins before deciding you hate it.

A tasteful mastery of electronics backs a few of the album’s highlights, including the standout “Do Better.”  Max’s call to be the best man possible is the strongest track on the album thanks to his delivery, clever lyricism and the muted kick drum.  The love song “Crush’d” is the most heavily electro-ed song present, which nicely cuts the sappiness of the track.  Of course, it’s endearing in a way only Say Anything could be (“You’re a witch/you’re a wench/you’re like Bjork with better fashion sense”), but we appreciate the sentiment.

You almost need a track-by-track review to cover all the awesomeness here.  Back-to-back songs “Less Cute” and “Eloise” feature upbeat pop/rock choruses that are guaranteed hits.  As schizo as “Mara and Me” is, the track’s strangely compelling and deserves attention.  Things keep catchy without sacrificing comedy in “Property,” where Bemis announces males’ ownership of women.  Really.  Don’t miss the hysterical spoken word after the second chorus (Excerpt: “And worst case, I’ll just have to sell some drugs to my little brother’s friends.  If you do have to sell your body once, or twice, or seven times…”).

As tired as the slow building, acoustic-to-full-band, multi-vocalist closer has become, “Ahhh…Men” is damn near perfect.  Max shouts over gang vocals to end his latest musical endeavor in epic fashion, wrapping things up well before you double click “Fed To Death” for your second listen through.

It’s another Say Anything winner. Pick up the album and enjoy the latest chapter to the Bemis tale.