Looking For Alaska is also partaking in a game of musical chairs, rotating who plays what, who stays, and who goes. From day one they were equipped with two guitarists. Shortly after, they stumbled across the rest of the band and were set -until they lost their vocalist to California. After finally getting their hands on another singer, they were ready to go.

The original singer came back into the family and it was Looking For Alaska 1.0 again – sound familiar? Now, however, the tides have changed once again and they lost not only that vocalist, but also the bassist. So who makes up Looking For Alaska 2012? The band now consists of Calvin Lauber, Joshua Cannon and Chris Chamoun, the veteran guitarists and creators of the band, and Bailey Patterson on bass.

So how will this impact the band, if at all? “Any change in the sound that is happening right now is not necessarily intentional. It does sound different because there are different people involved…We’ve started over with the new material,” says former lead guitarist and current frontman Calvin Lauber. They decided to keep the name due to the majority of the remaining members being of the original lineup.

In their new single “Gainesville”, it is appropriately written “basically about change and how even if things change things can still work out even if they are different,” Lauber says. This is applicable to their audience as well as the band itself: new members, new sound, new plans – but still a successful band.

Lauber’s vocals add more of a The Dangerous Summer feel, differing from former vocalist Turner’s poppy vocals. The song gives off a vibe of dark pop punk, the dissonant key of guitars with the echoes and various effects placed throughout. The strings during the bridge add a melancholy emotion that is soon broken into by Lauber and Cannon’s vocals to sound angry and determined.

“Gainesville” shows that even though bands do go through inevitable change throughout their lifetimes, it is still possible to keep going and growing from those changes. Introducing the same Looking For Alaska – with a fresh start.

Taking the cue from that feedback, Manson reverts back to his Antichrist Svperstar days with his new album Born Villain. He is at his all-time best when he draws the irk from everyone worldwide. Without controversy, Marilyn just isn’t so Manson. Third track “Pistol Whipped” begins with the lyrics “You look so pretty when you cry / Don’t want to hit you but the only thing / between our love is a bloody nose, busted lip / and a blackened eye” is sure to draw criticism from PTA groups and politicians all over – which I believe is the exact reason why this song was written. It’s a very catchy song that starts out with an electro snare and simple guitars before bringing out the band for a short chorus.

Although The High End of Low was a really good album, Born Villain is dripping with the classic, anthemic songs like the olden days. “Overneath the Path of Misery” is an excellent example of this. It’s a little reminiscent of “The Dope Show” in some ways. After a lengthy and drawn out intro, the guitars kick into gear with the drums providing the basis of which the song stands upon. Manson’s delivery is full of attitude that was mostly missing from his last two albums.

Continuing on a similar trend, “The Flowers of Evil” takes the same kind of approach, but with the bass giving the foundation of the song. There’s a fair bit of electronics to mix things up a little bit. Being the creepiest sounding song, there’s a fair amount of fading in and out instruments and Manson utilizing a certain vocal tone that I personally haven’t heard and couldn’t compare.

Having that sort of sound and lyrics that remind one of the old days, “Disengaged” is sure to be a fan favorite. It’s a song about isolation, suicide, and the other problems of being a social outcast, which will always remain catchy. There are so many examples of how Manson draws directly from his past and infuses it into Born Villain, this track being another great example.

Overall, this album is shining proof that Marilyn Manson is back from the slump of the last few albums and ready to reclaim the throne as the most controversial shock rocker of all time. Born Villain is an absolute must have of the year.

The album’s opening title track is slow and soft, simple and easy. Yet somehow there is a certain heartfelt warmth created by some light strumming and Dustin Addis’ comforting vocals leaving absolutely nothing to be desired. This sympathetic track opens the record modestly and solemnly yet segues perfectly into the upbeat banger “Clear Eyes, Full Hearts” that officially kicks off The Forecast’s catchy side. This track is classic Forecast, featuring bouncy guitars, perfect harmonies between Addis and bassist Shannon Burns and just an overall fun summer vibe, which becomes the record’s clear intent.

The most prominent impression Everybody Left leaves is one of exuberance. Tracks like “Skyline,” “Figure It Out” and the aforementioned “Clear Eyes, Full Hearts” exude a summery atmosphere, no doubt due to the combination of very singable Justin Pierre-esque melodies and the blissful guitar licks of Kevin Ohls. This album begs to be played with the windows down while road-tripping with friends. Addis and Burns are at their best vocal-wise as they both take the helm brilliantly on certain tracks like the poppy “Take Me Down” and the calming “Skipping Stones” while effortlessly bouncing back and forth on others.

Though the vocals are at a high quality on Everybody Left, they are nothing if the lyrics bear no meaning. Luckily Addis’ lyrical charm is incredibly prevalent on this record. I’m a big fan of retrospective lyrics and when The Forecast refers back to old lyrics (“Sing It Out,” “Last Stand”), long-time fans will be filled with budding nostalgia, delivered subtly throughout Everybody Left.

As Everybody left closes as quietly and calmly as it opened one can’t help but feel incredibly satisfied by the effort and heart that is packed into this ten-track indie rock record. It is a blessing and an enormous pleasure to see veteran bands like this still making incredible music with the scene becoming flooded with nonsensical breakdowns and hundreds of songs about how shitty a band’s hometown is. I’m not sure how many years The Forecast have left in them, but here’s to hoping they can stick around to remind us how poppy indie rock should be done.

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.

It is a tricky thing mixing the electronic, dubstep, poppy parts of songs with breakdowns and chugs. In fact, it’s so tricky that a lot of bands cannot seem to do it right, instead including awkward transitions and non-flowing pieces of seemingly different songs.

Another thing that bands in this genre often fall victim to is a lack of musical growth. They keep creating the same things over and over again until it can be considered ‘beating a dead horse’. While I See Stars is evolving (ish) musically, the song titles nonsensically stay the same. From “Gnars Attacks” to “NZT48,” it’s a game in itself decoding them.

This does not make the album any less enticing, however.  The entire album flows with natural transitions from piece to piece. For instance, instead of going straight from a poppy chorus to a two-step, they are able to blend from clean choruses to electronics and finally to the breakdown everyone anticipates. This seemingly small accomplishment makes a huge impact on the album. Instead of sounding choppy and mismatched, Digital Renegade flows from each song as gracefully as this genre makes possible.

The first song “Gnars Attacks” is a good example of this structure. The song fades in with a drum roll and string combination paired with group vocals which flow into the verses that are void of clean vocals until the chorus. The clean vocals are the telltale identity of what band you are listening to- if you did not know before, you know now. Devin Oliver is the signature piece of I See Stars thanks to his somehow not-whiny voice.

The second song is catchier when it comes to melodies. The focus is more on the clean vocals and dubstep/electronic parts until the middle of the track, where a breakdown predictably (but awesomely) rears its head.

Something unexpected in the album is the guest appearance by Cassadee Pope (Hey Monday). Usually guest vocals in bands like this are a commodity with Jonny Craig or Craig Owens or some other Craig-like figure, and Hey Monday vocals are expected with All Time Low-type bands. I See Stars brings the genres to unity by switching things up, and it sounds surprisingly good.

Digital Renegade is epic through and through; I See Stars combines all the sounds that these other bands try to squeeze in, and they do it cleverly.

Notorious for their self-indulgent and unabashed abuse of all that constitutes prog-rock, TMV have returned after three years which, when taking into consideration lead guitarist Omar Rodríguez-López’s uncontrollable creative streak, is almost an eternity in TMV-years. Longtime collaborators, in particular former Red Hot Chili Peppers’ guitarist John Frusciante and keyboardist Isaiah Owens, no longer play a part in shaping the band’s sound. Not to mention the fact that TMV’s forebear, At The Drive-In, has announced its reunion.

Perhaps these changes have been for the better because for once, the band has, by and large, managed to distill its sound into something far more accessible than their previous efforts. Noctourniquet is as intoxicating as it is still a mish-mash of all things “proggy,” and while attracting newer fans, it may drive away some of the hardcore fans, especially those who loved TMV’s first two releases, De-loused In the Comatorium and Frances the Mute.

Where the band’s songs once contained layer upon layer of López’s jungly riffs and fretwork, Noctourniquet instead abounds with echoes, gaps of emptiness and treads lightly in the footsteps of Octahedron with acoustic guitars. Listeners are finally given just about enough room to breathe without having to suffer through a three-minute long synth attack, or drown in the onslaught of López’s propensity to inflict death-by-effects pedals.

That isn’t to say that Noctourniquet doesn’t have its flaws; if anything, the way the band composited the album, over long stretches of inconstancy, adds to the peculiar disconnect that it seems to overwhelm listeners with.

The album’s fifth track “The Malkin Jewel” is a masterclass in paranoia and psychosis, oozing and pulsating to a reggae beat and vocalist Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s snarled verses. If Edgar Allen Poe had been a musician, this track may very well have offered a taste of the demented music he might have written. “Molochwalker” brings listeners on a trip into Neverland, offering a trippy look into what life within a kaleidoscope might be like, while “Aegis” perfectly encapsulates TMV’s new approach, planting itself firmly between driving listeners off a cliff and knowing when to tug on the reins.

Bixler-Zavala is back at the top of his game as he screeches, wails and warbles throughout the album. Though exerting less force and pushing his range far less than on TMV’s earlier releases, there can be no complaints with regards to his performance. He shines on “Vedamalady” in particular, his voice intertwining with López’s eerily disarming guitar licks.

Much of the duo’s hard work is, however, undone by keyboardist Marcel Rodríguez-López (Omar’s brother), who leaves his “synthy” fingerprints all over some terrific tracks – ruining “Dyslexicon” and “Zed and Two Naughts” with overbearing, uninspired keys.

Ergo, the band has done some exceptional work with Noctourniquet, brushing off the exceptionally bland Octahedron with songs that flow well, as Omar and Bixler-Zavala’s fine work helps to paper over the unexpectedly thin production. The band’s intriguing melodies are no longer an eccentricity but rather more memorable and, dare I say, catchy. For a band known for its innovation and uniqueness, it’s fantastic to see that TMV have let loose a little and come up with one hell of a catchy album.

Four years ago, Shinedown released The Sound Of Madness, a record that not only made an impact in the modern rock scene for years to come, but became one of my favorite records of all-time. Its mix of brash, adrenaline-pumping rock anthems and succulent, hook-crafted power ballads made the record a force to be reckoned with. Four years later, the band has finally manufactured another work entitled Amaryllis. As I hit the play button to “Adrenaline,” I could not hit the stop button until acoustic closer “Through The Ghost” concluded the record. I stood convinced that this release couldn’t stand up against its predecessor, yet I was wrong. It’s just as good, if not, better than The Sound Of Madness.

Amaryllis continues with similar firepower to the band’s preceding record. Just like what made The Sound of Madness a classic, two different types of tracks – slower, more enlightening ones and faster, more angsty ones – mesh together in the album to make the music more versatile, and also more enjoyable. In the more enlightening tracks, the choruses are calming and merciful, with elegant hooks, phenomenally executed verses, and grandiose guitar solos making the songs a rapture. In the more angsty tracks, the songs rely on power chords and Brent Smith’s penetrating voice to make an impact.

Though its quite obvious that this record sounds a lot like its predecessor, the hooks seem to be better executed on Amaryllis. Everything is catchy as hell, but that doesn’t mean the band trades in their energetic hard rock side. The first two tracks, “Adrenaline” and first single “Bully,” fit in the angsty end of things. The brutish power of the opener is entrancing, and it’s the absolute perfect way to begin a record. It’s hard to find a powerful hard rock song that doesn’t suffer from some sort of weakness, whether it’s recycled riffage or lack of a hook, but “Adrenaline” is perfect down to every single lyric and melody. I’ll also have to admit that “Bully,” grew on me a lot since I wrote the single review of it.

The third track stops you dead in your tracks. Here enter strings and slower guitar melodies. Yet, everything about this track is perfection: the intro, the verse, the hook-laden chorus, and the guitar solo. It’s a song that’s bound for radio rock glory. The fourth track, “Unity,” continues in the same vein as the title track, with a more emotional appeal contained within its piano and symphonic elements. This song demonstrates the prowess of the band’s instrumentals and the gleam of their choruses. Shinedown makes bands like Papa Roach, Three Days Grace, and Sick Puppies look like amateurs with their great scope of sound on Amaryllis. This can be demonstrated by the booming gracefulness of “Enemies,” which propels the song into “I’m Not Alright,” a dreamy, brassy song complete with horns.

The hook in “Miracle” is probably one of the best I’ve heard in hard rock in years. It’s one of the best songs Shinedown has ever done, and it should become a radio hit. The entire track benefits from its structural build-ups and crashing choruses. As Smith cries out “Let’s turn the water to wine one last time,” only for the song to explode into its hook one final time, chills ran up my spine. Following “Miracle” is another perfectly piano-tinged ballad in “I’ll Follow You” and a rocker with strickening melodies in “My Name (Wearing Me Out).” Acoustic closer,“Through The Ghost,” one-ups “Call Me” off The Sound Of Madness in every way. It sounds more epic, more polished (hint: the efficacious melodies and bells), and is all-around more memorable.

If you’re looking for the best mainstream rock album of 2012, look no further. I have full faith that you won’t run into another album this year that is as extensive, memorable, and as strong an aggregate as Amaryllis. The thing that makes this record so great is how immersing and irresistible it is. It will have you singing along by second listen and find you humming the hooks to yourself. Every single track is a hit, and now we will just sit and wait for each track to engulf radio stations across the country, as I have conviction that this record will soon be a classic.

Writing a 16 song album is something probably too ambitious for even seasoned vets of the trade. But for kids who at the time couldn’t even get into a bar? Crazy. While this album does have its flaws, which is to be expected from an album which sounds like it was recorded live in a bathroom with a single microphone, there isn’t really one filler track on this. Nor are there any tracks who necessarily sound similar. Yes, there are the classic pop punk jams like “All My Friends” and “Colorblind”, but those songs are leagues away from “Ants In My Pants”, which almost sounds like it should be played in a smokey basement jazz hole.

And really, the mix of pissed off pop punk and weirdo, quirk-rock (which is also pissed off, actually) is what defines Baseball. Bemis hasn’t quite found his groove and style as a songwriter, and as a result, these songs span the genre spectrum. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing, and in Baseball‘s case, it’s a very good thing. One of the most solid, and unfortunately most forgotten song on the album is “Showdown In P-Town”. This song sums up the general mood of Baseball, starting off with a quirky, jumpy riff before building into  grinding pop punk powerchords. And of course, Bemis’ signature pissed off lyrics tie the whole thing together. This writer’s favourite line on this album: “All that you can do is call me gay/Sorry, I don’t swing that way/even if I did, I’d still take a crowbar to your brand new car”. There isn’t many awkward kids who went through high school without getting called gay by a cool kid who’s definitely more attractive, suave, and probably smarter than them. Oh, and with more girlfriends. You silly gay.

There is not one bad track on this quite underrated, pop punk/rock/indie/jazz/whatevercore/acoustic? album.  It’s a breath of fresh air. It’s something new. It’s something creative. But most of all, it’s the start of something really great. And it would only get better.

At first, Spenceley threw me for a loop. By the eerie circus-like tinge found in the first song “Hope,” his vocal style was the last thing I expected. The longer the song went on, the closer I got to drawing that comparison I knew was stored somewhere in my iTunes library. After the song ended, I had it: Ghostree is the combination of mewithoutyou and Smashing Pumpkins. The dark sound, the weird vocals – everything lined up. Everything, that is, except the lyrics.

If the only thing Ghostree had were lyrics, they would be the equivalent of a gospel band. This alternative-rock UK-based band does not beat around the bush about their faith, but they make it less cheesy with their unique sound. The lyrics are all well written and paired well with the music. For instance, the second track “You They See” has a dark beginning that continues through the verses, yet the chorus picks up the pace by having a sing-along quality that would suit a youthful church.

Ghostree’s unique sound makes the blatantly Christian lyrics not hit as hard, and the contrasts between verses and choruses accomplish their goal of illustrating “the tension between hope and despair, between joy and sorrow, between love and loss.” It also opens up the whole Christian ideal to a group new to that scene by combining the sound with those lyrics.

For those who have yet to discover husband and wife Patrick Riley and Alaina Moore’s band, think of them as a beautifully nautical combination of La Sera and Best Coast: surf-rock meets noise-pop and time travels to the ’60s. Their previous release, Cape Dory, became an internet sensation; this may be due to the catchy, upbeat, likable songs, or it may simply be due to the story behind the album.

You see, Moore and Riley met in college, pulled all their money, sailed the Eastern Seaboard for nearly a year, then made an awesomely maritime retro-pop record that perfectly encapsulated their incredible experience. Many versions of this story have floated about: that the name of the ship was the Cape Dory, that they got married on the ship, that they never planned on making music together. Regardless, everyone loves a good story about two people in love traveling the world and making great music as a result.

Moore and Riley, with third band mate James Barone, have experienced a whirlwind from the start. They didn’t start out playing empty bars and then get discovered; their first show was sold out. The internet blogs and media were so abuzz about this band that they really never got a chance to slowly and discreetly come into their own. With the success of Cape Dory, they really had to outdo themselves for Young and Old.

With this added pressure, the trio felt that what they really needed to have a leg up on their previous releases was to hire an outside producer. This turned out to be a more daunting task than they expected, and they decided to seek out bands they knew had produced themselves for the majority of their career. The first band that came to mind was The Black Keys, and they contacted drummer Patrick Carney who quickly jumped aboard.

Carney’s influence is immediately evident in the record; this is a grown-up sophomore album that stays far from being a slump while not wandering too far from the beaten path that they have so expertly blazed for themselves. This is clearly more general pop-rock than the strictly surf-pop that their last album delivered, and each song has much more variety.

Barone’s drumming brings a much-appreciated upbeat tempo while keeping the songs steady and lighthearted. Similarly, Moore’s vocals perfectly complement the dreamy lyricism and add a unique charm to each track. “Take Me to Heaven” sounds straight out of a 1950s jukebox at a diner, while “Petition” is a cool, modern take on their sound.

This record generally keeps a further distance from the dream-pop of their former releases, and is less Beach House and more Cults or Dum Dum Girls. This isn’t a bad thing at all, though it may not be as captivating as the seafaring story behind Cape Dory and the emotional connection created by it. So, it may not be their best, but it is a step in the right direction.