Liz Carlisle
Big Dreams

You wouldn’t expect an academic who graduated with honors from Harvard to employ such a convincing twist of twang, but Liz Carlisle manages it well on the aptly titled Big Dreams. A native of Missoula, Mont., Carlise grew up immersed in the folk and country sounds that emanated from her father’s stereo, and those influences have remained with her since.

While Carlisle’s first album, Five Star Day, featured the cream of New England’s musical elite, her sophomore set took root in the down-home environs of Nashville. Not surprisingly, Carlisle’s tales of intimacy and infidelity—manifest in the earnest “Love I’m Leaving,” the caress of “Let Me Be the One” and the bittersweet piano ballad “Whiskey,” in particular—find a perfect country-music compromise between wry irony and heartfelt desire. “You got me thinking survival is a virtue,” she sings on “Upstream,” conveying her anguished introspection with an authority and credibility that’s completely compelling.

With this record, I went for an unabashedly strong celebration of the human spirit—particularly the human individual,” Carlisle says. “This is part of why the country influences really came through. It’s a tradition of very strong, starkly expressed feelings.”

While kudos have come from the Washington Post, the Associated Press and the BBC, support from Boston’s influential WUMB radio and the Boston Globe has been steadfast from the start. “Through the years I guess I’ve made some friends,” Carlisle suggests. “I’m a Montana girl, but New England and the Boston area have become a second home.”

lizcarlisle.com

Deborah Bishop
Just My Alibi

Born in Vancouver but sounding more like she was reared in the South, Deborah Bishop is a fiery redhead with a commanding presence. That’s evident in her melodies, all graced with instantly infectious hooks that exude a certain savvy. A past recipient of a Los Angeles Music Award for Best Independent Album, she sings with an authority and spunk that belies any hint of unseasoned status, while railing with a bold tenacity that suggests a comfortable middle ground between Rosanne Cash and Bonnie Raitt.

Its title aside, Just My Alibi is an unapologetic statement of independence and determination. From the brash, assertive title track to the tattered ballads “Crazy Feeling,” “Summer” and “When Tomorrow Comes,” she sings about love and loyalty with a riveting, electrifying delivery. Clearly Bishop is one to watch—and hear.

myspace.com/deborahbishop

Cheyenne
The Whale

It’s hard to get a handle on Cheyenne’s sophomore CD, but that’s not a bad thing. After some opening turbulence, the band turns charming and chatty with the title track, driving and determined on “Broken English,” wistful and reflective on “Cimarron River” and “The Curtain.” They’re all infectious songs bearing a somewhat surreptitious perspective.

The main constant in the band’s MO is singer/stalwart Beau Jennings, whose woozy yet knowing delivery occasionally recalls Ray Davies. They’re alternative in attitude only, with offerings like “Big Weather,” “Painting Horses” and “This Is the Fashion” displaying a predilection for both subtlety and sparkle. The gradual spiral of the melodies offers the impression these tunes sink in best after repeated listens, but even initial indications find Cheyenne an eminently intriguing bunch.

cheyennesongs.net

Doughboys
Is It Now?

The Doughboys, a Plainfield, N.J. combo that flirted ever so briefly with stardom in the mid-’60s, reconvene by replaying their sound, etched in R&B and cast with the imposing stamp of the Britain Invasion. Despite the four decades that have transpired since they last recorded together, there’s still zeal and tenacity in their seamless blend of vintage-sounding originals and choice classic covers.

Granted, Is It Now? seems more a nostalgic gathering than an attempt to further a musical trajectory. Despite varying solo successes—notably drummer Richard X. Heyman’s evolution into a power-pop icon—the songs and style of the Stones, the Animals and the Yardbirds still influence their collective efforts. Their musical time travel also includes “Route 66,” an apt choice for this sentimental journey.

myspace.com/thedoughboysnj

Katie Herzig
Weightless

Katie Herzig possesses gravity-defying powers on her latest release, balancing heavy and mournful lyrics with light pop melodies that bounce and float into the stratosphere.

Jack and Jill”—written with Kim Richey and featured on her Chinese Boxes album—contrasts a whistled chorus against a re-imagined nursery rhyme complete with human failing and missed opportunities. “Crazy” finds Herzig residing in a world where “everyone’s afraid to admit they’re getting old.” Thanks to added synths, the sparse arrangements of acoustic guitar and dreamy vocals sound more like “Wish You Were Here”-era Pink Floyd than the usual girl-with-guitar fare. Drums throughout the album are like an airy afterthought, helping Herzig achieve weightlessness indeed. —Mare Wakefield

katieherzig.com

Jubeus
Natural Mood

While displaying shades of Maroon 5 and Incubus, Natural Mood proves Jubeus are naturals when it comes to funky roots rock.

Breaking into the music scene as a college band in 2005, Mood is the Richmond, Va. natives’ sophomore release—and they’ve taken their sound to dazzling new heights. A variety of styles are exposed: “Lotus” is a mellow, feel-good tune, while “Let’s Pick Up Ourselves” qualifies as a successful flirtation with Latin pop. Tracks like “Silence” and “Until I Get There” suck you in from the first beat.

With their bass-driven grooves drenched with wah-heavy guitar riffs, synthetic organ and frontman Mike Jarvis’ stellar vocals, Natural Mood makes it clear that these college boys have graduated from dorm rooms and frat houses. —Laura Idema

jubeus.com

Jeff Larson
New Antiques

Singer-songwriter Jeff Larson can claim some formidable musical associates—members of America, Chicago and Brian Wilson’s band included. But there’s no need for name-dropping—Larson’s tunes are so unceasingly melodic, those previously mentioned aggregates might find themselves blushing with envy. The latest in a string of exceptional efforts, New Antiques provides another striking example of his creative craft via easy, breezy pop.

Larson’s West Coast sensibilities are summed up in the affable refrain accompanying “Hapless Sky”—“I’m moving, I’m moving on / Counting changes, song to song.” The wistful embrace of “Waiting for the Mail,” the gentle sway of “Morning ‘til Noon,” the delicate yet determined resolve of “Force of a Smile” and, for that matter, every track included on this alluring album affirm he’s progressing quite ably.

jefflarson-music.com

Sons of William
What Hides Inside

Brothers Joe and David Stark’s homage to their dad is heartfelt, but what’s most striking on this effusive debut is how quickly their band has gelled in a mere two years. With bassist Jen Janet rounding out their axis, What Hides Inside emerges as a richly melodic musical document, 11 songs that run the gamut from rampaging rockers (“Lucifer Hands,“ “Message”) to tender, aching ballads (“Easy to Love,” “Sympathy”) and various pop-perfect tracks in between (“Independence Day,” “Vicious World”).

The band makes no attempt to hide their influences—echoes of Tom Petty and the Jayhawks surface in these winsome offerings—but if there’s an occasional dash of the generic, it doesn’t make this effort any less appealing. There’s ample reason for Pop to be proud.

sonsofwilliam.com

Spanish for 100
Say What You Want to Say to Me

On first hearing—at least the first three songs—Spanish for 100 sound like typical Seattle insurgents: staccato guitars and relentless riffing. Fortunately, holding out for “Snakebite” and “Sweet Surprise” yields ample rewards, a focused middle core that reflects the benefits of hiring a bankable producer like Phil Ek, justly accredited for his work with Built to Spill, Modest Mouse and the Shins.

Not that Spanish for 100—who, by the way, haven’t a hint of a Latin influence—show a predisposition toward restraint. Even the good-natured swagger of “Limerance Be,” the lopsided bluster of “Thought Twice” and the uncommonly reflective “See Now” find their pensive perspectives undercut by turbulent interference. Songs like “Red,” “Attack” and “Sandria” are far more telling, bracing ruminations fostering an upstart attitude.

spanishfor100.com

Will Stratton
What the Night Said

It’s tempting to cast Will Stratton as another shoe-gazer, part of the continuum of Nick Drake’s dynasty that finds rambling guitar play, hushed vocals and mournful melodies providing transit into forlorn folkie terrain. But that denies Stratton his due. This radiant debut—recorded while barely out of his teens—is so eloquently expressive it achieves a standard all its own.

While Stratton’s devotion to Drake is evidenced throughout—clearly on “Lost the Fear” and “Fireflies”—his supple fretwork and ability to cast a willowy state of circumspect sets him apart. He parcels out deliriously beautiful and evocative sound bites, from the shimmering, spiraling opener “Katydid” to the serene piano play of the epilogue, “I Don’t Wanna Love.” Which makes What the Night Said unquestionably profound.

myspace.com/willstratton

Jack Sundrud
By My Own Hand

After helming country-rock combo Great Plains in the mid-’90s, Jack Sundrud’s musical stature was elevated by an invitation to helm Poco alongside mainstays Rusty Young and Paul Cotton. Now comes the moving, memorable By My Own Hand, a solo sojourn that finds him revisiting his roots.

Heartfelt back-porch ballads like “Hard Country,” “Father’s Day,” “Heartland Train” and “Modern Day Blacksmith” celebrate homespun virtues. The Eagles-like “Soul Searchin’” and a wistful, reflective “Living My Dream” (in which Sundrud dreams he’s running lights for the Beatles) reinforce the humanity and humility. Young and Cotton make cameos, but it’s evocative melodies and emotional reads that put a lump in the throat.

jacksundrud.com

Brenda Weiler
End the Rain

Written in the aftermath of her sister’s suicide and recorded in a single week, Brenda Weiler’s sixth album is imbued with a sadness and sobriety that befits such tragic circumstance. Etched with remorse (”I never expected something to happen / Something so wicked / Something so out of control,” she intones on “Out of Control”), these songs make the pain palpable.

Within these haunted environs are quiet musings, telling of shattered bonds borne via a weary strum. Yet for every example of tentative desire (“Not Forgiven,” “Wish for the Sun,” “Something Bigger”), there are also hints of reconciliation (“Noise and Sound,” “The Will”). Sparse and sublime, the music feels both intimate and compelling, the downcast arrangements casting an ethereal afterglow. It’s rare to witness a performance that’s so honestly affecting.

brendaweiler.com