Long the flagship band (or at least the best-known) of the Park The Van roster, Dr. Dog may be wild-eyed, bearded and keyboard-centred like fellow Philadelphians Man Man, but with a gruffness much more subdued, popping up more in the Let It Be-like howls of co-lead singer Toby Leaman than any sort of Waits-y circus barks. Confident from the potentially hubristic title on down, co-founder Scott McMicken even goes so far as to call Fate "the first true Dr. Dog record"; his chirpier vocal turns, perfected on mid-album ballad "From", offset Leaman's brazen wails, best heard on "Army Of Ancients".

Those yips following ends of phrases, the indignant tone in the singer's delivery, the driving, no-frills, almost rock'n'roll structures--many things about these Philly newcomers bring to mind The Walkmen, not least among them the charismatic vocals of leader Adam Granduciel. Being passed around and enthusiastically discussed in these parts as well as at Other Music and elsewhere, Wagonwheel's straightforward songwriting, slightly submerged in electronics (check the liners' washed-out shots of pedals and synths) makes this band one to watch as word spreads about this impressive debut.  

Flipping on the fuzz for some incidental album-opening effects checks, Canning and co. reliably fall into Dino-inspired step on Something...'s title track, continuing to write songs tuned to their collective '90s indie roots while mining the malleability of '00s production potential. As artsy as Brendan and Broken's micing/mixing techniques, quieter confessionals or instrumental interludes may get (even experimenting with full-blown disco on "Love Is New"), BSS still know how to temper those obtuse inclinations with big-hearted modern-rock moments that almost anyone can enjoy.

The new Hold Steady record starts off with a bang--"Constructive Summer" is a raucous summer anthem in what is now typical Hold Steady style, meaning alcohol-infused storytelling, crunching guitars and sing-along catchiness. The album continues in this fashion with much success, even when the volume is turned down for "Lord, I'm Discouraged" and "Both Crosses", but it's the energy of "Yeah Sapphire" and the title track, among others, that will make the fans of this straight-up rock & roll record have it on repeat all summer long.

Opening a capella with 15 seconds of the sort of reverb-daubed harmony atmosphere popularized by Bears Panda and Grizzly, the stubborn racket that soon ensues ensures that no mistake can be made--Women stockpile their sound in their own inward way, fleeting comparisons be faintly damned. Although these Albertans' vocal sunshine is sturdy enough to hold up to other retroriginal Can-pop like Caribou and The New Pornographers, the mention of This Heat in the band's press kit holds truer than you'd expect, dipping into gritty fidelity, ambient creep and spidery guitar angularity at their whim.

Giving the rapping a rest, four-chord boppers "Gamma Ray" and "Youthless" stick out as the most single-friendly on a CD short and snappy enough to rarely slog. Chan Marshall sings on the unison choruses of "Orphans" and "Walls", seemingly more for camaraderie's sake than to assert herself into the mix, much more buried than, say, Will Oldham's Sun Kil Moon backups earlier this year. Danger Mouse throws small spanners into the works, such as the latter song's tinny two-bar snare loop; key contribution "Replica" has a dizzy hiccup of a drum sample as imbalanced as The Odd Couple's best beat or two.

Respected among his peers enough to be the recent subject of his own tribute compilation, and an especially huge influence on Ottawans from The Acorn on down, Mike Feuerstack's newest set is as classily incisive as usual, with producer and longtime collaborator Jeremy Gara (formerly of Kepler, now much more famously known as the drummer in Arcade Fire) careful to keep any slight chances taken on arrangements from overshadowing the songs themselves, particularly with "They Won't Believe You"'s tympani-type toms, horse-hoof clacks, french-horn harmonies and reverb-iced solo guitar.   

A labour of love decades in the planning, this beautifully-packaged two-disc deluxe reissue of Wilson's 1977 solo opus (only issued once on CD, way back in '91) is here at last--in fact, delays are still holding up P.O.B.'s proper Canadian release, making us one of the few places in town (and possibly the country) to carry this title at the moment! Paired with shelved 'lost album' Bambu, Dennis' wizened but still spry singing recalls Pussy Cats-era Nilsson, playing most of the instrumentation himself despite a long list of collaborators, including co-producer Gregg Jakobson and Beach Boys sessionist Carli Munoz.

Purse-lipped and sleepy-eyed on the black-and-white cover of this 1977 debut for Memphis indie Big Sound Records, Van Duren was waiting for a closeup that never quite came. Having grown up and casually played with Big Star's Jody Stephens and Chris Bell earlier in the decade, it's only fitting that when the time came for Duren's own material to be released, it too bore Anglo-leaning, proto-power-pop tendencies. Similar to Emitt Rhodes, Paul McCartney or Todd Rundgren, the piano work is as impressive as the rockers--songs like "Waiting" show he learned just as much from pre-Wings Paul as Chilton/Bell.

Like the Constantines' newest, keyboards gain added prominence here, with lead synth lines lending many tracks a somewhat more new-wavey sensibility than on the band's earlier releases. As long as Beck and Gary Numan don't decide to team up anytime soon, Boeckner/Krug will continue to have a unique push and pull at play, and while no particular songs are jumping out at this listener just yet, At Mount Zoomer has strong slow-grower potential. (Actually, hold that thought--"Kissing The Beehive"'s 9-beat riffing, vocal tradeoffs and modestly mousy disco-stomp breakdown's an epic last cut worth skipping to!)

More guitar-driven for the most part than 2002's Neon Golden, these Germans led by the stilted sincerity of singer Markus Acher regroup after spending more than five years concerned with the handful of other projects they collectively juggle, among them Tied + Tickled Trio, Lali Puna, Console and 13 & God (with anticon. crew Themselves). Not only should old fans of the band waiting for new material get their melancholic pop fix from The Devil, but there's also a good chance that admirers of newer acts that take a similarly wistful joy in the forlorn, from Hot Chip to Peter, Bjorn and John, will share the sentiment.

As well-rounded as you'd expect from a lot whose songcraft so suavely synthesizes styles into gently beatwise, tuneful pop form, Sound Selection is a mix compilation a la Late Night Tales or Back To Mine, valuing feel and, well, selection over perfect blending and matching. Soulful choral consternation from the Staple Singers and Redbone goes one-for-one with late-golden-age hiphop for the front half of this sequence (maybe even poking fun at comp-curation vanity in choosing De La Soul's "Ego Tripping, Part 2"), and the band's own "Left Foot Stepdown" fits right in after a double-dose of reggae.

Workplace stresses conveyed kids'-song-style set the tone on this first vocal Gonzales set of the post-Let It Die era, as the prankster entertainer gets seriously silly on Soft Power. "Slow Down" is the EZ-listening ballad you'd wish John Tesh played between Air Supply and Christopher Cross, step-up key change and all. "Theme From In-Between" steps in with piano-bar cheek that lets on that this is the man from that "Leisure Suite" four years back, while Ms. Feist herself issues the command on "Let's Ride", a full-on string-laced disco number splitting the difference between Patrice Rushen and The Bee Gees.

The third EP featured this week (!), this domestic debut (produced and co-written by Bjorn Yttling of Peter, Bjorn and John) packs the most pop punch of the lot, as Li uses its 15-minute format to best briefly state her case and make a memorable first impression. Bolstered by production with a spirit similar to Hanne Hukkelberg's kitchen-sink style or Gonzales and Mocky's work with Feist, "Little Bit"'s steel pan-like mandolin and the subtly whacked sax, trumpet and flute in the backgrounds of "Dance, Dance, Dance" and "Everybody But Me" prove creative enough to almost upstage their star.

Off to a galloping start, Alex Turner and Miles Kane's collaboration is anything but understated, with enough 'cinematic' twang, hall reverb and string parts (conducted by Owen Pallett) to suggest that the boys could be itching to escape said age for its 35-minute duration. Admirers may well enjoy Turner indulging his inner Walker Brother, but considering this project's clear ambitions, the arrangements often hang like window dressing; most of these songs could easily be reconfigured as Arctic Monkeys numbers. Still, if there's room for both The Raconteurs and The White Stripes in this world... 

Local synthpop oddballs Pony Da Look (named after an ex-roommate of theirs and ex-employee of ours, if you're so curious) resurface to find themselves now signed (along with Will Currie & The Country French) to longtime friends and supporters Sloan's revived Murderecords imprint. Number-one-fan Chris Murphy goes so far as to call the ladies' songs "witch music", and he's not far off, with the rest of the coven often chiming in to chant along with or against Amy Bowles' high-camp, bug-eyed brogue.

Whereas her self-titled '06 debut long-player came off like a demure girl-group of one, there's a presence lording over Sarah Assbring for her El Perro Del Mar persona's second CD, making the music even airier as the skies widen to bring in the Gothenburg Symphonic Choir and church organ as recurring components; even some massed recorders refresh the congregation on more than one occasion. With all these new vestments sanctifying the sparseness, Assbring's intonements seem both sadder and more hopeful, a sentiment succinctly put in "Into The Sunshine"'s wishes to "go back into the sun."

As unshakeable as Coldplay comparisons continue to be when it comes to Guy Garvey's default croon, Elbow's keen ears in the studio keep them a cut above, toying with touches like opener "Starlings"' startling orchestral hits that jump out of a burbling bed of arpeggiated triplets, or "Grounds For Divorce"'s gospel-blues tinge. Although it hasn't yet been singled out for UK chart action, the group'd be wise to let "Weather To Fly" out in the open, a song light and catchy enough to hang chorusless for as long as it pleases.

Although Rolling Stone wishes that "all guitar bands were smart enough to rock out this fast", to these ears the Newmarket foursome's first full-length foray best tackles its slower material, tracks like "The Harrowing Adventures Of..." and "Listen To The Math". The former spaciously stretches out in range as well as tempo with glockenspiel, acoustic guitar, stomps and claps set against cello and low baritone backups, while the latter puts mellotron washes over cymbal splashes and snare snaps before the requisite rock-out.

Gracefully grizzled, these Nassau St. knights return, touring with Castlemusic, whose backup cameo streak continues on "New King". Doug MacGregor's soul snare's still there on leadoff single "Hard Feelings", as on the 7/8 but elegantly three-chord "Brother Run Them Down." Will Kidman's keys give levity in the fluctuations of "Trans Canada" and "Credit River"'s phased swoops, the latter one of Bry Webb's most parable-like lyrics yet, while Steve Lambke sings lead once here, the Leslie-filtered "Shower Of Stones". Dallas Wehrle's ever-eagle-eyed art is strengthened by their A&C alliance, as the fold-out flyer attests.