Transition, self reflection, found percussion.

"Transgender Dysphoria Blues" has been eagerly anticipated for a while now, because of the backstory: lead singer Laura Jane Grace (formerly Tom Gabel) came out as transgender in 2012, and this was to be the first album since that revelation. So many questions: would her voice sound different? (Nope. Still freakin' unreal and focused.) Would the band's sound be different? (Yep. Stripped down, more punk, less produced.) It still carries a strong pop sensibility, but lyrically, it's more emotionally-charged and brutally honest than ever before.



One listen to "Eighteen Hours of Static" by Big Ups, and you might feel like you're in high school again—in the best, bright-eyed-and-idealistic-school-kid kind of way. Because Big Ups is punk with socially-conscious lyrics designed to make you feel things about stuff. And with their pitch-perfect, ultra-earnest delivery, it's hard not to. In their slower, more subdued moments, like the beginning of the track "Wool," they call to mind Fugazi, but they often switch gears and tempos mid-song, quickly careening off into frenzied distortion.

Here's the deal with Willis Earl Beal (that entire preceding phrase needs to be a book title someday): this guy started out in Chicago, attracting attention and an audience by posting flyers. FLYERS. On his album "Nobody Knows," he pairs his evocative baritone voice with a songwriting style that calls to mind "Bone-Machine"-era Tom Waits in its eccentricity. Though he sometimes performs with Cat Powers, as good as she is, she seems to detract from the main event. Beal's lyrics are shockingly (and refreshingly) frank, and his recurring theme of disconnection is something that's very relevant. This is experimental music with soul.

The first song I heard from the latest Cass McCombs album, "Big Wheel and Others," is a track called, "There Can Only Be One"—a sweet, bouncey, Dylan-esque love song with a bass line carrying the melody. And I'm sure glad I didn't stop there: McCombs is a skilled storyteller, and a master of using traditionally country guitar effects in a modern way. It's an ambitious album, both for the artist and for the listener, at 85 minutes long. But this is one that grows on you, and reveals itself over time in subtle and surprising ways.