Ethereal (or “Etheriel”), that was always the word back then. But Lush‘s celestial shimmer represented only one element of their overall sound. The lower depths of the Lush bass and drums joined in to propel those chiming guitars and sweet yet haunting voices outwards, even taking the whole to some unforeseen places.

You’ve probably heard Hinds’ brand of fuzzy garage pop a thousand times before. The Madrid-dwelling quartet’s ramshackle, lush melodies hark back to historic indie merchants such as The Shop Assistants and The Sonics, while generating a shrill ambiance associated with more modern tykes like Wavves or Psychedelic Horseshit.

Conor O’Brien’s discography under the Villagers moniker is a restless one, as each of his three albums has carried its own distinct aesthetic, refusing to rest on the stylistic laurels of its predecessor.

In the press release for his band’s latest offering, Tell Me I’m Pretty, Matt Shultz of Cage the Elephant declares “We wanted to capture the sentiment of each song, and whatever emotional response it provoked, to be really honest to that.” At first, it’s tempting to investigate whether that’s an old quote regarding their last record, Melophobia.

It’d be easy for Jay Watson’s solo project, GUM, to be dwarfed by his involvement with Australia’s psych-rock poster boys Pond and Tame Impala, easy, but not fair. The comparisons write themselves, but his second record under the moniker, Glamorous Damage, doesn’t attempt to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the grandiose acidity of his various other projects.

The first of a series of collaborations on the excellent Mexican Summer label, Myths 001 brings together the charmingly sleazy alt-pop of one Connan Mockasin and Devonté Hynes’ infectious charisma.

Somehow able to continuously skate the cliff of insanity for extended periods of time without falling, Deerhoof is a true pearl of progressive rock (while still holding off on the proggy bullshit, thank God).

With each project essentially squatting on borrowed time, existence is fragile in the start-up world. Mike Donovan, a longtime staple of the San Francisco music scene, seems to have that frenzied mindset in common with his new neighbors.

The news of Pope Francis’ “prog rock album” went viral when it was first announced, but, like a lot of seemingly exciting things on the Internet, the concept turned out to be a little misleading.