With this second studio album, City & Colour is beginning to look less like a side project for Alexisonfire guitarist and co-vocalist Dallas Green and more like a fully fledged concern. Green has even roped in other musicians to help flesh out his solo sound this time around (although, confusingly, the album sleeve still states “all songs performed by Dallas Green” while simultaneously crediting extra musicians on all but two of the tunes), adding instruments like bass, mandolin, pedal steel guitar, violin, and even drums on a few tracks (including the shimmering Waiting…).

More important than these cosmetic changes is the progression in Green’s songwriting. While his debut Sometimes had a couple of great singer-songwriter numbers on it, it also had a lot of filler. Although Bring Me Your Love has its share of filler (the snooze-inducing Sensible Heart, for example), it delivers a much better hit-to-miss ratio.

The up-tempo two-part The Girl is a vibrant, banjo-fuelled highlight, and the lively jangle of The Death Of Me nicely sets off its introspective lyrics. But even the decidedly measured pace of Confessions is elevated by a memorable chorus.

The album is about two songs too long, but missteps like dawdling final track As Much As I Ever Could are more than offset by treasures such as the folksy Body In A Box. There’s an oddly cavernous ambiance on many of the tracks (including What Makes A Man? and Sleeping Sickness, which features guest vocals from The Tragically Hip’s Gord Downie), as if they were recorded in a large empty room – but outside of the studio, City & Colour is unlikely to be performing at empty venues any time soon.

Owen Heitmann

Californian weed-obsessed rock-influenced white hip-hop outfit Kottonmouth Kings have been dropping dope (in more ways than one) rhymes for more than a decade, and have released at least one album (often two) every year since their 1998 debut Royal Highness, plus several EPs. With 13 full length CDs (including rarities collections and a live album) to pick and choose from, there’s plenty of source material for this Greatest Highs (the title Greatest Hits From The Bong already having been taken), so much so that some releases are overlooked entirely.

This two-CD package includes 37 career-spanning tracks – ranging from their first hit Suburban Life (as featured on the Scream 2 soundtrack) to collaborations with Cypress Hill (Put It Down) and Insane Clown Posse (Think 4 Yourself) – drawn from ten of their albums (their debut and 2002’s Rollin’ Stoned are the most represented, with six and seven tracks respectively, while Hidden Stash III and Joint Venture provide only one song each), plus two brand new joints (Can Anybody Hear Me? and No Future).

Their straight-up rap and hip-hop tracks like King Klick and Where’s The Weed At? are decent, but it’s when they incorporate influences from other genres like punk (Outcast, Sub-Noize Rats), reggae (Peace Of Mind, Dog’s Life), thrash (Full Throttle), alternative rock (Positive Vibes), melodic stoner pop (Tangerine Sky, Rest Of My Life) or dance-rock (Day Dreamin’ Fazes, Peace Not Greed) that the group’s unique crossover appeal really kicks in. Light it up.

Owen Heitmann

US six-piece Defiance, Ohio have attracted a sizeable cult following over the five years since their first self-released demo, earning kudos as much for their independent ideology (booking their own shows – including last year’s Australian tour – and making all their recordings available for free from their website) as for their passionate and charming American folk-punk repertoire.

Their third album heralds a minor shift in sound, with Ryan Woods trading his upright double bass for an electric four-string. This allows a move towards more of an indie rock vibe on tracks such as Eureka!, a hipster love song. However, they haven’t become a standard rock band: BZ’s violin and Sherri Miller’s cello are if anything more prominent, particularly on the rhythmic opening track, Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop. The acoustic-influenced folk-punk of the past is still evident in the gentle twang and banjo of Anxious And Worrying, and their punk leanings are captured on the agitated The Years, The Fears, The Sleep.

At their best, Defiance, Ohio’s songs sound like a bunch of friends having a good time and inviting you to join them, and in spite of the recurrent theme of fear throughout this record, that inclusive feeling still shines through. Sprightly The List highlights the way they connect with the listener through the details of their own lives, and taps into the joy they seem to find in the mundane and everyday.

While the band’s musicianship has improved, the record still has plenty of appealing rough edges. I wouldn’t rate it as highly as 2006’s The Great Depression – despite the fact that Sherri provides plenty of backups, her lead vocals are missed, and the album’s so short that it feels incomplete – but it’s still a fine, honest release from a great band. Their previous records continue to grow on me, and this will likely be the same.

Owen Heitmann

Streetlight Manifesto’s long-awaited second album of original material (their sophomore release, Keasbey Nights, was infamously a re-recording of the classic debut album by frontman Tomas Kalnoky’s former group Catch 22) more than justifies the wait.

The seven-member band play ska-punk, it’s true, but calling it ska-punk seems too simple for musicians with this level of virtuosity (although they do stay true to the roots of the genre, rather than incorporating progressive elements like RX Bandits). The complex and technical nature of the compositions leads to extended songs (three of the ten tracks exceed five minutes), featuring instrumental detours like the cathartic conclusion to Watch It Crash. In particular, the four-piece horn section is unbelievably tight, and even more dominant than on previous releases.

At times it feels like the hooks have been sacrificed for technical proficiency, but the singalong title track, anthemic The Receiving End Of It All and the vibrant funk-influenced horn lines that follow the sombre intro to Down, Down Down To Mephisto’s Cafe (not to mention that track’s infectious chorus) put the lie to this fear.

Despite the intricacy of the arrangements, the album keeps up a clipping pace, so much so that (especially at first listen) the tracks can blend together. But plenty of differences come out under closer scrutiny – the mariachi moments of Would You Be Impressed, the metal riffing in Watch It Crash’s explosive opening, or the restrained beginning of One Foot On The Gas, One Foot In The Grave.

Exhibiting no pressure despite Kalnoky’s influential back catalogue, Streetlight Manifesto continue setting the benchmark for third wave ska groups with Somewhere In The Between.

Owen Heitmann

Angels & Airwaves’ second album is practically We Don’t Need To Whisper Part 2: despite the critical mauling Tom DeLonge’s post-Blink-182 outfit’s debut received, he’s stuck to his guns, creating more densely layered, grandiose, eighties-sounding rock that combines Joshua Tree-era U2 guitar riffs, sweeping space-rock keyboards, bombastic chiming choruses and effects-laden whining vocals.

So, if you liked the first album, you can expect much of the same. If, like me, you hated the first album, however, there is some hope: there’s more excitement in the opening of Everything’s Magic than in the entirety of Whisper, thanks to its whip-snap tempo, and DeLonge actually spitting out the lyrics instead of droning on and on. Likewise, Sirens goes some way towards recapturing his past knack for a hook, and Secret Crowds actually has a bit of punch to it, initially at least. Meanwhile, the autobiographical Rite Of Spring seems out of place, sounding (ironically) like +44.

However, the rest is often repetitive. First track Call To Arms is a virtual rehash of everything that made the last album so bland, and Love Like Rockets struggles to capture the euphoria DeLonge expresses in his lyrics. Breathe, which offers a quieter interlude, still suffers from being overlong, a problem which plagues the album. Five and six minutes songs are the norm – even the two-minute instrumental Star Of Bethlehem is essentially just a preface to the six-minute True Love.

DeLonge is still a megalomaniac – on Secret Crowds he muses about what he’d do if he had a world of his own – but at least he’s a benevolent one (“there’d be no more war, death or riots”). Similarly, I still don’t like Angels & Airwaves, but at least I-Empire is a small improvement.

Owen Heitmann

Releasing a double album is always a bold move for a musical act; I can’t think of any band that has managed to pull it off without including some filler. When you’re a precocious 23 year old and decide that your band’s second major label record is going to be a two-disc, loosely-autobiographical concept album tracing the ups and downs of your first long term relationship, the level of chutzpah involved is almost breathtaking. However, Max Bemis, frontman of alternative rock band Say Anything, doesn’t fare too badly with In Defense Of The Genre.

Given the ambitious nature of the album – did I mention it features over 20 guest vocalists from notable bands such as Taking Back Sunday, Dashboard Confessional, My Chemical Romance and New Found Glory? – it’s tempting to read too much into the artwork, which depicts a battle between children and geriatrics, especially given that disc one seems designed to correspond with youth and disc two the elderly. However, there’s no real generational musical theme separating the two CDs: both predominantly feature the blend of pop-rock, emo and melodic punk that has won the band a passionate underground following, and the exceptions (the synth-driven, dancefloor-oriented Baby Girl, I’m A Blur, minimalist Goodbye Young Tutor, You’ve Now Outgrown Me, cabaret show tune That Is Why) are spread equally over each side.

A tendency to switch tempos and change styles within the one song could be considered showing off, but the frills are balanced by the profusion of hooks and the strength of core songs like the rocking highlight People Like You Are Why People Like Me Exist, awesome Vexed, angsty Have At Thee! and poppy This Is Fucking Ecstasy.

At nearly 90 minutes, In Defense Of The Genre is difficult to come to grips with at first, and it inevitably could have been stronger if it had been condensed, but there are surprisingly few dull spots over the record’s 27 songs. A strong case for the defense.

Owen Heitmann

A Wilhelm Scream are frequently compared to Strung Out, as both play highly technical, metal-influenced hardcore punk, but it’s a superficial resemblance – A Wilhelm Scream are in a class of their own, and their third full-length on Nitro Records proves it, showcasing yet another step up in the US quintet’s already incredibly tight musicianship.

The band promised that this album would be extremely fast, and the minute-long breakneck opener I Wipe My Ass With Showbiz leaves no reason to doubt them. There’s barely any letting up for the remainder of the record – the bass and drums intro of Die While We’re Young promises a respite but it’s only seconds before the frenzied guitars kick in. While the prog-influenced The Horse and closer We Built This City! (On Debts And Booze) hover around five minutes and Get Mad, You Son Of A Bitch! is nearly as long, accordingly allowing room for the pace to drop from light speed to just fast, the other ten songs come in one- and two-minute bursts of white hot ferocity.

The band dazzles as guitarists Chris Levesque (who left the band shortly after recording) and Trevor Reilly trade solos and razor sharp riffs, vocalist Nuno Pereira sings and screams catchy vocal lines (with harmonies from Reilly), new bassist Brian Robinson provides jaw-dropping licks (check out his solo on Jaws 3, People 0) and drummer Nicholas Angelini shows his stamina by driving the blistering tempos.

The complex interplay of 5 To 9 (the first song released from the album) is indicative of the record, but despite the intensity there is also enough variation to differentiate the songs, from the vocal harmonies of Cold Slither II to the melodic chorus and tempo changes of These Dead End Streets or the musical dexterity of standout The Horse.

Career Suicide? Career highlight, more likely.

Owen Heitmann

While Dashboard Confessional built its early reputation on Chris Carrabba’s acoustic guitar and emotionally honest and revealing lyrics, successive releases have seen the outfit’s sound shift, accommodating the transition to a consistent full band lineup and losing much of Carrabba’s angst for an almost adult contemporary rock feel. Although commercially popular, albums such as Dusk And Summer have distanced Dashboard from their original fanbase. The Shade Of Poison Trees is a largely successful attempt to reconnect.

You can’t go home again, of course, and the completely naked intimacy of the past proves elusive, but the acoustic urgency of Where There’s Gold… is a welcome return to begin the album with, and even with the full band on board, first single Thick As Thieves captures a lightness of touch that’s been missing from their recent releases. It’s delightfully easy to sing along with Carraba’s familiar, slightly quavering vocals.

Although it’s not an all-acoustic solo album, the stripped-back acoustic numbers dominate, thanks to the strength of cuts like Keep Watch For The Mines and the clarity of Little Bombs. The full band, on the other hand, are particularly good on the loping Matters Of Blood And Connection, a sneering put-down of slumming rich kids which pointedly asks, “Why do you speak with that accent now? Everyone knows you’re not from the streets”. However, the robotic drums underpinning Fever Dreams go against the organic feel of the record, and the title track is really a pretty dreary yawnfest.

Yet while The Shade Of Poison Trees isn’t perfect, it wouldn’t be too far off the mark to call the 34-minute album a return to form.

Owen Heitmann

Last Of The Believers have an impressive punk pedigree, with their lineup including guitarist Chris Chasse (formerly of Rise Against) and Brett Rasmussen (bassist for Ignite). This debut EP more than lives up to expectations, offering not only solid writing and performances but also an unusual breadth of scope.

Fists Up is pummelling hardcore with plenty of gang vocals, akin to Comeback Kid or With Honor, and the incendiary Dissent and breakneck Workhorse (featuring guest vocals from Throwdown’s Dave Peters) are in a similarly relentless vein. Yet these tracks are interspersed with positive, melodic anthems: the mid-tempo You Get What You Give and yearning Throwing Matches, which almost sound like an entirely different band, although one common factor is the consistently compelling quality of the songs.

It will be interesting to see if Last Of The Believers maintain this diversity on their upcoming full length album or focus more on one or another of the extremes they’re equally capable of – but whatever the outcome, based on this taste it will be well worth looking out for.

Owen Heitmann

All Time Low play straight-up pop-punk with no aspirations to reinvent the genre, or do anything more on their second full-length album (their first for Hopeless Records) than write catchy, buoyant anthems like they’re direct descendants of Blink-182 and Green Day (if not the Descendents themselves).

Remembering Sunday is the most adventurous track, bringing acoustic guitar and strings into the mix, plus guest vocals by Juliet Simms. But it’s the exception on an album that mostly relies on familiar-sounding songs like Vegas. Listeners have heard this all before – in fact, opening cut This Is How We Do begins like a close cousin of Wrong Way by Over It, and I keep finding myself singing the words from Farewell’s First One On The Blog over the breakdown in Shameless.

Clever lyrics can often lift this type of music above the crowd, but wordplay on this album is limited to the likes of “Boys, raise those glasses, girls, shake those – - get up! Get up!” on This Is How We Do or the title of Holly (Would You Turn Me On). The subject matter also retreads all too familiar territory, celebrating good times or mourning failing relationships. Come One, Come All is a welcome change of topic, railing against a radio DJ whose “playlist is killing me” (presumably he wasn’t playing enough Good Charlotte).

But one senses All Time Low aren’t even trying to break new ground, and moments like Let It Roll and the infectious stuttering chorus of The Beach press all the right buttons for undemanding listeners seeking a party soundtrack that’s easy to sing along to. Plus, bonus points for the amusing copyright warning that pirates will “have their homes burned to the ground by the band”.

Owen Heitmann