Oppenheimer
Take the Whole Midrange and Boost It
(Bar/None)

Belfast-based indie pop duo Oppenheimer (Rocky O'Reilly and Shaun Robinson) join bubbly synth, guitar and percussion for their sophomore release, Take The Whole Midrange and Boost It. In a fast-paced, tightly-wound, 30-minute burst of mania, the album leaves you itching for more of the band's playfulness. It inspires compulsive dancing and thoughts of Technicolor fireworks, robots and drum kits—sitting still may prove difficult.   —Fraylie Nord

Bonnie "Prince" Billy
Beware
(Drag City)

Kentuckian Will Oldham's latest, Beware, is a laid-back, album-oriented concept release that blends old-timey Americana influences with modern production techniques and lyrical approaches. Soft and emotional, the recording has the vibe of a contemporary Old and in the Way or a country-heavy Sea Change—sometimes even evoking the sound of an old Patsy Cline record. It piles on the bluegrass instruments, but with healthy helpings of reverb, so it sort of sounds like it was tracked around a campfire—in a cave. The biggest props go to the bells and whistles section, which includes Robert Cruz on accordion, Wilco alum Leroy Bach on organ and especially Greg Leisz on mandolin and pedal steel guitar.  —Tom Sturm

Justin Pigott
Justin Pigott
(independent)

Local acoustic picker Justin Pigott's self-titled CD offers a first impression of sweet harmonics and strange melody, but turns a corner to a mean slide guitar. His bearded and flanneled look readied me for the standard singer/songwriter heart-tug attempt, but Pigott's skill and understanding of song structure stretches far beyond that of the open-mic crowd. "Freezing Rain Falls Over Otis" puts a folk twist on dissonance and metal. "Corn Whiskey When I Am Dry" uses an alternate tuning for a punchy bass line, like Piedmont blues without the syncopated lead—Piedmont punk, perhaps?  —Lee Taylor

Umphrey's McGee
Mantis
(Sci Fidelity)

Everybody wants to jump on the Grateful Dead "jam band" wagon, but the term is losing coherence. It used to mean spontaneous freeform jazz-like explorations of melodic themes; now it's slapped onto any meandering musical breakout. The latest case in point is Mantis. Umphrey's McGee can astonish, particularly with chirpy harmonies drenched in instrumental atmosphere evocative of The Beatles. But then there's stuff like "1348," in which the band assumes a Black Sabbath-like persona. Fair enough, but the attempt to merge the two is a force fit. Mantis has fabulous moments, but there's too much jam and not enough bready structure to contain it.   —Rob Weir