I guess this is my favorite album of the year, since nothing else was this interesting by a mile. Sounds like what would happen if Keith Levene, Daniel Lanois, and Robin Guthrie were trapped in Guitar Center od'ing on Mebaral.

There are about 500 bands who do this, but they do it right. Guitars like slow-motion thunderstorms, filling songs that are ferocious and direct and sublime all at the same time.

If there is any doubt about the radness of this band by now, this should end it. We totally take them for granted, and they're still here, making the best American rock around, giving two flips about who's "getting it". Right on.

The words "shimmering pop" are written somewhere next to this album. That scared me away for months. That turned out to be a false alarm. It doesn't "shimmer" at all - it "impregnates".

If there ever was a thing called "country music", it ended right here. Despairing without being morose, twangy without actually twanging... this guy finally hits the jackpot. Songs like miniature movies, and (finally) production and playing to match. Everything fits, every piece perfect, unsettlingly direct and honest. Almost too good to be true.

By now no one cares, and that's great, because they're just playing for the heck of it to see what happens. Of course it's corny. Ashcroft's new lyrics (never a strength) reflect a man approaching middle age, and are more horrifying than ever. But the sound - the production - the nearly perfect guitar - this is a band far greater than the sum of its parts. Now if only they didn't know it.

I gave up nitpicking and finding ways to despise this, and just gave in to the fact that no one has ever tried to do music like this as freely and irreverently. It's not perfect, but the songs - earthy, cataclysmic, hopeful - authentically their own.