Crystal Brights and the Silver Hands, “Fall of the Seraph.” Which sounds sillier here—the band name or the song title? Bright has a soaring operatic pop vocal style, which is underscored by heavy swirling chords. This sounds as if Amanda Palmer were unnecessarily refined and stripped of all urgency.

JEFF the Brotherhood. Before tackling the rest of the thing, I had to immediately check out a song called “In My Mouth.” It didn’t disappoint; a big heavy rock beat, a squirrely keyboard solo and a guy telling you about things he put in his mouth. I don’t remember JEFF The Brotherhood, which I’ve always dismissed as lame college rock, being so centered and classic-minded. “Coat Check Girl” could be by Status Quo or a similarly longlived generic rock crusade. “Black Cherry Pie” sounds like a parody of all things ‘80s. “Melting Place” has a deep Sabbathy opening. So many of the songs start with drums that you feel that you’re being summoned to a tribal meeting. And yes, T-shirt clad sweaty dudes, you are.

Michael Feuerstack, “Clackity Clack.” This guy would be Rod McKuen reborn if he didn’t temper some of his simplistic life-is-like-that lyrics and obvious metaphors with wild absurdities and some inspired musical accompaniment. Simpicity wins out. “Clackity clack, clackity clack.” The song’s on Feuerstack’s new album The Forgettable Truth.

Humming House, Revelries. This whole album is a chemistry experiment, gauging which folk and pop elements work best in the country soil from which this vocal group springs. I think the most overtly Country stuff works worst (references to trains and cowboys are just embarrassing) while a track like “This Hell Where We Belong” has it all—attitude, blues, plenty of room for both vocal and instrumental ranginess.“I Am a Bird” opens with whistling, like a ‘20s Gene Austin croon—before getting intense and thumpy. Full of surprises, this Humming House, even for those of us who tend to find harmony pop groups cloying and precious.

Frank Black, “How You Went So Far.” I was a big fan of Frank Black and the Catholics, not least because the rhythm section hailed from the Mark Mulcahy-led bands Miracle Legion and Polaris. The Catholics albums are where Black stopped being quite so ahead of his time and instead showed his roots—folks and blues interests which had been buried in the intense mixes of the Pixies and his solo albums. There are more complex lyrics, and they’re more intelligible. There’s nuance in the guitar playing. There’s no fear about slowing things down a bit, or letting a guitar solo go for more than two bars. The Catholics has a Beatles White Album feeling of basic appreciation for the classics—surf, folk, soul, FM rock. “How You Went So Far,” a previously unreleased demo which Stereogum has premiered in advance of a Frank Black & The Catholics—The Complete Recordings box set due out April 20 on the Cooking Vinyl label, is a fine example of how thoughtful and balanced and controlled Black’s songwriting was in this period. The Pixies fierceness and the solo poppiness may have been lost, but some remarkable depth was achieved.

Sufjan Stevens, “Should Have Known Better.” He’s been missed, not least because in his early career he seemed so prolific. Remember when all the talk about him was how Michigan and Illinois were just the tip of a 50-album project covering every state in the union? “Should Have Known Better” presages Carrie & Lowell, the new album due on March 31. It’s a confidently constructed pop song that hearkens back to early Stevens but with richer, deeper production. Like so much Stevens stuff, it goes on longer than anticipated, given how simple and direct and quiet it is. The extended sense gives it a transcendence, a meditative quality augmented by the pebbles-in-a-pool video.

Fabryka, “The Unheard.” A little Kate Bush, a little Tears for Fears, a little.. oh, you know, self-consciously ‘80s. But earnest, not a stylistic put-on. Some real emotion gets put across here. Nice dark moody video direction too. Even thought the band really doesn’t rock out much, it loks like they do.

Ruckazoid, Scratchgod I. Academia-friendly hip-hop vet DJ Shadow has found a kindred spirit in Ruckazoid, whose debut EP has just been released on Shadow’s Liquid Amber label. At the outset of the project, a mechanical voice tells us that everything on it has been created through scratching. This makes you listen to it differently, and treat it as an exercise or experiment. But even without the overt intro, that’s what it sounds like, taking pains to show you variety and scratching skills at the expense of more natural musical statement. Of the three tracks, “Let the Music Take Control” is the most contrived, with the most generic title. Still, old-school impressive turntablism has its own thrills.

Amanda Palmer, “Bigger on the Inside.” Palmer’s work is now partially subsized by Patreon, and tracks are coming out for free (though you can always donate if you like). After the pyrotechnics of the Grand Theft Orchestra, this is back-to-basics Palmer, so stripped down for her that there aren’t even banging piano chords, just strings—plucked guitar and some cello. The lyrics are one of those scanned, sinuous tone poems she’s known for. The music is sparse but full enough to build in tone and volume. And build it does, for nearly eight minutes, not unlike an early Velvet Underground opus. A neat little DIY epic.

I hate Fleetwood Mac with a passion—they were an easy enemy for young punks of the 1970s, what with a hit soft-rock that not only ruled the Billboard charts for a nauseating amount of months but changed a once-decent band from rowdy Brit R&B to L.A. lollygagging. But even with bands I despise I can usually find one song I admire. In Fleetwood Mac’s case that song is “Tusk,” which I’ve been known to play on the ukulele and which used a marching band as cleverly as Steam used cheerleading chants.
So The Afghan Whigs ingenious reworking of “Tusk” into their own song “I Am Fire,” live on the Jimmy Kimmel show March 9, was a certain kind of statement. Greg Dulli is a mature, sensitive popsmith with some punk roots and an appreciation for early Beatles that earned him a place in the Backbeat soundrtrack band alongside Dave Pirner, Thurston Moore, Don Fleming, Mike Mills and Dave Grohl. Nobody from that era, or those interests, references Fleetwood Mac indiscriminately.