Tom Waits has had an incredible career in that he has managed to somehow careen in the opposite direction of most artists: his first records are his lightest, most palatable ones -- for example, Closing Time almost sounding like The Eagles at moments -- and his later albums just get stranger and more uncompromising with time. (It is impossible to deny that if Waits heard Real Gone in 1973, he likely would have fallen over.) He has also achieved something that I cannot say any other musician of his age has done, which is span several decades without making one lousy or even mediocre album. This accomplishment alone sets him apart from nearly all of his contemporaries. And with this in mind, we have his new release Bad As Me, an album that explores the musical territory one would expect, but does not whatsoever translate as mundane. It will come as no surprise to state simply that this is yet another beautifully alien collection of songs from the now 61 year-old legend.

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I'm going to start this new "album round up" for Three Imaginary Girls with the above recent You Tube video for Sean Rowe's "Jonathan": (1.) Because I think it's the best song off of his recent Magic album (recently given full treatment here) and though it's been out a while the video is new. More-so, it's starting my summer off all rum and cola-sweetly, buzzy and bubbly at dusk-time, and I want to share it with you because the tune still grabs my attention. (2.) That's to help set the tone for a regular column that will primarily focus on the best songs on the albums I'm playing, while taking care of full length business as economically as possible. This doesn't mean I won't be doing more full length album reviews; but they might get the test-run here before they get the full heat treatment. Or, as in Rowe's case, I might remind you dear reader of previously scribed-about music that I think needs further attention, probably due to a bright jelly ear-worm melting in the candy jar of my brain.

Now to a hit and run consumer guide starting in my iTunes, and running into my headphones and down through my fingers briskly with the assistance of a jar of cold, strong coffee and soy milk:

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When my wife heard this playing yet again on the stereo last night she chirped, "So you found a record you really like a lot? That's awesome!" Yes, Sean Rowe's brandy-baritone vocals from his ANTI- debut Magic have become as sonically ubiquitous in our apartment as, say, those by Dylan, Cohen, and most recently Van Morrison. Now, that's pretty heady praise to write those names in a review of a new artist, and I'd need you to check in with me this time next year to see if Magic is still pouring out through apartment #301 here above the Ave. But the fact that the juxtaposition is even presumed should tell you enough that there is unique promise involved.

Most of the praise I have for this full-length would better be used by the placement of a handful of the tracks on a mix tape to friends. Because it's a really, really good album -- but due to so many slow burners with similar tempos, the sequencing lacks a certain ingenuity. Still, maybe that's OK: The first of the ten tracks is titled "Surprise," and it's a hale, modest, romantic soul number that might have been better placed as the third track. A steady hand full of flowering imagery ("Your body shows up to take it all")... still, this is where the average consumer is going to look for the quick pop fix, and this is the closest thing to a Steve Winwood number Magic is going to give. (However, deep cut art song fans will love following lines like, "I found a little shelter inside of the sickness ... I want to bottle the night and use it on you when the night goes down.")

There is further proof that new singer-songwriter gods can possibly be born new, or at least their rhythms reborn through the cryptic night poetry and the plainly textured strum and thrum of their dusky song-blankets. It's when Rowe starts to caterwaul supernaturally halfway through "Old Black Dodge," like how L. Reed has been using Antony's otherworldly vocals to augment his more minimal sing-speak. "Wet" may have been a better opener; I can guess what it's about, but I love how (spartan) it sounds. Pretty much just a couple of acoustic guitar notes, over and over, with confessions about "leaving friends behind the graveyards with jars of rum" razoring out of the song's almost-stillness. Whether the kitchen knives and abusive boyfriends and moving are metaphorical, it all (as they say) rings true. Just as true as "Fast Car" from Tracy Chapman, and it's been a long time since alternative-kissed soul-pop has been both this pinching and relaxed.

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This not a test. I repeat: this is not a test. This is an actual ticket giveaway. (It's so good, I almost thought that we were kidding.)

The Swell Season will be stopping by the Paramount this Sunday, touring in support of Strict Joy which hit the shelves a few weeks ago at record stores across the States. The lucky winner will not only receive a pair of 14th row floor seats (!!!), but they'll also get a print of this limited edition tour poster made just for the Seattle date of the tour. Email tig@threeimaginarygirls.com with the subject line "StrictJoyInSeattle" to get in the running!

For anyone out-of-town that can't catch a Swell Season date on their relentless upcoming tour schedule, here's the link to Glen and Marketa's recent visit to NPR. (Click "Listen Now" at the top of the page for the full twelve minute interview on "All Things Considered".) I often will quip that performances like these are pull-the-car-over-and-stop kind of amazing, and that's exactly what this performance caused me to do. If you have the time, it's well worth the watch for both the sings and the interview. Enjoy!

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I want to sit you down and talk -- I want to pull back the veil and find out what it is I've done wrong, Glen Hansard croons earnestly. It's the first line from the opening track of the new Swell Season album, Strict Joy. The song "Low Rising" is at once classic Hansard -- heartache, folklore, anguished cries in the middle of a set of casual, life-altering sentences -- and also a gorgeous representation of what old fans will refer to as the 'newer' signature sound of the Swell Season. Hansard's achy, telltale traits are layered in with Marketa Irglova's delicate shared-lead vocals, which vary across the tracks from barely-secondary to her Damien Rice-esque lead on "Fantasy Man." Add in some catchy choruses, two parts major-label caliber production, and a few members of the Frames -- and you've got the perfect follow-up to the Once soundtrack.

Having been a Frames fan for quite a few years now, I was happy to hear the full-band style of the Strict Joy tracks carrying hints of a restrained, filtered-down hint of their tone, as Colm Maclomaire, Joe Doyle, and Rob Bochnik are all contributing members to the Swell Season sound. Which is not to pigeonhole the Swell Season as a side-project of any sort, as it solidly stands on its own legs among Frames and non-Frames albums alike. The dozen tracks wind the listener from the feel-good ache of "Low Rising" to the sad, haunted "The Rain," crossing to the distant, staring-out-the-window-of-the-train movie-scene sound of "Paper Cup." The beginning of the album never stalls out, laying out tracks cohesively one after the other, seamless but not too similar; constantly pretty and yet shot through with knife-in-the-gut writing that begs you to pull the car over and pay attention.

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Ok, so the brand, spanking new Tom Waits website went up today and the internets blew up immediately. My iTunes has more Tom Waits tracks than anything else 'cause I sure do love me that man. The website promises information regarding "news, releases, tours, films and more...a resource for lyrics, photos, wit and wisdom, strange but true tales, and more imponderables on topics as far ranging as the origin of consciousness, the sexuality of Christ and the lonely journey of the male seahorse." In other words, anything a serious Waits fan could ever dream of.

The new album Glitter & Doom Live will be released on November 24, 2009 and is a collection of recordings from Waits' 2008 US and European tour, 17 tracks in all. There are some special offers available for all the Waits fans out there:

1) Pre-order a whole host of merchandise, from T-shirts to tour books, CD's and LP's and any combination thereof here (long load time). I'm on the edge of my seat for the album extra "Tom's Tales" compiling all of his famous tall tales and random stage banter. I love his wacked out stories.

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For every blog that posts the song, and iLike user who adds it to his/her profile, Neko and Anti- will make a donation benefiting Best Friends Animal Society.

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Arm's Way equals punishment food.

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It's funny, smart, strange, loud, dark, and just damn fine rock music. In other words, it's the balls. Nick Cave and the boys have my full attention back.

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Sydney indie-rock quartet Youth Group tread dangerously close to the semi-hopeful yet melancholic territory that made Coldplay simultaneously annoying and world famous.

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