Many great rock ‘n’ roll bands fly under the radar without achieving much exposure, and end up dying an ugly, slow death without having a chance to develop a following — only to be appreciated decades after their demise. Other mediocre rock ‘n’ roll bands get sucked up by corporate record labels, receive an “indie” makeover, and have their music over-produced, only to be regurgitated on the airwaves for dumb teenagers to slurp up.

And some manage to maintain a sound that is not accessible enough for the mainstream radio waves, but can still cultivate a fan base of people who love good, independent, and authentic rock ‘n’ roll. True Lovers have done just that. Hailing from NYC by way of New Zealand, True Lovers have emerged with a piece of rock gold in the form of their debut self-titled LP. It’s what rock ‘n’ roll should be: dirty, loud, offensive, under-produced with a good bit of soul infused and wailing guitar solos strategically placed throughout.

At times, True Lovers comes off like Make-Up or Weird War, especially on tracks “Death Threat” and “Lady Of The Manor,” or even The Mooney Suzuki on “Bang Bang.” Other times, True Lovers exhibit clear influences from The Rolling Stones (circa Exile On Main Street), like on “Guilty Pleasure #9” and “Makes A Fool Out Of Me.” And yet a flash of decadence remains in their Wolfmother-esque solos on tracks like “Cougar.” True Lovers play all the good parts of rock ‘n’ roll, applying an amalgam of the genre’s best attributes and wrangling them into a sex-fueled lyrical onslaught of songs mostly about women. They step on the gas in explosive solos, only to then slow it down to a slithering sexual grind and finish the whole thing off with some honky-tonk blues. By Pete Viele

There is plenty of self-proclaimed mathematical organization on this self-titled release by Rooms. Operating under the ever-present fear that someday math would force its way back into my life, I was loath to understand the concept of the genre years ago before the forces or Mars Volta or Yo La Tengo. Rooms are the type of group among a small list of others who will help if, like me, you face this dilemma.

Matt Askren and Kevin Toole present passionate vocal talent, guided by the tight drum work of Ben Traub and taut bassiactrics of Andrew Greenburg. Rooms maintains energy yet lacks extreme diversity. Luckily, the energy and instrumental skill level of the members is so above par that there isn’t a single song that presents a notable twinge of displeasure. 

I always imagine rocket scientists as thin, cigarette-smoking men with short-sleeve button downs, slicked hair, and thin black ties. They have ultra confidence and dozens of red buttons in front of them that could destroy the planet. If this is true, and is reflected in the way Rooms appear on stage, this band might be really interesting. By William Port Whales     

The creative process can be a cruel mistress, particularly when the demand to repeat or expound upon previous works weighs heavily upon the artist. For Plants And Animals, the expectation was high to follow up 2008’s Parc Avenue. And having tweaked their original sound towards an emphasis on amplified electric guitars and fuzz pedals, La La Land is not quite what fans were expecting.

It’s as if these guys wanted to make a combination between the alt-country twang of Son Volt and the urgent agitation and orchestral treatment of Arcade Fire. With bookend tracks “Tom Cruz” and “Jeans Jeans Jeans” being the most indicative of this formula, other tracks are left to saunter in La La Land (pun intended) on songs like “Undone Melody” and “Celebration.” While “American Idol” and “The Mama Papa” are probably the catchiest and most enjoyable melodies, they still leave the listener wanting a deeper composition.

With production ramped up for this Montreal-based trio and the amps cranked to 10, Plants And Animals attempt to achieve a more energetic sound. But as it only flashes for a moment, their ability to produce definitive hooks wanes quickly. For all of their efforts in departing from their past sound, they manage to make a record that sounds like college radio rock, but with a few glimpses of brilliance. By Pete Viele