Music and Recording Reviews

Zach Bryan: With Heaven on Top
Belting Bronc (auditioned as CD). 2026. Zach Bryan, prod.; Gabe Wax, eng.
Performance *****
Sonics ****

Like many country legends before him, Zach Bryan has lived a life beyond music, and it shows up unfiltered in nearly every song he writes. The Oklahoman has been tested, and those experiences have shaped work defined by authenticity and emotional weight. They've also made him a figure deeply loved and, if the stories are true, occasionally loathed. All of which strengthens music that resists radio polish while breaking attendance records in arenas across the country.

This new album makes clear why Bryan commands that kind of devotion. The record feels intimate, almost like a diary, chronicling miles logged across America in pursuit of songs and connection. Bryan sings about small, specific moments: meals in diners, buying malt liquor in Ohio. Between those simple acts, the candor of someone wrestling with himself emerges, sometimes directly, other times through sharp, revealing asides. The result is a message both electric and sometimes alarming.

The album is also filled with unconventional choices. "Appetite" soars on horn arrangements that recall a glittering 1970s rodeo, set against lyrics that question the spectacle they inhabit. Elsewhere, Bryan channels Midwestern honesty reminiscent of John Mellencamp at his peak; "Say Why" could slip seamlessly into a Lonesome Jubilee box set. "Santa Fe" builds on that spirit, bluegrass accents lifting the song into something resembling an open-road chant.

The accompanying acoustic version of the record serves as compelling counterpoint, sounding as though it arrived straight from the songwriting sessions. It strips away any lingering notion that this is merely arena-sized country-rock and reinforces a simpler truth: These are songs built to connect. And they do, because they're honest, unguarded, and good enough to stand on their own. The acoustic guitar work ain't bad, either.—Ray Chelstowski

Counting Crows: Butter Miracle, The Complete Sweets!
BMG (auditioned as an LP). 2025. Brian Deck, prod.; Tchad Blake, eng.
Performance *****
Sonics *****

It took a four-song EP in 2021 to get Counting Crows back into the studio mindset. That release proved to be more than a test run. It laid the groundwork for the band's first full-length album in 11 years. This new record is their strongest work since their early, defining run in the 1990s.

The production is more present and contemporary than their mid-'90s output yet deeply connected to the band's roots. The sound is instantly recognizable: Guitars hit with a little more force, while thoughtful arrangements are softened by guest contributions on trumpet, violin, and cello. The balance between muscle and nuance suits the band well, giving the songs both immediacy and depth.

Adam Duritz continues to explore themes that have always anchored Counting Crows: loneliness, dislocation, alienation, and the uneasy realities of fame. Those ideas surface immediately on "Spaceman in Tulsa," where Duritz sings, "Man, I was the toast of the town / Back when everyone knew where to go." The track is radio ready and recalls the breezy momentum of "Mr. Jones," gliding forward with confidence and energy. But as with the band's best work, the storytelling binds the album together. Duritz frames the song around the character Bobby, who reappears later on the Springsteen-inspired rocker "Bobby and the Rat-Kings," providing the record with a narrative thread.

"Under the Aurora" may be the album's strongest moment. Built on piano and drums, the song grows from an intimate opening into a full-bodied anthem, remaining bold and expansive to the end.

This album marks a return to form. The long hiatus, which Duritz has attributed to burnout, feels firmly in the rearview mirror. If this album is any indication, Counting Crows have reemerged with renewed focus, confidence, and a voice that remains both familiar and important.—Ray Chelstowski

The Damned: Not Like Everybody Else
earMUSIC (24-bit/192 kHz streaming). 2026. Mikal Blue, prod.; Mikal Blue, eng.
Performance *****
Sonics *****

The Damned were one of the first British punk bands, formed in 1976, which makes 2026 their 50th anniversary. This covers album not only marks that milestone but pays tribute to founding guitarist Brian James, who died in 2025. Old-school fans will be pleased by the return of drummer Rat Scabies, who hasn't played with the group in 40 years. The lineup includes two other original members, singer Dave Vanian and guitarist Captain Sensible (originally the bassist), plus bassist Paul Gray (since 1980) and keyboardist Monty Oxymoron (since 1996).

Even listeners who care nothing for first-generation British punk may find tracks to enjoy on this eclectic and imaginative collection of songs from the 1960s. None of these were originally punk songs, a reminder that The Damned have performed in a range of styles over the years.

Some songs come from nearly forgotten sources, such as the short-lived band The Creation, whose "Making Time" gets a grungy airing. "You Must Be a Witch" is a heavy rock-out from the even shorter-lived American band The Lollipop Shoppe. Motown songwriter R. Dean Taylor's "There's a Ghost in My House," the opener, earns its exposure thanks to Vanian's unsentimental delivery.

The band dug thoughtfully into the catalogs of some major stars. "See Emily Play" is more earthy than the Pink Floyd original, while Vanian's vocal on the Kinks' "I'm Not Like Everybody Else" hints intriguingly at desperation. "Summer in the City," easy-breezy in The Lovin' Spoonful's version, now has a bass-heavy grittiness. And the Rolling Stones' "The Last Time" becomes a touching highlight as it features archival excerpts of Brian James himself on guitar.

Far from their wild, angry beginnings, The Damned seem to just be enjoying the music on this one. It's contagious.—Anne E. Johnson