Kenny Chesney

HEMINGWAY’S WHISKEY

BNA Records

You see the song title “You and Tequila” on the track listing of Kenny Chesney’s 12th album, “Hemingway’s Whiskey,” and your eyes begin to roll instinctively. A song about letting go, maybe? About a night of good-natured frolicking, perhaps while staring out at the ocean? About how all meaning in life can be derived from the two things in the song title?

It would be the obvious route for Chesney, longtime purveyor of beach-bum wisdom, the man who once named his holiday album “All I Want for Christmas Is a Real Good Tan.”

But he’s after something darker here. “Made it up Mulholland Drive/ hell-bent on getting high/ high above the lights of town,” he sings, spare guitar in the background, never doing more than gently nudging with his voice. After a while, he’s joined by the soul singer Grace Potter, so distractingly brassy on her own records but careful and wounded here, cutting Chesney’s gloom. Written by Matraca Berg and Deana Carter, it’s one of the finest songs of Chesney’s career, a sudden bolt of darkness disrupting a blissful summer sky.

Chesney is playing with a different sort of relaxation here — not sun-bleached and fatigued, but genuinely troubled, and maybe narcotized. He’s never been a pushy salesman: His breathy, narrow croon is a neat fit for songs about not trying too hard, or not wanting to.

On “Hemingway’s Whiskey,” though, his voice sounds smoother and deeper than usual, and he’s using it to more potent effect. His version of the title track is of course far cleaner than Guy Clark’s, whose original take on it was practically withering on the microphone, but Chesney sounds studious and earnest. On “Where I Grew Up,” he praises life’s dark corners for their emotional impact as he sings about a boy watching his mother at her father’s funeral.

There’s only the faintest hint of salty ocean air on this album. It’s there fleetingly at the beginning of “Reality,” on which Chesney catalogs the things that help him escape: “For me it’s a beach bar/ or on a boat underneath the stars/ or with my band up on a stage.” But for the first time in years for Chesney, the escape isn’t the only thing in focus: Here he hints at the things he’s escaping from.

— Jon Caramanica,

The New York Times

Abe Vigoda

CRUSH

Post Present Medium

Abe Vigoda’s biggest problem is circumstantial. Ten years ago, their impossibly fleet segues, from synth-dance to Afropop to punk to prog, would have been a cause celebre in and of themselves. Today, they merely triangulate with peers such as Vampire Weekend, Animal Collective, and Surfer Blood.

Even the band’s home scene already has a flagship: fellow L.A. Smell venue veterans No Age. But “Crush” continues to prove that Abe Vigoda belongs in any echelon with these groups. From the gorgeous tropical synth hook in opener “Sequins” to the pounding punk title track, their on-a-dime dynamics and jumpy juxtapositions are as anthemic and fully formed as ever — until the second half turns into bad Interpol.

Unfortunately, the more Michael Vidal is forced into a proper front man role, the more his cartoon-Bauhaus vocals threaten to sink the band’s often arresting music.

— Dan Weiss,

The Philadelphia Inquirer

Jimmy Eat World

INVENTED

Interscope Records

“Invented” shows why Jimmy Eat World is one of the few bands from the Aughts’ Emo Explosion to survive the post-emo age. Whether it’s the epic “Little Thing,” with its soaring strings and grand guitar riffs built over the lyric simplicity, or the clever, airy “Stop,” which could easily have been on the new Taylor Swift album, Jim Adkins’ adaptable vocals make it work.

The stomping single “My Best Theory” and the buzzing “Coffee and Cigarettes” serve as links to the past successes like “The Middle,” but “Invented” soars with Jimmy Eat World spinning out new ideas.

— Glenn Gamboa,

Newsday

The Avett Brothers

LIVE, VOLUME 3

Columbia Records

When North Carolina’s pop-bluegrass phenoms the Avett Brothers signed to a major label and released a record that strayed from their banjo-fueled ragers in favor of piano-fronted ballads, they stayed true to their music and upped their international profile significantly. And “Live, Volume 3” — their second Columbia release — is proof that the band, at its core, hasn’t changed all that much.

The beauty of “Volume 3,” as with the band’s inimitable live shows, is in its imperfections. When Seth Avett flubs the intro to “Ballad of Love and Hate” — and recovers, gracefully and melodically — it’s an even bigger triumph when he finishes the polarizing ballad. And even though Scott Avett’s harmonies in “Shame” are slightly off-key, it’s worth a smile because fans know how rigorous the banjo player thrashes when he really gets jumping.

“Volume 3” is best with the band’s new songs, specifically “Head Full of Doubt, Road Full of Promise,” “The Perfect Space” and the now-ubiquitous “I and Love and You.” And the new material sounds just fine alongside the band’s oldies.

— Ricardo Baca,

The Denver Post

KT Tunstall

TIGER SUIT

Virgin Records

When KT Tunstall sings, it’s part coo and part growl. The singer has a slight edge, a jigger full of gravel, in her voice. And it’s so easy to listen to her do her thing. It’s sexy and scary, odd and alluring. When the songs match her choice vocals, Tunstall wins — and so do we.

On her latest, “Tiger Suit,” she uses her subtle grr-owl in upbeat songs that play off tribal-pop, jittery dance music and well-constructed indie rock. The CD-starter “Uummannaq Song” is an unbridled good time, a catchy jam that will get the party started.

While other songs aren’t as infectious (with a name like “Glamour Puss,” it should be so much better), some are every bit as likable. “(Still A) Weirdo” is a glitchy acoustic exercise in introspection. And when “Madame Trudeaux” kicks off with that janky guitar, it’s easy to listen to Tunstall’s jagged-edge approach to the blues — and it’s easy to appreciate the refreshing life that lives in her music.

— Ricardo Baca,

The Denver Post