Why? "Eskimo Snow"

Three plays in, and I can't shake the feeling that Yoni Wolf and co. have blown their unbeaten streak of fantastic records...

I don't say such a thing lightly. After all, I consider Elephant Eyelash and Alopecia to be two of the best albums released this decade. Yet Eskimo Snow has caught me off guard in pretty much every sense. I've been a little out of touch lately, and didn't even realise there was a new Why? album due until a few days ago. What they've offered is something very different to that which preceded it - it actually seems appropriate to tag Eskimo Snow with the word "mature," as though they've consciously decided to shake off any last vestiges of the hip hop stylings that are tied into the origin of the band, in favour of a sound that has more in common with the alt folk movement. Which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, but what they've offered is strangely flat.

Things start off promisingly enough. "These Hands" is a good opener, brief and understated with some fantastic lines (such as "these hands/are my father's hands but smaller") that highlight the subtle emotional depth that Yoni Wolf injects his songs with. Further proof of this is "This Blackest Purse," with Wolf asking "mom, am I failing or worse?" (another example of a seeming obsession with parents. There are others, too) before trailing off, clearly unconvinced that the answer is going to be to his liking. It's the strongest track on the album, bristling with a sadness that slowly transforms into desperation, scaling the heights (and depth) of the beautiful "Gemini (Birthday Song)". And "Into The Shadows Of My Embrace" is an excellent ditty (and yes, that really is the best word to describe it, at least as far as the fantastic intro is concerned) that serves as a necessary mood-lightener.

"One Rose" references both "A Sky for Shoeing Horses Under" and "The Kill Tone Two" (an Odd Nosdam track Wolf provides vocals for), which is a nice touch, in that it adds a sense of continuity to Wolf's oeuvre. But it also suggests that perhaps Eskimo Snow would have worked better as a companion to Alopeica, rather than as a standalone album. They did the same thing in 2005, to great effect - the Sanddollars EP was released a few months prior to Elephant Eyelash, and is arguably the stronger work. Most of Eskimo Snow manages to pass the listener by, which is the last thing you would expect from such a distinctive, inventive band. "January Twenty Something" starts off promisingly, but as it develops the percussion washes over everything else, and what remains is relatively bland. "Against Me" leaves no particular impression in its wake, and "Even The Good Wood Gone" makes it three similar-sounding and unsuccessful songs in a row, a passage that kills any momentum the album could ever hope to gain. Things do pick up in the second half - "On Rose Walk, Insomniac" and "Berkeley by Hearseback" are both more than passable - but not enough to raise the album to the level of its predecessors.

The lifelessness that pervades much of the album is a real surprise. Why? are never usually anything less than interesting, yet much of Eskimo Snow seems somewhat insipid. Maybe it's a grower (I'm clinging to the hope that this is the case). But initially, it sounds like something of a misfire. And from a musical standpoint, one of the biggest disappointments of the year.

Brendan Benson "My Old, Familiar Friend"

Brendan Benson's debut album One Mississippi was something of a revelation, a heady mixture of infectious pop songs and balladry that worked perfectly. He followed it up with Lapalco, which was solid, but lacked the inventiveness of his first. By The Alternative to Love - best described as "ponderous" - any remaining magic seemed to have disappeared, and as a consequence I almost entirely ignored his high-profile venture with Jack White (The Raconteurs). Yet whilst his fourth solo album offers definite reasons to be positive again, it also feels like further proof that he's content to stick to the middle of the road.

"A Whole Lot Better" starts proceedings off in a musically upbeat manner, with the song detailing the narrator's inability to decide whether or not the girl in his life is good for him - he keeps falling in and out of love with her, and cannot make up his mind one way or another (a wonderful breakdown sums up the dilemma perfectly). It has the kind of energy that powers nearly all of Benson's best tunes, and such is certainly the case on this album. The clear standout track "Poised and Ready" is fantastic straight-up rock, catchy as hell and fit to soundtrack any indie disco where the kids just want to dance. It also kicks off the best sequence on the album - it's followed by a couple of songs in a similar vein, "Don't Wanna Talk" and "Misery." Elsewhere, the slow build of "Feel Like Taking You Home" works perfectly, offering a balance between drive and restraint that the album benefits from; and the kitchen-sink-esque quality that runs through "Garbage Day" lifts it above most of Benson's ballads.

However, the "other" side of Benson's work is also on evidence here. "Eyes On The Horizon" is an uninspired, classic rock by-the-numbers effort; "Gonowhere" is a plodding track that, appropriately, goes nowhere, and "You Make A Fool Out Of Me" is pretty much identical to it. Songs like these serve to highlight the problem with Benson's output. About half of his songs can be filed under power-pop, and half under easy listening, and that kind of constant switching between the two vastly different genres comes across as somewhat schizoprehnic, and the gap between the highs and the lows is positively chasmic.

It is this level of inconsistency that makes My Old, Familiar Friend so difficult to recommend. When it is good, it genuinely is very good, but when it's bad, it ranges from mediocre to painfully dull, and ultimately, not really worth your time. It's only right to hold true to the belief that albums are intended to be heard as a whole, and the number of skippable tracks this one contains seriously damages its worth.

Moon

In the not-too-distant future, Sam Bell (played by Sam Rockwell) is the sole operator of a moon-based facility that mines Helium 3 - an alternative power source - so that it can be utilised to cater for the vast energy needs of Earth. He's coming to the end of his three-year contract with Lunar Industries, and can't wait to get home to see his wife and daughter. The opening scenes are beautifully paced, as much an exploration of human loneliness as an entry into the science fiction genre, as Sam goes about his daily routine, which reveals the isolation he is forced to endure as part of his job. Not only is he alone on the station, but the lines of communication that would enable live conversation with people back home have never worked, meaning that he's limited to the recorded broadcasts sent to him. And his only companion is Gerty, a talking computer voiced by Kevin Spacey.

The similarities between Duncan Jones's directorial debut and 2001: A Space Odyssey are more than just superficial, but Moon cleverly plays upon the expectations Kubrick's masterpiece have raised - about a third of the way in, there is a significant twist that takes the film down an entirely different route. Of course, the problem with films that employ this kind of narrative shift is that they're difficult to talk about without ruining for anyone who hasn't already seen them. Moon is no different - the first twist is just the beginning, as the truth unfolds slowly, one reveal after another, until the true nature of Sam's contract is revealed.

Whilst it might be difficult to discuss the plot without giving anything away, it certainly isn't difficult to recommend the film. Sam Rockwell's performance is magnificent. Tasked with carrying proceedings almost single-handedly (Spacey's role is minimal, although full credit to him for getting the tone of Gerty spot-on), he excels, giving further evidence of the reasons he's spoken of so highly. Well worth a viewing.

Modest Mouse "No One's First and You're Next"

Modest Mouse's 2007 release, We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank, cemented the band as a mainstream concern, in that it reached #1 in the US Billboard chart - something which would have been inconceivable for the band at the start of the century. Even third album The Moon & Antarctica - tamer than the efforts that preceded it - was still abrasive enough to dissuade most people. That said, the transformation the band have undergone makes perfect sense in the context of their entire oeuvre - it feels like a natural progression, rather than the result of a band actively striving to make more commercially viable music. But whichever way you look at it, it's hard not to argue that the results of this change have been much less interesting than their earlier output.

No One's First and You're Next exists in order to bring together unreleased tracks and B-sides recorded over the last five years or so. As would be expected from such a release, there are songs that can be described as throwaway: "Perpetual Motion Machine" and "History Sticks To Your Feet" are easily dismissed as inconsequential. "King Rat," meanwhile, simultaneously calls to mind "Dance Hall" and "Bukowski," although you wouldn't want it taking the place of either.

That's not to say that all the songs are misfires, though. It's interesting to try and find spaces for the better material of this collection on the last Modest Mouse album - of the stand-out tracks, opener "Satellite Skin" follows the template laid out by singles "Float On" and "Dashboard," whilst not quite matching their heights; "Autumn Beds" is a laid back, banjo-driven tune with a fantastic melody that should have taken the place of the similar but vastly inferior "Little Motels"; meanwhile, the epic/rambling squall of "The Whale Song" is much more interesting than "Parting of the Sensory" or "Spitting Venom." What these songs illustrate is that the band could have offered a much better album than We Were Dead (which trails off spectacularly after a strong four-song opening salvo). It's not that they didn't have the songs - they simply chose the wrong ones. Even "Guilty Cocker Spaniels" and "I've Got It All (Most)" are decent enough to have improved We Were Dead significantly.

Ultimately, then, No One's First and You're Next proves to be more interesting than their last full album, although it remains to be seen which direction the band will choose to move in come their next release. After all, this is essentially a deck-clearing exercise - hopefully, its release constitutes the band drawing this chapter of their history to a close, and moving onto to something a little different.