Editor's note: These reviews were contributed by Clifford Allen.

For their decade of existence, Come – the band fronted by guitarists-vocalists Thalia Zedek and Chris Brokaw – were never exactly stylistically schizophrenic. Their music was often a certifiable "fuck in a cathedral" in its shocking intensity, dovetailing and intertwined guitars atop a pummeling churn, yet somehow velvety and engulfing in their broad strokes of texture. Yet some might say that their tunes were characterized by sameness, failing to see the environmental quality of music that spins out like a series of chapters in a novel. Zedek's fourth album as a solo artist, Liars and Prayers, somewhat follows the pace set by Come, albeit beholden to a different muse. She's joined as usual by drummer Dan Coughlin and violist David Curry, as well as pianist Mel Lederman and bassist Winston Braman on eleven originals.

Though her Thrill Jockey debut, Trust Not Those In Whom Without Some Touch of Madness, is full of arc and winnow, it's a sparser affair. The canvas woven here is denser, a seeming follow-up to and expansion of the sprawling work laid out toward the end of Come's lifetime. The opener, "Next Exit," is mostly a 6/8 gallop fleshed out by sawing viola and oddly romantic barrelhouse from Lederman's piano. Curry switches to trumpet for the next piece, infusing the halting surge of "Lower Allston" with a Moorish spin and stately keen. There's a telescopic stretch to "Do You Remember," plaintively urgent as Zedek's minor key plucks are echoed by chiaroscuro viola scrapes. The sense of confusion and loss in Zedek's lyrics is simple and utterly direct, in an age of opaqueness as obvious as a hand grasping one's wrist.

This writer has long been curious what could happen in Zedek's music were there an opening for improvisation. There's a hint of that in "Body Memory," where her scumbled guitar and Curry's double-stops seem to tug the rhythm section into near-free time. Curry is a subtle weapon, his ponticello adding an undertow that often pulls the music into other areas, implying a greater amount of sound than is actually there. Though Zedek's muse is clearly one of a singer-songwriter who knows how to orchestrate while retaining personal immediacy and even the informal from her band mates, the expansive palette offered in her recent work is something that perks the "what if" ears. Liars and Prayers is another compelling chapter in Zedek's oeuvre, certainly not the last.

Thalia Zedek [MySpace] [Official]

There’s an adage that one shouldn’t over-intellectualize one’s subject, that writing about areas infused with the vernacular like the blues or graffiti art should be steeped in their very nature. Rock critics straddle that line often, either de-gritting or over-hipping their connection to that which they are passionate about. The music itself brings out that difficulty, for it often comes as much from the head as the loins. Austin’s Those Peabodys are a case in point – a sweaty, manic bar-rock band with the metronomic precision of Lungfish, it’s hard to know what to do with them from a writer’s perspective.

Pared down to a three piece for Animal Saturday (only their third disc in a decade) with guitarist-vocalist Adam Hatley, bassist-vocalist Clarke Wilson and a recent addition in drummer Erik Conn (ex-Stick), the band hurtles like a well-tuned GTO on tunes like “Bal Atac” and swaggering blue-collar anthems like “Working Nights,” which carries within it a slinky undercurrent of particulates that recalls a Jehu/RFTC influence. Conn is perhaps a secret weapon, turn-on-a-dime precision and tremendous weight underneath, above and behind the stomach churning thrum of Wilson’s bass and Hatley’s rhythmic guitar peals (who is himself an excellent drummer in other guises). There’s nothing ironic or snide in the music’s delivery, for it often seems as though three young guys can’t play meaty rock with intelligence. “Harm’s Way” might have a hint of Mark Arm-sneer in its underdog defiance, but the mass of a ten-pound ball bearing is on its side. There are hints of panty-hurling glam in the unwavering tumble and thump of “Suggestions in Seduction,” enough so that even the indie-boys might want a taste. Too stripped down to merely let their hair down, Those Peabodys are a regional secret that would do well to be less kept.

Those Peabodys [MySpace] [Official]

These reviews were contributed by Clifford Allen