I got my first listen yesterday of new albums by the Shins (Wincing the Night Away) and Low (Drums and Guns). To be fair, there is absolutely no basis by which to compare these two, other than a common label in Sub Pop.

But I have to admit: I was far more intrigued by getting a crack at Low’s album than the Shins. Nothing against the Shins, really; they’re swell and all, though I’ve never been particularly floored by what they do.

More likely, the spacious and aggressive (for Low, anyway) tones of Low’s previous release, The Great Destroyer, still resonate, and the group’s evolution is far more appealing to me than that of the Shins.

As such, I’m sure it was someone’s idea of a joke to tag the genre ID as “pop” on Drums and Guns. Sure, Low took a more accessible approach on The Great Destroyer, but “pop” might be stretching it a bit, even on a new album that incorporates vocal/electronic loops and drum machines. The more I listen to this album, the more I’m sure Low played a couple of these tracks when we saw them in Tucson last March (Sandinista and Violent Past, specifically).

Low maintains its “slowcore” roots here, but this added layer of electronic assistance pushes the group into more a abstract place. Yet these ambient and almost incidental blips/bleeps (best appreciated on headphones) hardly clutter the sound; given Low’s minimal foundation, there certainly was room to add on without interfering with what they do best. Of course, Low likely threatens to turn off traditionalists with these new arrangements (if The Great Destroyer didn’t already), but, again, none of it feels excessive; the mood is still stark and haunting.

And Alan Sparhawk’s lyrics are dark as ever. On the macabre and lovely Murderer:

“One more thing before I go /
One more thing I’ll ask you, Lord /
You may need a murderer /
Someone to do your dirty work.”

Drums and Guns is due out March 20 on Sub Pop.

• Low | Violent Past (Edit: Taken down at request of label.)

The little I know about Panther comes from the praise my wife and my boy Royce heaped upon him after seeing him open for Ratatat in September. (Ratatat … not so great.) Unfortunately, I arrived late, so I missed his set.

In fact, I know so little about Panther (aka Charlie Salas-Humara) that I’d rather just let the music speak for itself instead of trying to feign knowledge or cut-paste PR material. I will say that Panther is the type of artist I seem to be drawn to more and more of late: solo, creative, unorthodox (much like the Gray Kid).

Anyway, Panther is releasing the full LP Secret Lawns on Fryk Beat on March 6.

• Panther | How Well Can You Swim

(Disclaimer: This group has made the blog rounds, so you may be bored/amazed by my keen ability to somehow remain constantly behind the curve. What can I say? It’s a special talent.)

That I let Horse Feathers’ Words Are Dead (available at eMusic) slip through the cracks in ’06 is either a sign of my slowly deteriorating brain cells or that I was really wrapped up in my favorites of the year. (I’ll pick the latter; please, indulge me here.)

I even saw the Portland, Ore., duo in Los Angeles (along with the Drunkard, Ben and Robot Mark, who did a fine job of putting on the show). Justin Ringle and Peter Broderick use an assortment of stringed instruments (and a saw; yes, a saw) to great effect – creating a haunting quietness you’re almost sure to disturb if you so much as breathe wrong. Try whispering to someone during the set and watch dirty looks descend upon you.

That makes for both an unsettling and enthralling atmosphere. I’ve only ever felt that when I’ve seen Richard Buckner (many times) and, more recently, Jose Gonzalez. Though I’m not as taken with Ringle’s voice pitch as I am with Buckner’s husky tones, Ringle carries plenty of feeling through more nervous tendencies: jumpy inflections and quick crescendos. He probably works harder to coax more out of his voice than a lot of the monotone indie-folksters.

Add to that the mood-setting string arrangements – witness the tempo/emotional burst of change on Falling Through the Roof – and Words Are Dead has a more commanding presence than you’d initially expect.

• Horse Feathers | Falling Through the Roof

HOWEVER, words are not entirely dead. I have been intrigued by the American Dialect Society’s choice of “plutoed” as its 2006 word of the year. From Associated Press:

To “pluto” is “to demote or devalue someone or something,” much like what happened to the former planet last year when the General Assembly of the International Astronomical Union decided Pluto didn’t meet its definition of a planet.

As 2007 begins – happy new year, by the way – I’m frantically digging into the depths of my e-mail inbox (deleting all along the way) to see what I missed in 2006. One name I swore I’d come back to was Barton Carroll, if only for his connection as a former member of Crooked Fingers, the band of Eric Bachmann, whose fabulous solo LP, To the Races, I stupidly forgot among my list of favorites for 2006. (Yeah, pretty sure that qualifies as a run-on sentence.)As the title of Carroll’s record might suggest, Love & War (available on eMusic) considers the human element and emotions of war. Admittedly, you won’t see me staging anti-war protests or being terribly vocal about it, but we’re seeing a byproduct (unfortunately so) of these world events. Off the top of my head, I can think of Josh Ritter’s The Animal Years, Michel Franti’s Yell Fire, The Coup’s Pick a Bigger Weapon and Neil Young’s Living With War as thoughtful and meaningful ways of protest, and music’s ability to teach another audience to take a stance.

Where Carroll’s album fits, I’m not quite sure. But listen to Small Thing, a story about a young woman living in Berlin during Soviet occupation in 1945; it’s based on a book co-written by his mother. It’s hard not to feel engaged by a line like this:

“War sleeps deep in a man /
long after guns are gone /
he loses care for small things /
and I, I was a small thing.”

• Barton Carroll | Small Thing
• Barton Carroll | Her Bright Smile Haunts Me Still

So, yeah, there’s the title to that song, the new single from Rob Crow’s solo album Living Well, due out Jan. 23 on Temporary Residence. It’s either a healthy dose of sarcasm or some serious self-reflection by Crow, frontman of Pinback and member of other assorted side projects (including the unfortunately named Goblin Cock).

Living Well is Crow’s ode to his family and the birth of his first child, his musical equivalent of a little couch time. Even if the lead single is ironically self-referential, I Hate You, Rob Crow is brilliant in its efficiency. At two minutes and nine seconds, I Hate You concentrates Crow’s knack for a sing-songy vocal hook and instant impact. And this is the “single version.” The album version apparently is 1:13.

Rob Crow | I Hate You, Rob Crow (single version) (mp4)