New and noteworthy

Oh Brother

Dawes

The songs wherein the Goldsmith brothers subject characters straight out of Steely Dan (think Deacon Blues 40-plus years down the road) to music refracting the Los Angeles vibes that they absorbed growing up are what will keep you returning. And that’s true whether or not those songs culminate in shrewd refrains like “The losers only think about the winners, / the winners only think about the game.” The songs wherein the Goldsmiths make like Parrot Heads or Eagle Heads you can do without.

Memory Bank

Drew & Ellie Holcomb

Someday, the “Holcomb” name and insightfully playful alt-country will no longer be synonymous. But that point, especially with husband and wife currently combining powers, is nowhere in sight. Two songs about dancing-­as-metaphor might seem like one (or two) too many, but the one that’s a cover (“Shut Up and Dance”) just sets the stage for the one that isn’t (“We Can Go Dancing”), namely, that fun and “fighting the good fight” can and probably should go together. “Maybe You Will” is balm for when the fun gives out.

Strange Things Happening

Kid Ramos

Inspired by a challenge from a pastor friend of his, the blues guitarist Kid Ramos digs deep into gospel both black (Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Mahalia Jackson, O’Neal Twins) and white (Louvin Brothers, Carter Family), enlists the lead singing of his sweet-voiced son Johnny and his Proven Ones partner Brian Templeton, and, voilà, a gospel-blues overview with room for Jude Del Hierro’s “More Love, More Power” and Bob Dylan’s “Every Grain of Sand.” Maybe because Templeton wrote “An Answer for Isaac” (and first recorded it 19 years ago), he sings that one best. And maybe next time sweet-voiced Johnny can sing more than two.

Back to California

20/20

Once power-poppy (and young) enough for American Bandstand (1980 to be specific) but not the charts (unless “Yellow Pills” hitting 72 in Cash Box counts), this band is now down to the Tulsans Ron Flynt and Steve Allen (with Ron’s son Ray replacing Bill Belknap on drums). The good news: They’re not striving for youthful glories. The better news: The glories they are striving for matter more. (Anyone who has learned that it’s too late to say “I love you” to an old friend will feel “Farewell” deep down.) Best of all: Flynt, Allen, and Flynt are doing what they do with melodies and sounds that honor their just-imprecise-enough memory of the Byrds.

Encore

Truth be told, compilations of obscure black-gospel 45s have become commonplace, with the material, whether because of the production, the per­formances, or both, often coalescing toward mid. So when a collection such as the new 12-cut Great Lakes Gospel Vol. 1: Cleveland comes along, it’s worth noticing. (The folks running Numero Group, the label on which it appears, apparently think so too. Besides making it available digitally and on YouTube, they’ve released it in three colors of vinyl.)

Some of it skews generic. Three that don’t: The Sounds of Soul’s “Gospel Train” (1977), which starts out like “People Get Ready” then switches tracks; the Sensational Saints’ deep cut “How Great Thou Art” (1973), which matches the familiar hymn lyrics to the music of Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine” and somehow ends up sounding like “The House of the Rising Sun”; and Brother Bill’s “Wha’s Happnin” (1972), which street-talks its way over Blaxploitation funk to a Cross and the Switchblade–­worthy altar call. —A.O.