The Warren G. Hardings, Get a Life (out now, self-released, thewarrenghardings.com) Even

The Warren G. Hardings, Get a Life (out now, self-released, thewarrenghardings.com) Even the most casual music listener carries with them certain prejudices and preconceptions when they first thrown on a record. If you hear the blues, you expect twelve repetitious bars of music; if it’s country, maybe your ear bends for a little lap steel guitar; with hip-hop you want that in-your-face, thumping bass.

The great thing about music and art in general, is that it is often best when it throws off staid notions of what it is supposed to be, which is exactly what the Warren G. Hardings have done here.

The best way to describe the band’s latest record is indie-pop bluegrass. The musicianship, especially from banjo player Steve Werner and fiddler Lee Callender, is classic, down-home, Kentucky-style bluegrass played at mind-numbing speed with dead-on accuracy. The tunes themselves, however, fit more in the mold of the Death Cab for Cutie or Shins songbook, the best examples being “The Devil’s in the Roots” and “Post-Suburban Recession-Era Blues.”

The idea to fit classic Americana musicianship within a modern pop form is fraught with peril, and in lesser hands, could have been a disastrous mash up. The Warren G. Hardings have found a way to walk the line between both worlds in a manner that provides for a unique and altogether enriching listening experience. (May 14, Capitol Cider) CORBIN REIFF

The Warren G. Hardings, Get A Life (out now, self-released thewarrenghardings.com) Even the most casual of music listeners carry with them certain prejudices and preconceptions when they first thrown on a record. The great thing about music however, and art in general, is that it is often best when it casts aside staid notions of what it is supposed to be; which is exactly what the Warren G. Hardings have done on Get A Life.

The best way I can think to describe the band’s latest record is indie-pop bluegrass. The musicianship, especially from banjo player Steve Werner and fiddler Lee Callender is classic, down-home, Kentucky-style bluegrass played at mind-numbing speed and with deadly accuracy, but the tunes themselves fit more in the mold of a Death Cab for Cutie or Shins song.

The best example of this marriage comes with the songs “The Devil’s in the Roots” and “Post-Suburban Recession-Era Blues.” On the latter track, lead singer Dave Zelonka seems to intent on bucking traditional bluegrass themes with the song’s constantly repeating refrain, “Don’t need a girl, don’t need a dog, just wanna watch hockey and have a day job.” Get A Life isn’t completely against traditional Americana however with a couple of genuinely great songs such as the funeral dirge-like “Anonymous Waltz,” and the cheerful folksy cut “What Can I Say” thrown in the mix.

The idea to bring classic Americana musicianship and fit it within a modern pop form is fraught with peril, and in lesser hands, could have been a disastrous mash up. The Warren G. Hardings have found a way to walk the line between both worlds in a manner that provides for a unique and altogether enriching listening experience.

(Wed., May 14, Capitol Cider)

Wyrd Visions, Half-Eaten Guitar (out now, P.W. Elverum & Sun, pwelverumandsun.com) Not for casual listeners. The band disappeared almost as quickly as it arrived in 2006 with its only record to date, Half-Eaten Guitar. Phillip Elverum (The Microphones, Mount Eerie) has reissued the record through his label P.W. Elverum & Sons to make the folk-freak-out available to a wider audience, but it’s still going to take a lot of effort for it to soak in for the masses. Toronto songwriter Colin Bergh makes it clear right away with opener “Sigil,” a 10 minute expansive piece that repeats the same eerie melody repeatedly and monotonous acoustic guitar riff. There’s a sense of levity when it transitions to the next track, “Ceremony,” which expands the lofty melodies but without the endurance test. If it weren’t for the sweltering electric guitar on closer “Air-Conditioning,” the album might sound like a lost relic from a forgotten, mystical era – and in many ways it still is. It’s an album to be immersed in completely, soaking in all of the obscure textures. A cursory listen will mess the beauty that hides beneath the weirdness. DUSTY HENRY