Perhaps it's destined that a band who considered the Who and Neil Young idols would have no quarrel with middle age; nevertheless, the settled nature of Pearl Jam's Lightning Bolt comes as a bit of a jolt. Long ago, Pearl Jam opted out of the rat race, choosing to abandon MTV and album rock radio, ready to take any fans who came their way, and in a way, Lightning Bolt -- their tenth studio album, arriving 22 years after the first -- is a logical extension of that attitude, flirting with insouciance even at its loudest moments. Often, this record seems to ignore the very idea of immediacy; even when the tempos are rushed and the amplifiers are revved up, Pearl Jam never quite seem to be rocking with abandon, choosing to settle into comforting cacophony instead. Then again, nothing on Lightning Bolt -- not the wannabe breakneck rocker "Mind Your Manners," not the tightly coiled title track, not the glam stomp of "Let the Records Play" -- proceeds with any manner of urgency, with even the loudest rockers unveiled at a measured pace that allows plenty of space for solos by Mike McCready. The guitarist has room to roam and the band has a supple, natural interplay that only comes from almost 30 years of collaboration, but here more than ever, all the emotional notes seem to derive from Eddie Vedder, who is not only the chief songwriter/lyricist but a spiritual touchstone. Eying the milestone of 50, Vedder is very comfortable in his skin: he's no longer raging against the dying light or tilting at windmills, he's choosing his battles, knowing when to lie back so he can enjoy the rush of rock pushed out from his familiar, but never lazy, colleagues. This unhurriedness may seem to run counter to the rebellious spirit of rock & roll, but for all their insurrectionist acts, Pearl Jam weren't upstarts: they eagerly accepted the torch of arena rock when it was handed to them. On Lightning Bolt, they've grown into that classic rock mantle, accentuating the big riffs and bigger emotions, crafting songs without a worry as to whether they're hip or not and, most importantly, enjoying the deep-rooted, nervy arena rock that is uniquely their own.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Among the many things Eddie Vedder wears on his sleeve is his love of the Chicago Cubs. He was there during the Cubbies' historic World Series win of 2016, singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh inning stretch of Game 5, an honor for a fan who held the team dear since a child, but earlier in the season, he and Pearl Jam saluted the Cubs with a pair of August concerts at Wrigley Field. Let's Play Two is a concert film documenting that stand and it's accompanied by a live album, which is Pearl Jam's first mass-market live album since Live on Ten Legs. That 2011 release was a compilation of highlights but this focuses on a particular residency, and the difference is a matter of concentration. Here, it's easier to focus on how Pearl Jam seem strong and settled, enjoying their immense power but also sounding quite relaxed in their passion. It's an appealing blend and one that helps highlight the consistency of their catalog, since the newer songs feel like good fits alongside the chestnuts -- old songs that don't seem worn, since it's clear the band and audience gain sustenance from the music. That warm-heartedness -- which may be accentuated due to Vedder playing at the home of his team, surrounded by fans who love the band and the Cubs -- seems deeper than it has on previous live Pearl Jam albums, but maybe that's a reflection of the band's middle age. They're comfortable in their skin and with their catalog and are happy to indulge in an unabashed celebration, which this album most certainly is.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

As far as debut albums go, this eponymous release is a surprisingly accomplished effort from the Nottingham-born teenager Jake Bugg. Although he stares out from the album cover like a younger, long-lost cousin of the View or the Enemy, while those U.K. indie acts found their nourishment on a diet of the Jam, Oasis, and the Strokes, Bugg found time to explore pre-Beatles music from the likes of Buddy Holly and Richie Valens. These influences -- combined with a folk sensibility and moments of delicate acoustic fingerpicking that betray a love for Bob Dylan and Donovan -- make for an accessible, pop-focused record that doesn’t attempt to chase innovation. Much of the material here was co-written, produced, and mixed by Snow Patrol and Reindeer Section collaborator Iain Archer. When Bugg and Archer combine on “Taste It” and “Trouble Town” -- two of the album’s stronger, more raucous tracks -- it’s as if you’re hearing what the La’s would have sounded like if John Power had been their dominant force, as opposed to Lee Mavers. It’s the intro to “Taste It” in particular that apes “Feelin’” -- the Liverpudlians’ final single -- while “Trouble Town” comes across as a rewrite of their cautionary “Doledrum” with its skiffle-fueled tales of unemployment benefits and missed payments. The comparatively positive and sprightly opener “Lightning Bolt” didn’t do Bugg any harm when it was featured just prior to the BBC’s live coverage of Usain Bolt’s Olympic 100m victory and was heard by a U.K. audience of 20 million people. Built around a three-chord shuffle and a bridge that Noel Gallagher would be proud of, it’s another example of a Bugg/Archer gem. While it’s the analog-sounding upbeat tracks such as these that impress, it’s the mid-paced, digitally polished ballads and resultant formulaic pacing that underwhelm. It’s safe to say that those searching for experimental music should most definitely look elsewhere. “Broken” -- co-written with former Longpigs frontman Crispin Hunt -- takes Bugg into broad, “X-Factor does indie” territory, while “Country Song” tiptoes between James Blunt’s vocal quirks and John Denver’s suffocating pleasantry. Inoffensive and clean-cut as they are, both tracks signify a mid-album lull and sit awkwardly on a record that is littered with overt drug references and imagery from the street. To his credit, Bugg's too young by far to be a drug bore, and when he takes “a pill or maybe two” in “Seen It All” or is “high on a hash pipe of good intent” in “Simple as This,” it feels like social documentation rather than a misguided attempt at glamorizing their use. Elsewhere, Clifton -- the south Nottingham village that Bugg calls home -- gets what is possibly its first mention in song on the irresistible, Hollies-inspired “Two Fingers.” All in all, though Bugg’s debut may not share the wordy precociousness of Conor Oberst’s formative steps or the political astuteness of Willy Mason on Where the Humans Eat, it’s his sheer earnestness and rare gift for writing simple, hook-filled tunes that ultimately charm the listener.© James Wilkinson /TiVo

Perhaps it's destined that a band who considered the Who and Neil Young idols would have no quarrel with middle age; nevertheless, the settled nature of Pearl Jam's Lightning Bolt comes as a bit of a jolt. Long ago, Pearl Jam opted out of the rat race, choosing to abandon MTV and album rock radio, ready to take any fans who came their way, and in a way, Lightning Bolt -- their tenth studio album, arriving 22 years after the first -- is a logical extension of that attitude, flirting with insouciance even at its loudest moments. Often, this record seems to ignore the very idea of immediacy; even when the tempos are rushed and the amplifiers are revved up, Pearl Jam never quite seem to be rocking with abandon, choosing to settle into comforting cacophony instead. Then again, nothing on Lightning Bolt -- not the wannabe breakneck rocker "Mind Your Manners," not the tightly coiled title track, not the glam stomp of "Let the Records Play" -- proceeds with any manner of urgency, with even the loudest rockers unveiled at a measured pace that allows plenty of space for solos by Mike McCready. The guitarist has room to roam and the band has a supple, natural interplay that only comes from almost 30 years of collaboration, but here more than ever, all the emotional notes seem to derive from Eddie Vedder, who is not only the chief songwriter/lyricist but a spiritual touchstone. Eying the milestone of 50, Vedder is very comfortable in his skin: he's no longer raging against the dying light or tilting at windmills, he's choosing his battles, knowing when to lie back so he can enjoy the rush of rock pushed out from his familiar, but never lazy, colleagues. This unhurriedness may seem to run counter to the rebellious spirit of rock & roll, but for all their insurrectionist acts, Pearl Jam weren't upstarts: they eagerly accepted the torch of arena rock when it was handed to them. On Lightning Bolt, they've grown into that classic rock mantle, accentuating the big riffs and bigger emotions, crafting songs without a worry as to whether they're hip or not and, most importantly, enjoying the deep-rooted, nervy arena rock that is uniquely their own.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

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