Dolly Parton, Here You Come Again. Until now, Dolly Parton has been notable primarily for her skill as a songwriter and her country-style vocals. On this album, however, she not only sings as well as she writes; she also makes a respectable—and, as it turns out, commercially successful—bid for a pop audience.

Though Parton’s penchant for sentimental homespun vignettes still occasionally results in an excess of corn, the album’s crossover appeal is no surprise. Most of the lyrics are charming, and the lilting title cut, a recent hit single, is only one of several attractively hooked, upbeat entries. If you like that song but know Parton mainly just by reputation, this LP offers a welcome way to get better acquainted.

The album is available here.

*****

The Godz, The Godz. Crossing the thin line from simple to simplistic much too often on this debut, the Cleveland-based Godz frequently make Grand Funk seem downright profound by comparison.

The first side of the LP, which features grating vocals and unvarying percussive assaults, hits bottom in the anachronistic “Gotta Keep a Runnin’,” where the Godz employ a long, inane monologue to boast of rock’s omnipotence.

Though vocals and silly sermons take a back seat to guitar work on side two, the riffs there display all the imagination and finesse of Iron Butterfly’s “In-a-Gadda-da-Vida.”

If Kiss is any measure of contemporary audiences’ desires, the Godz’s live-sounding production, powerhouse beat, and tight instrumentation might well spell as shot at the hitdom. But if this is the music our parents warned us against, this writer suspects they were right to sound the alarm.

The album is available here.

*****

Shiva’s Headband, Psychedelic Yesterday. Its loose, expansive arrangements and unpolished production aside, this rock set proves not to be the throwback that its moniker suggests.

At times, the violin work of group prime mover Spencer Perskin does flirt with self-indulgence. And much of the material isn’t nearly as memorable as it is enjoyable.

But Perskin possesses a warm, amiable vocal style, and his unpretentious, compatible cohorts make the sort of funky good-time blues rock you’d associate with Doug Sahm and Augie Meyers.

The album is available here.

*****

The Sunset Bombers, The Sunset Bombers. You can probably blame the punk craze for the existence of this album, which rarely does more than weakly imitate the genre’s most superficial traits. For starters, the LP sounds as if it was recorded in somebody’s garage, and its angry-voiced lead singer and basic guitar riffs won’t win any awards for interpretive intelligence.

Unfortunately, the material is generally no better than its execution. Original titles such as “Suicide Kamikaze Girls” and “Drag Queen” will make you suspect that somebody wanted to parody punk but forgot to insert the humor. As for the group’s clamorous covers of the Shirelles’ “Baby, It’s You,” the Troggs’ “I Can’t Control Myself,” and the Spencer Davis Group’s Gimme Some Lovin’,” the group strips each of these rock standouts of its individuality and add no new ideas. In short, the Bombers bomb.

The album is available here.