Barnes & Noble
West Coast troubadour Matt Ward has developed a rapt following by playing music that requires listeners to crane their necks, prick up their ears, and use their minds to tune out outside stimuli that could easily overwhelm its delicacy. Transistor Radio, more than any of his previous releases, makes it crystal clear that the effort is worthwhile. The disc is, more or less, an homage to the possibilities of totally free-form radio, which allows Ward to follow his muse and interpret both the Beach Boys -- on a lovingly layered, all-instrumental version of "You Still Believe in Me" -- and Bach, on a haunting, wispy rendition of "The Well-Tempered Clavier." The same restlessness imbues the originals that Ward offers up here, which range from the high-lonesome Appalachiana of "One Life Away" -- which gains momentum when My Morning Jacket's Jim James chimes in on harmony vocals -- to the soft-focus psychedelia of "Sweethearts on Parade." Like the device from which it borrows its name, Transistor Radio gives off its share of static, but those moments are far outnumbered by passages of crystal clarity that create the excitement of new discovery. David Sprague
All Music Guide
Listening to M. Ward's breezy ode to radio's forgotten heydays is a lot like taking in a huge breath of dust-bowl wind -- however, its charms are rooted in the hazy lemonade-sipping of summer rather than the great depression-obsession of the post-O Brother, Where Art Thou? mainstream. Ward's voice is a slap-delayed pastiche of Ron Sexsmith's easygoing croon and Andrew Bird's closed-mouth drawl, and like his front-porch fingerpicking, it's as effortless as it is effective. Transistor Radio begins with a lovely instrumental version of the Pet Sounds classic "You Still Believe in Me," then drops the needle on "One Life Away," a lo-fi shout-out to the radio towers of old that centers around the sly and condemning lines "To all the people in the ground/Listening to the sound of the living people walking up and down the graves/Well one of them is mine/I'm visiting my fräulein/She's only one breath away." Many have used the "fake old 78" approach before, but in Ward's hands it sounds truly genuine, and his falsetto harmonizing is as spooky as the song is sweet. While the rest of Radio plays out like a sequel to 2003's excellent Transfiguration of Vincent, with standout cuts like "Sweethearts On Parade," "Hi-Fi," and "Paul's Song" echoing that record's marvelous title track ("Vincent O'Brien"), there's a subtle optimism at work here that was only hinted at on previous recordings, and by the time he wraps the whole thing up with a gorgeous rendition of J.S. Bach's "The Well-Tempered Clavier," it's become apparent which fork in the road this eccentric troubadour has chosen, and it's generously dotted with pregnant storm clouds. Reverend Lee Power