Lawrence Lenhart

Lawrence Lenhart received his MFA in Creative Writing at the University of Arizona, where he was the editor-in-chief of Sonora Review. He is the recipient of two Foundation Awards, two Taube Awards, and the Laverne Harrell Clark Award in Fiction.
Can you spare 18 minutes? It will take longer to read this review than it will to listen to this savage-sweet punk/shoe/noise LP.
While TOPS’ neo-disco overtones manage to rescue Jane Penny’s threadlike upper-octave hush, frequent stretches of undertone strand.
Bay Area prolifirocker Ty Segall continues to amend the idiom—quantity is quality—with scorching double-album, Manipulator.
It's been almost two months since Death Grips broke up, and it's about time that they had a proper funeral.
Hollywood, Florida’s Beach Day goes to the Lakes, taps Detroit’s Motown/“rock city” past for its sophomore LP.
As an acknowledgement of the 100-album anniversary of Impression of Sound, the following analyses are meant to increase our collective understanding of the albums we’ve reviewed, interrogate our reviewers’ manifold palates, increase our critical transparency, and quantify our site’s footprint to date.As a young site, we recognize our prints may manifest as baby steps, but as we approach album #200, our continued coverage and analysis demonstrates burgeoning confidence.
It Looks Sad. eschews apathetic vox, pairs familiar beach riffs against the adrenalized voice of Jimmy Turner.
Art rockers Viet Cong—severally from Women, Sharp Ends, Lab Coast, Reuben and the Dark—make a tour-only EP cassette. Scratch tour-only. Scratch cassette.
A spotty debut from the Wisconsin sextet whose languorous summer tracks will return to you in dreams.
On this year’s blindsider debut album from Ought, frenetic frontman Tim Beeler might just be David Byrne’s social anarchist alter ego.
Lyyke Li alternately entombs and resuscitates a bygone relationship, ending her trilogy of albums with a cavernous breakup song cycle.
Spanning tragedies both personal and global, Kozelek is a funerary troubadour with serious range.
Stephen Malkmus turns the corner on his post-Pavement career with pivotal #6 as a Jick.