While sampling on iTunes (or Napster, don't remember) I inadvertantly selected Terramara. Lucky me. I liked what I heard and am now hooked. Steely Dan meets Traffic. Excellent

Five years after they unleashed their tremendous eponymous debut CD on the citizens of Minneapolis, and netizens around the country, local rock quartet Terramara have crafted a must-hear second act in which they will proceed to rock the world. Time, it seems, has had the same effect on Terramara as it would a fine wine: the elements remain intact, yet there's a heightened definition, a sweeter taste. Granted, their first disc was damn sweet to begin with; an improvement on that simply must be experienced to be fully comprehended. That said, one's senses are left in a state of sizzling satisfaction after hearing this disc from top to bottom. The album begins with keyboardist/lead vocalist Rob Meany meandering upon his Wurlitzer, just before the groove kicks in, and we're off and "Running Down The Avenue". It's clear from the very beginning that nobody in this band is hiding behind production noise or effects pedals--any such tools are used in a bold, educated way. It's pure and unfiltered, the beautiful kind of record where every note is intentional and unashamed, harkening to the pristine Aja/Gaucho era of Steely Dan. With a record like this, it's very clear who's in the driver's seat...and it ain't the listener. We are simply along for the ride. The songs that unfold through this ride take us through the bitter annals of love--in the form of a narcissistic ex-girlfriend ("Crying Shame"), unresolved questions and truths ("Goodbye"), accountability ("Smoke & Mirrors", featuring a shattering solo by guitarist Karl Koopmann), attempts at recapturing the essence of love ("Black & Grey"), and even the digital realm ("Virtual Lisa")--while occasionally waxing philosophical on domestic issues ("Invisible People"), and guidance and wisdom ("Outrunning Headlights"). All the while, these tales are bathed in a kind of aural pheromone, awash in beautifully-orchestrated horns, background vocals, vintage keyboards and dexterous virtuosity on all stringed instruments involved (during a recent live performance, bassist Tom Larson could be seen nimbly adjusting his bass cabinet's tone with one hand, while maintaining the deep, driving pocket essential for "Rise & Fall" with the other). These fourteen songs (thirteen, if you pair the penultimate title track with its denouement counterpart) possess the ability to stimulate the synapses in fresh, surprising ways without being too cerebral. In this fashion, Terramara have joined the ranks of a few top-caliber bands and artists who take their musicality to a point beyond perfection--ending up with a record chock full of intense detail, meticulously-applied theory, hours of thoughtful production...all the qualities that, when heard, will draw grins from the most discriminating of musicians. And yet, it's an accessible record for the masses, too. It's the best of both worlds. Arriving at a balance like that sounds much, much easier than it is. But it's very clear with "Four Blocks To Hennepin" that Terramara have landed there with style to spare--and without breaking a sweat.

I absolutely loved their first CD, so with my expectations high I was very prepared to be disappointed with this sophmore effort. To my delight, this album is absolutely great, and it gets better with the familiarity that repeated playing brings. Outstanding production, memorable melodic hooks, wonderful singing and playing. Here they remind you of Bruce Hornsby; there they remind you of The Police; and over there they pay hommage to Steely Dan. The comparisons are deserved, but as others point out, this is not a band immitating anyone. Give the song samples a listen; you will like what you hear.

Guys, thanks for a very enjoyable CD. Some people might think that intelligent, jazz-influenced music would be sterile and boring, and in the wrong hands it can be, but that's definitely not the case here. Sure the sophistication is there, but it wouldn't mean much if it didn't engender an emotional response, and that it certainly does. This is one of those rare albums that have a consistent "feel" throughout, that take you somewhere else for a while, somewhere big and open, somewhere late-night live, somewhere somehow slightly better than where you are now. Keep 'em coming!