The landscape of Las Vegas is a fairly accurate visual depiction of all things trending. Its trademark neon glow has been remade a handful of times to reflect the changing currents of America’s idea of style, with a little bit of sin on the side. The old marquees go down in a cloud of dust, and new, more modern representations are erected in their place. The changes don’t really change anything about Vegas, other than perhaps a splash of new makeup applied to the face of what many consider to be the pulse of fun coursing through our national veins.

Imagine Dragons, who call Vegas home, know this better than anyone. If the bright lights and big bets of Sin City were to be encapsulated in musical form, it would sound like this band—bold and unapologetic on the inside, with a tinge of the old sparkle hanging around on the fringes. They’re relatively new—vintage 2008—but Imagine Dragons carry themselves on stage with the distinct traits of a band that long ago mastered the art of Vegas: entertainment.

Case in point: “Selene,” from their highly anticipated sophomore release, rollicks with the strut of a newly arrived dreamer, intoxicated by his surroundings as he makes his way down the famed Strip for the first time. Yet there’s enough of a vintage polish to the track that ensures familiarity.

Imagine Dragon gets it: Just like there’s enough room for the flashy, brand-new-feel of the Wynn and the vintage glitter of Freemont Street, there’s plenty of space for the band’s inspired glam-meets-grunge update.

And that’s something worth betting on.

View the full BMI at SXSW schedule.

In that order. There’s a time-tested way to do these things. Or, perhaps it’s more accurate to note that there’s a time-tested way totypically do these things.

Sarah Buxton is anything but typical.

In 2005, when Lyric Street Records signed her, Buxton had no reason to suspect that the handling of her career would go any differently. What she got, however, was anything but expected: a five-year lesson in patience. Now, after the success of her breakthrough single “Outside My Window” from her eponymous 2010 debut, Buxton is looking out at a world that will finally get to hear what she expected it would hear from her half a decade ago.

“The waiting was difficult, but I decided to embrace it rather than feel bad. I wrote my songs, and I hit the road,” she says. “The toughest part about everything came after shows, when people would ask me where my album was, and I wouldn’t have an answer for them.”

In the interim, Buxton got her first taste of success in 2007, when Keith Urban took her song “Stupid Boy” to #3 on the country charts. Perhaps more valued than the recognition she gained as a writer was the advice she received from Urban regarding her aspirations as an artist.

“Once, I asked Keith how he managed to survive the long wait before he finally found success,” Buxton remembers. “He put his arm around me and said, ‘If you’re doing this for the music, and not for anything else, it will all fall into place.’ You know what? He was right. I started to let people see me for who I was, and the rest took care of itself.”

The half Welsh, half Greek songbird burst onto the scene in 2009 with the release of Marina and the Diamonds’ first single, “Mowgli’s Road,” a quirky Regina Spektor-meets-Kate Bush mash-up of pure hookiness. Instantly a favorite among DJs and club-goers, Marina used her newfound momentum to steamroll into 2010’s Family Jewels (679/Atlantic). The lead single, “Hollywood,” stands not only as a tongue-in-cheek wink to the glamorized notion of the American dream, but as a fantastic glimpse into what makes Marina so irresistible as a performer: her persona vocalis.

It is this talent—her ability to bend her voice into several seemingly different, yet equally powerful vocal personalities—that sets her, and her music, head and stiletto heels above a sea of would-be contenders for the new princess of pop crown. She doesn’t hide behind fashion or commercialization, but rather, smartly embraces both, confidently navigating the whiplash-inducing pace of contemporary culture.

Her astute lyrical juxtaposition of the value society has ascribed to materialism versus intellect reveals a sharp young singer/songwriter who’s in on the joke, while her honeyed vocal chops ensure that the potentially barbed message goes down smoothly. In short, she’s entertaining, fresh, and most importantly, unforgettable.

“He said, ‘Oh my god you look just like Shakira / Oh no, you’re Catherine Zeta’ / Actually, my name’s Marina,” she sings.

Just try to get it out of your head.

After all, with John Paul Jones, Dave Grohl, and Josh Homme on the bill, how much credibility is really at stake if one gives them a preemptive passing grade? Rest assured, ye faithful protectors of all that is cool, your reputations shall remain wholly intact. This surprising lineup of stalwarts (John Paul Jones!) has delivered a modern record that smartly allows gritty musicality to remain unpolished by time.

Them Crooked Vultures, whose members have separately showcased an uncanny knack for being unapologetically rowdy while simultaneously remaining sophisticatedly sharp, mesh as if they have been playing together for decades. Lovers of Zeppelin, Foo Fighters, and Queens of the Stone Age will all find something comfortably familiar within the album’s 13 tracks, and while these references are a good starting point, the band proves to be so much more than a mash-up of three distinct styles.

Ever the proud standard bearers, the trio wears the stripes and insignias of a bygone era in which big, brazen rock edginess was the calling card of the day on their sleeves. And yet, the band still brings something fresh to the table, pointing to the crux of their appeal: What’s most noteworthy about Them Crooked Vultures isn’t necessarily individual pedigrees or the nostalgia Jones, Grohl, and Homme evoke, but rather, how much fun they all seem to still be having.

In the group’s 10-years-plus history, Lifehouse has racked up more than 15 million album and single sales worldwide, six charting Billboard Hot 100 singles, three RIAA certified gold albums, and one RIAA certified double platinum album. Now, with the recent release of their fifth major release, Smoke and Mirrors, Wade is eyeing the future with the kind of clarity that only age can provide.

“When I first started writing, I used it as therapy. I had a hard time with communication when I was growing up, and music helped me deal with that. In the early days, I could lean on things like relationship problems for material, but I found myself in a bit of a drought, creatively, after about three turmoil-free years of life. That’s when I started realizing that writing doesn’t always have to be about you.”

Rather than searching for the now diminished presence of conflict in his life to use as artistic fodder, Wade began reaching out to writers like Richard Marx, Daughtry, Kevin Rudolf, and album producer Jude Cole to spur his creativity. This newfound approach to writing, as well as the realization that music could still be personal and powerful without having to be autobiographical, ultimately resulted in a group of songs that would become the core of Smoke and Mirrors.

And just as his approach to songwriting has changed with the arrival of a certain amount of peace in his life, so too has the music that is influencing it. As a teenager struggling to define himself, he found safe haven in the grunge rock scene of his formative years. Now, Wade revels in the unbridled freedom of styles less constricted by labels and generic compartmentalization.

“At sixteen or seventeen I was into Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden—the typical stuff for a kid growing up in Seattle. As I got a little older I discovered Radiohead and Coldplay. Then I started listening to a lot of Billie Holliday… a lot of Sinatra and Edith Piaf. I also find comfort in the ability to turn my brain off to music without lyrics, so lately I’ve been listening to stuff that was written for movies—noticing how the right music in a scene can be so incredibly moving and how I can apply that to my writing.”

As the coming of age of Jason Wade continues, so too does the coming of age of his music. No one would have blamed him for relying on what has worked—what has thus far helped to define a wonderfully successful career. Smoke and Mirrors could have been a Lifehouse record that sounded just like the previous one, and the band’s ravenously loyal following would have probably been satisfied. Then again, it’s possible that they’ve been growing and maturing just as he has. Perhaps Wade is on to something: Allow yourself to grow and age as your fan base does, and you’ll mean just as much to them now as you did when you first started.

“We played a show not too long ago, and I could see three women—a daughter, a mother, and a grandmother, all standing together, singing every word. Three generations of fans. That’s pretty incredible.”

Austin Collins is a bit of a juxtaposition in personality from the songs he so masterfully writes—he’s a witty guy who leans more often than not on his keen sense of humor to soak up the few down moments during his shows. He’ll make you cry with a song, he’ll make you laugh with a joke, and then he’ll make you cry again if he feels like it. Jokes are one thing—we all have a friend we can count on for a good laugh. These songs of his, though…

Not many people have a friend who can do what Austin does so impeccably well.

The Houston born, Austin, TX based Collins, whose stellar recording resume includes two critically acclaimed releases (2005’s Something Better and 2008’s Roses Are Black) has again returned with heart in hand and music in groove. His latest offering, Wrong Control, is by name mysterious and unique, but that’s par for Austin’s course. He’s a writer, after all, and as any good writer will tell you, one mustn’t tip ones hand right off the bat. And so, you can’t help but wonder exactly what it is that went wrong and exactly what it is that he’s trying to control.

First, what went Wrong:

Relationships. Attempts to break out. Chances to learn things that are as yet unknown. The drive to find out what else there is in life.

That’s not to say these failed launches don’t eventually lift off for the cast of characters that wander in and out of Austin’s songs. He leaves them (and us) with just enough glimmers of hope, with just the right amount of possibilities, to believe that they might someday break out of the gracefully sketched situations they find themselves in.

Second, the Control:

His trademark lonesome, free-ranging vocals. The sparse instrumental arrangements. The ability to get a little heavier, a little grittier when it’s called for.

With Centro-Matic’s Will Johnson at the production helm, Collins’ Rainbirds (consisting of Craig Bagby on drums and Dylan McDougall on guitars, both of whom garner writing credits on the album) manage to match their leading mans’ lyrical brushstrokes with musical accompaniment that stays out of its own way—the co-star beside the people living within this collection of songs. They pick and choose their moments with expertise, creating a vast and colorful landscape upon which the drama can unfold.

And as that drama unfolds, you begin to get this feeling:

There’s just so much Austin Collins and the Rainbirds got right with Wrong Control.

“I gravitate towards transitions,” says Cooper, “crossroads-like experiences that people go through in life, and while there is a little darkness in my songs, I like to focus more on hope than anything else.”

Those glimmers of hope, matched with his knack for pairing universally relatable lyrics with sweepingly catchy melodies, have made Cooper somewhat of a favorite among other artists as well. Hailing from a musically inclined family, he found himself replacing those familial ties with the company of likeminded and gifted friends in his newfound home.

“When I got to New York five years ago, friends of mine like Boots Otterstad (of The Getaway People, and writer for acts such as Robbie Williams, Tim McGraw and Macy Gray) and Edie Kuhnle (Dan Dyer, Thomas Dybdahl) helped to give me a crash course in writing, developing hooks and melodies. I learned a lot from them.”

After winning this year’s Kauai Music Festival songwriter contest and participating in writer showcases across the country in recent years, Cooper is confidently watching more musical opportunities lining themselves up on the horizon. In fact, it’s not unreasonable to expect that Cooper will continue to rack up the rewards of his travels—both by air and airwaves.

For the group of band mates and roommates (consisting of Ryan Downing on vocals, Jonathan Owens on guitar/vocals, Jonathan Albright on guitar, Meagan Beth Plummer on Keyboard, Michael Deming on bass, and John Chester on drums) their goal was simple: to play anywhere they could find a gig.

“We scoured the Internet for anywhere that would let us play,” Downing says. “We’ve been to all the cities… but we’ve also played in the middle of nowhere Mississippi on a slab of concrete in a field. Our attitude is that we’ll play anywhere and any time. So something we’ve done by accident is that we booked all these small towns and became the first real band a lot of the kids in those towns had ever seen. They’ve turned into our most loyal and devoted fans because we took the time to go where nobody else would go.”

An Indie Rock band in the truest sense of the word, the miles that Jonas Sees in Color has logged between the cities and towns of the American Southeast is embedded in their jaunty, toe-tapping songs—as road tested as a band van. Their eponymous debut (recorded in the Denver studio owned by chart-topping band The Fray) ranges from the power-punk infused For The Fences to the thoughtful and tender Avalanche, showcasing a versatile and delicious knack for infectious melodies and poignant lyricism.

With its steady touring, Jonas Sees in Color has already begun to win over the hearts of music lovers throughout the country, and while their core fan base has been seeing the bands colors for quite some time, it may not be long before they begin to see stars in them as well.

The rousing “Butch” kicks off the record with a brand of lyrical snark akin to Weezer backed by a Killers-like delivery, while the moody “Eat Your Heart Out” rises and falls with a sensibility usually reserved for more seasoned arena rockers. “To My Enemies” closes out the collection, leaning on equal parts punk crass and pop harmonies in a style that’s comfortably familiar yet distinct in its own right.

Checking in at just over 19 minutes, this smart collection of songs manages to maintain a level of vivacity that perhaps a longer release would not have been able to support—winding the listener up by skipping the downtime.  Noted for their high-energy shows, Saint Motel proves that it can carry that intensity with them into the studio and deliver a burning set without having to feed off of a crowd.

ForPlay delivers on it’s promise as an enticing introduction to a band that has an excellent idea of how to deliver exactly what it wants you to see and hear. And while the rates at Saint Motel may be budget friendly at the moment, there’s no reason to assume that they’ll stay there.