French soundscape maestros offer more beautiful compositions

One can't help but think that this French duo was born too late—imagine them soundtracking John Hughes in his prime. They certainly made the uneven The Virgin Suicides more evocative than it had any right to be, and crafted several sad headphones masterpieces afterwards. The fragile titles of their sixth album are quintessentially Air, from "So Light Is Her Footfall" to "Missing the Light of the Day."

Long-overdue return is worth the wait

The title track of Baaba Maal's first album of new recordings in eight years is a thoughtful cautionary take on the effects of mass communications in West Africa. The music on the disc that "Television" lends its name to, however, is far less ambivalent regarding modern technology. And its pervasive electronic touches, courtesy of Brazilian Girls keyboardist Didi Gutman, have already drawn a few disappointed headshakes from folkie technophobes in the British press who prefer Maal's 2001 disc, Missing You.

Truth is, in a pinch, I prefer Missing You myself—recorded at nighttime in a Senegalese village, with many of its residence audibly in attendance, that disc showcased Maal's tenor with an ease that largely evaded his attempted compromises with the "world music" market throughout the '90s. (Though even those efforts, in which Maal set out to electronicize himself ˆ la Youssou N'Dour, had more than their share of moments.)

But Television is a far cry from those former compromises. Maal produced this himself, alongside Barry Reynolds, longtime guitarist for Chris Blackwell's Compass Point Studio Band. And there are plenty of delightful details—not just Gutman's keyboards, but accompanying vocals from Brazilian Girls singer Sabina Sciubba and sweetly melodic whistling on "Cantaloupe." Recording music does not come naturally to Baaba Maal, but on Television, he sounds more at home in the studio than ever before, and that's something to celebrate.

Aging pop stars give it another inspired go

Although 2007 comeback album Unbreakable didn't take, the Boys (men, too!) are back in town with the help of Lady GaGa production maestro RedOne. Thematically, the record showcases their ruminations on "fame at an early age" and the ebbs and flows that followed, which is at least more introspective than the last New Kids on the Block jam. "Straight Through My Heart" is vintage Backstreet, infectious and family-friendly.

Kent indie rockers keep it in the family

Don't confuse these Kent, OH rabble-rousers for a brutal hardcore band based on that moniker. They're actually tight with Akron icon Pat Carney of the Black Keys, who helped them record their freshman and sophomore efforts. The tempered indie-rock this quartet generates on Thunder$troke is awash with clever melodies and phraseology. Makes sense, considering they've put in time as Daniel Johnston's backing band.

Idaho indie greats riff out

Each of the Idaho indie champions' last three full-lengths charted higher than their predecessors, a good omen on the eve of There Is No Enemy's release. Founding member Doug Martsch is almost as enthusiastic about the new material as he is hoops, which explains why he dropped the album title in an interview about his favorite sport. Expect a tinge of reggae, but mostly "Built to Spill guitar songs."

Are your arms wide open for Creed's big comeback?

Acrimonious breakups certainly make for more intriguing returns—the risk and redemption factors are always big curiosities, and that can only help a band (perceived to be) as nondescript as Creed. Scott Stapp's post-split rampage is the stuff of legend—the hotel fistfight with 311 and drunken meltdown on Celebrity Poker Showdown being major highlights—and one can only assume it's provided him plenty of subject matter for the Floridians' fourth full-length. The other three dudes went on to form the moderately successful Alter Bridge in the interim, and although that band's Myles Kennedy has a less turgid voice than Stapp, he simply hasn't connected to the millions that will be amped for this reunion. The up-tempo "Overcome" is a big step in the right direction, letting guitarist Mark Tremonti wail and featuring a hungry Stapp more than keeping pace. Don't be surprised if these guys make the most of their second chance.

New Zealand comedy duo bring the laughs

New Zealand's hottest comic export (yes, the world is coming to an end) continues to delight hipsters everywhere with their cheeky/clueless folk-rap hybrids. The second season of the eponymous HBO show was a runaway hit, and Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement justifiably packed large theaters last spring. The title of the new 7-inch, "Pencils in the Wind/Albi the Racist Dragon" should put it in perspective for you newbs.

Reconfigured Odyssey better than ever

Following the departure of Reed Mathis, fellow founder and keyboardist Brian Haas—along with drummer Josh Raymer, lap steel/guitar maestro Chris Combs and bassist Matt Hayes—reconstitutes the Odyssey, a combo that gels instantly on the opening Rahsaan Roland Kirk medley "A Laugh for Rory/Black & Crazy Blues", dedicated to the late Joel Dorn.

Saxman remains versatile

With his latest quartet, rooted in the deceptively gentle (but dark-edged) chording of Paul Bollenback's guitar, alto saxophonist Snidero proves himself equally capable of tackling the subtle balladry of "Tranquility" and the hot bop of "Vortex" with full-toned blowing.

Bassist deals with Ayler tradition as only he knows how

Morris may have established his rep as a guitarist, but he's since come into his own as a bassist. He locks in tight with drummer Luther Gray here to form a rhythm section that ably showcases tenor saxophonist Petr Cancura, who nudges the anarchic Ayler tradition a few spaces forward.

Controversial authenticité acts explored on double-disc

Two more discs from Stern's diligent exploration of the Syliphone catalog, this time focusing on Keletigui et Ses Tambourinis, another of Guinea's state-sponsored "authenticité" acts, whose Cuban jazz-tinged tunes addressed incest and suicide, and who, thanks to a typo, hit big with "Kiss My Noose."

Mexican duo get a little flamenco, a little metal

On their 2006 self-titled disc, this Mexican guitar duo set out to show how little distance there really is between thrash and flamenco, all without amping up. This follow-up is a hat-tip to their influences, and includes appearances from world fusion masters Strunz & Farah and Testament guitarist Alex Skolnick.

Beautiful archive of early recordings

Michael Feinstein, Carol Channing and I might not agree on much (if anything), but Sophie Tucker is common ground for us all. The two glitzy bizzers contribute essays to this indispensable collection of Tucker's earliest recordings, long unavailable to non-archivists. And if the 72 full-color pages—many including Tucker's own scrapbook illustrations, plus biographical exploration of Tucker's repeated self-reinventions from documentarians Susan and Lloyd Ecker—seem like overkill to the uninitiated, well, Tucker requires more of an introduction than some.

Like so many of the 20th century's earliest pop stars, Tucker has been ill-served by history. Partly that's been due to the lack of recorded evidence, a setback this collection corrects by culling Tucker's first recordings from Edison wax cylinders and impossibly rare discs. Tucker was the embodiment of the brassy vaudevillienne, bawdy and zaftig, trafficking in the double entendres of "My Husband's in the City" and "Knock Wood."

With its pops and crackles, and sometimes unwelcome hints of vaudeville's roots in minstrelsy, Origins of the Red Hot Mama is history as much as it is entertainment. But that's not to deny its entertainment value, or the context it supplies for more familiar music. For anyone who thinks Ludacris invented the pop double entendre, or that infidelity is no laughing matter, this lovingly assembled box is a much needed corrective.

Flamboyant Olympians live it up in major label land

Frontwoman Beth Ditto recently called out "I Kissed a Girl" popstress Katy Perry for "riding on the backs of [gay] culture without having to pay any of the dues," sparking Perry to note of Ditto's signature earthquake vocals, "I'm not impressed." Well, we are. The Olympia, WA trio has evolved steadily over their decade of existence, from bluesy garage punk to politically-charged dance action, keeping the torch blazing in Kathleen Hanna's absence.

Indie-centric soundtrack for vampire sequel

The last Twilight soundtrack was somewhat of a throwback, allowing emo-pop upstarts Paramore to craft a hit single quite literally inspired by the motion picture ("Decode"). Rumors have been rampant for the sequel, even suggesting Radiohead's Thom Yorke as a contributor at one point, unlikely as that sounds. For what it's worth, Death Cab for Cutie gets Paramore's plum first-single spot this time around.

Dar es-Salaam nightclub scene documented

The label that made its name documenting '60s and '70s Addis Ababa with the acclaimed Ethiopiques series has since headed down south to compile Taarab music of the Dar es-Salaam nightclub scene with this series, the most recent volume of which reaches into the late '70s and early '80s.

Weezer let the good times roll on lucky number seven

At least they didn't call it, like, The Off-White Album—or, god forbid, Weezer again. No, Rivers Cuomo and co. have managed to annoy Pinkerton junkies yet again with this "immature" title. Well, word to the wise: Matt Sharp isn't walking through that door any time soon. Cuomo is a big fan of gleefully asinine, lovelorn power-pop; that's what he's had to offer since The Green Album, and that's what he's offering now. Hence, "(If You're Wondering if I Want You To) I Want You To," a jangly three and a half minutes of sugar rot that will wind up in commercials and movie trailers everywhere. If you're wondering if Cuomo will ever write about being a 40-year-old again—as opposed to, say, a high school sophomore—there are plenty of artists who do "existential" much better. Sure, Weezer were great at detached and morose a decade ago, but they're just as good as getting a room bouncing. Credit where it's due!

Legend tackles American songbook

Hate to break it to Cassandra Wilson fans, but the finest living interpreter of the Great American Songbook is this aging Texan hippie. This ain't no Stardust (far more commonplace arrangements), but Willie's reedy twang encourages him to ambush well-known tunes with canny strategy, rather than attempting to overpower them, as more muscular vocalists might.