Thievery Corporation

“The Cosmic Game” (ESL Music)

Compare to: Zero 7, Air, Faze Action

Thievery Corporation has the ability of taking its listeners any place imaginable — nightfall on the beach where smooth reggae beats swirl their way out of a crackling bonfire or a smoky jazz club where a man at the bar steals the seductive glance of a mysterious woman in the haze.

After four studio albums, Rob Garza and Eric Hilton, the masterminds behind the Washington production duo, don’t have to worry about pleasing listeners by solidifying their sound — they just have to worry about perfecting it.

“The Cosmic Game” recalls the sounds the duo is best known for — electronic pulses, Jamaican-flavored beats, Latin horns and percussion, the spiritual sitars and tablas of India — but this time it adds a new kind of flare.

Thievery Corporation takes it up a notch by layering its sultry electro-ethnic sounds with guest vocals coming from some rather famous names: Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips kicks off the album with the down-tempo and nerve-tingling “Marching the Hate Machines (Into the Sun).”

Jane’s Addiction frontman Perry Farrell impressively channels reggae on “Revolution Solution,” and David Byrne bestows his quirky attitude on the horn-filled “The Heart’s a Lonely Hunter.”

Each track on “The Cosmic Game” melts effortlessly into the next, creating a sensual and earthy playlist that will undoubtedly drift the listener far, far away.

— Katie Piepel

The Mars Volta

“Frances the Mute” (Universal)

Compare to: At the Drive-In, And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead, Hot Water Music

The new Mars Volta album delves into the deepest, darkest crevices of rock with unparalleled boldness and abandon, creating a masterpiece that is difficult to compare to any other artist.

Yes, the music of the Mars Volta is “emo,” as in emotional, but to label “Frances the Mute” as such is to deny its genre-bashing scope and vision. It also dips and dabs in funk, hard rock and free jazz, creating a mind-melting, ever-changing tapestry of noise.

Cedric Bixler’s vocals are haunting and passionate, and Omar Rodriguez’s guitar is still heavy and fast, but both former At the Drive-In members have expanded their musical palettes for the better. Bixler does less outright screaming and Rodriguez plays with considerably more finesse.

“Frances the Mute” is way tripped out. It hits hard all the way through, but drops into a Samba beat on “L’Via L’Viaquez” and adds some horns and strings on the last two epic songs — “Cassandra Gemini” with all its parts clocks in at more than a half hour. The album is psychedelic in a noisy, scary, Jimi Hendrix sort of way. In fact, it’s almost too deep and crazy to listen to at times, which may alienate the casual listener. The sheer amount of different sounds and moods on the album, however, will keep most entertained and rewarded throughout.

— Aaron Butzen

Kings of Leon

“Aha Shake Heartbreak” (RCA)

Compare to: The Black Crows, The Jayhawks, Pete Yorn

Kings of Leon front man Caleb Followill drops the F-bomb and talks about his sexual exploits with women quite a bit, considering he’s a preacher’s son. The man has obviously chosen to pursue his own desires and is ignore his upbringing.

Musically, however, the band has finally found its own sound. The drum and bass grooves are down and dirty, as drummer Nathan Followill and bassist Jared Followill are always right on with each other.

This type of music is groove-oriented, and these guys sound like 20-year veterans instead of young musicians struggling aimlessly through another album.

Lyrically, Kings of Leon needs some work. The actual meaning behind the songs is arguable, but tracks such as “Milk,” “The Bucket” and “Soft” could be taken as hinting at the sexual exploitation of women and glorification of drug and alcohol abuse.

Kings of Leon have made a musically spectacular but lyrically crass album at the risk of offending some people. The degradation of women and drug references may appeal to some, but people who appreciate lyrics with substance and don’t want to support four stoned and drunken idiots who have sex and do lines like it’s their job should say “no thanks.”

— Dan Hopper

Comeback Kid

“Walk the Dead” (Victory)

Compare to: Stretch Armstrong, Stand and Fight, Youth of Today

The recent breakup of Amendment 18 and Snapcase left Canadian hardcore band Comeback Kid in an unexpected position. It suddenly found itself the only band left on the Victory roster that plays straight-up hardcore.

For fans who have seen the once-great hardcore label slip into an emo-core empire, “Wake the Dead” represents Victory’s last stand.

In fact, the Victory label printed on the case is bittersweet, because although it means that longtime fans will have to suffer the indignity of seeing the band peddled as a “Hot Artist” on display at Wal-Mart, the wide release will reach enough unsuspecting ears to remind people of what hardcore is meant to sound like — before metal riffs and broken hearts.

The entire album embodies the long-standing hardcore mantra of short, fast and loud. With only one song clocking in at more than three minutes and most falling short of two and a half, the 25-minute album is a perfect illustration of what a hardcore album could and should be.

The only thing keeping Comeback Kid on the doorstep of greatness is the band’s lack of originality. It would have been nice to see something new. The result seems too formulaic, the sing-alongs are where they’re expected to be, and the breakdowns can be seen from miles away. But, even though Comeback Kid has chosen to stick to its guns, at least it still rocks.

— Dante Sacomani