Jimmy Eat World

“Futures” (Interscope)

Compare to: The Get Up Kids, Saves the Day, Juliana Theory

Thanks a lot pop culture. It wasn’t enough that you usurped Weezer and Taking Back Sunday — you just had to have Jimmy Eat World too, didn’t you?

Jimmy Eat World did everything it could, representing the only remaining mainstream emo band that didn’t sell out and begin to suck.

The band struggled against the tyranny and oppression of American pop culture, but, when it came down to it, it couldn’t escape the iron fist of Interscope Records.

OK, perhaps that was a bit melodramatic.

Although “Futures” is much more poppy than the band’s previous efforts, one can’t ignore how great the album is despite its radio-polished, quasi-sellout sound. The album doesn’t live up to “Clarity” or even “Bleed American,” but even the most fastidious Jimmy Eat World fans will fall in love with songs like “Futures,” “Just Tonight” and “Work,” a collaboration with Liz Phair.

The album’s first single, “Pain,” is the best song to be played on the radio in years — yes, even better than Chumbawamba’s “Tubthumping” — and it’s not even one of the three best songs on the album.

“Futures” is definitely Jimmy Eat World’s most eclectic album, albeit a truly rock one, with songs ranging from alt-rock to pop-rock to emo-core. On its previous albums, Jimmy Eat World attempted to eliminate fluff and filler of any kind, but on “Futures” the band doesn’t shy away from extended guitar solos.

The title track has an amazing guitar intro, and the hook is repeated throughout the song. The guitar, coupled with the band’s subtle, not-too-preachy politically charged lyrics, combine for the best track on the album.

The disc begins with six consecutive spectacular songs, but after “Pain,” the album seems like it is going to sputter. This sputtering is just an illusion, however, and on “Nothing Wrong,” the band turns the intensity back up and keeps on truckin’ all the way through on one of the best emo albums of the year, even with pop culture on its tails.

— Andrew Shafer

Mark Knopfler

“Shangri-La” (Warner Brothers)

Compare to: Chet Atkins, J.J. Cale, John Fogerty

Mark Knopfler has conquered it all. Best known as the former Dire Straits’ frontman, the weathered music veteran has accomplished more in his 30 years in the music business than most musicians accomplish in a lifetime.

The 55-year-old master of guitar has collaborated with legendary names like Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton, Van Morrison, James Taylor and Joan Armatrading. Knopfler has also produced four solo albums, including his latest, “Shangri-La.”

The sound of Knopfler’s first two solo albums didn’t stray far from Dire Straits. On his third project, however, a movement toward country and folk rock was evident. “Shangri-La” sticks to the formula of its predecessor, encompassing a warm, folk atmosphere full of lulling guitars and snug vocals.

Knopfler’s fantastic storytelling ability, which can create both humorous and gloomy stories, fills every bit of the album. Sharing tales of everything from McDonald’s founder Ray Kroc, to robbery and fishing, Knopfler’s signature sleepy vocals ease in and out of each tune, most of which are slow progressing ballads.

Many times throughout the album, instrumental accents from Knopfler and his backing band pop up here and there, adding a little flare and spice to tunes that could otherwise become lethargic. Take for example the melancholy “Our Shangri-La” and the bluesy “Whoop De Doo.” The warm, laid-back atmosphere of both is subtly perked up by Paul Franklin’s pedal steel techniques.

“Postcards from Paraguay” marks the dynamic peak of the album. Knopfler uses a colorful blend of electric and Spanish guitars to dance around an upbeat, Latin inspired groove.

Knopfler’s fourth solo effort plays softly and slowly, which may be a good or bad thing depending on your mood. If you’re looking for a vibrant boost, this isn’t going to satisfy. If a rainy day is calling your name, stray no further.

— Katie Piepel

Blood Brothers

“Crimes” (V2.)

Compare to: Black Eyes, The Mars Volta, Glassjaw

Elephants and donkeys are giving birth to oil-drenched primates, but none of that matters because the Blood Brothers’ new album is here.

After blowing their collective load on “Burn Piano Island, Burn,” Blood Brothers have rested up and are ready for their next session of colorful and poignant abstract art.

Upon initial listening, it becomes apparent the Blood Brothers have lost some of their sass. In what can be described as the day after their previous album, Jordan Billie has hit the snooze on the deep, pervy voice he is known for. More disappointing is the tremendous shift from rambunctious guitar work of the past to the generic riffs and chord progressions of “Crimes.”

The entire album walks a fine line between steps toward maturity and steps toward boredom, sometimes crossing over into both. From one line to the next, many of the lyrics are actually predictable and are written as complete sentences, something that may seem like a regression for the band.

But even at their most “boring,” if that adjective can be applied to them, the Blood Brothers paint masterpieces more brilliant and interesting than most of the hardcore world that refuses to accept them.

Although guitarist Cody Votolato is taking a nap and Billie is a bit groggy, Johnny Whitney and the rest of the band are as sprightly as ever.

Whitney pierces the air with his higher-than-ever vocals as if he’s being pricked in the bum with a needle … and he likes it.

In addition to the coherency of each individual song, which seems to counter their being labeled “no-core,” the Blood Brothers advance their tactics by keeping with the theme of “Crimes” in the album. The crimes targeted — ambiguous allusions to capital punishment, the corporate takeover of the music industry, the dehumanization of America and other classic punk topics — are nothing new. But the charisma with which the boys blast these injustices will leave listeners in a militant sweat.

— Andrew Mabe

Pig Destroyer

“Terrifyer” (Relapse Records)

Compare to: Agoraphobic Nosebleed, Nasum, Napalm Death

Most metal bands are content to pummel a listener’s ears with their music.

Washington, D.C. grindcore trio Pig Destroyer, on the other hand, wants to cut them off with rusty power tools and feed them to you. Cramming 21 tracks into 32 minutes, the group’s latest album, “Terrifyer,” is a whirlwind of tightly wound audial brutality combining the most vicious elements of thrash, grind, hardcore and death metal with devastating results.

Crawling out of the filthiest gutters of the metal underground, “Terrifyer” is a skull-crushing descent into the mind of a psychopath.

From the macabre artwork and lyrical content that reads like excerpts from Jeffrey Dahmer’s diary to the sickening guitar and drum assault of tracks such as “Pretty in Casts” and “Lost Cause,” no other band in metal immerses the listener as fully in its twisted, nightmarish world of obsession, lust and monumental acts of violence.

“Terrifyer” isn’t all merciless blast-beats, however, and it’s on tracks where the band slows things down, such as “Gravedancer,” “Towering Flesh” and “Crawl of Time,” that Pig Destroyer’s newfound attention to songwriting shines through the speed and abrasiveness. The album is accompanied by the DVD audio disc “Natasha,” a 37-minute track that sees Pig Destroyer stretching its sound even further, incorporating slower tempos, samples and ambient soundscapes into its caustic sound. It is this combination of manic, pulverizing intensity and willingness to experiment that makes “Terrifyer” such a disturbing, yet mesmerizing, listen.

With “Terrifyer,” Pig Destroyer has created 2004’s most harrowing album, the musical equivalent of watching your psycho ex-boyfriend or girlfriend messily carve your name into their flesh with a razorblade.

If you’ve ever wondered what it would sound like if Hannibal Lecter started a band with Leatherface and Michael Myers, pick up “Terrifyer.”

— Joshua Haun