Atmosphere

“Seven’s Travels” (Rhymesayers)

Compare to: Heiruspecs, Eminem, Hieroglyphics

On its fourth full-length album, the Minneapolis-based band Atmosphere continues to define the new Midwestern hip-hop sound.

Consisting of one MC, Slug, and a producer, Ant, Atmosphere has stuck to the lyrically-driven, sample-heavy songs that have won them so many fans and so much critical acclaim, while still continuing to test new musical boundaries.

This album is truly an eclectic mix of the different styles and sounds Atmosphere has put out in the last decade. It has everything from the hard, driving beats and lyrics of “Bird Sings Why The Caged I Know” to the more mellow “emo-hop” that Atmosphere is famous for on “Always Coming Back Home To You.”

Lyrically, Slug shows he still has a sense of humor about his financial status by saying things like “I pledge allegiance to Budweiser and free drugs” and “Here I am alone in an airport bar / Why?/ Just ’cause I don’t own a car.” Slug also pledges his allegiance to his home by devoting the entire hidden track “Shh” to representing the towns he’s visited in and around the Midwest.

Beat-wise, Ant is still at the cutting edge of independent hip-hop, using everything from mouth harps to washboards. He even tries a cabana-like sound on “The Keys to Life vs. 15 Minutes of Fame.”

“Seven’s Travels” has mostly great tracks throughout the whole album, but there are still some weak spots, unlike the band’s previous two albums. Travels has too many filler short songs and skits, which seem to almost be required in any rap album these days.

Also, ironically, probably the weakest track on the album is the first single released, “Cats Van Bags” featuring fellow Minneapolis Rapper Brother Ali.

But, for what flaws “Seven’s Travels” may have, the great songs on the album completely overshadow any bad. This is one of the better albums to come out this year and a must-have for any hip-hop fan.

— Josh Madden

The Dandy Warhols

“Welcome to the Monkey House” (Capitol)

Compare to: Spoon, Echo and the Bunnymen, Hot Hot Heat

If the new sound you hear from The Dandy Warhols’ latest album appears to be a little old, it is.

On their fourth full-length album, the Dandys have cast aside the heavy guitars and Velvet Underground-inspired rock for a quirkier, more upbeat sound. Turning their inspiration towards ’80s rockers Duran Duran and David Bowie, the Portland, Ore. quartet has created a playful mixture of bubbly sounds infused with electronic pulses, zesty keyboards and synthesized grooves.

The band even sought out a few of their idols to help create the album. Duran Duran keyboardist Nick Rhodes lends his expertise in co-producing “Welcome to the Monkey House.” Along with Rhodes is fellow bandmate Simon Le Bon, who steals the show with his falsetto on the track, “Plan A.”

The surprising element of this album appears in lead singer Courtney Taylor-Taylor’s vocals. His droning voice is morphed into an astonishingly wide range of vocals. At times, Taylor-Taylor is able to extend his range into an alarmingly high falsetto.

With the release of “Welcome to the Monkey House,” the Dandys appear to be trying to reach a broader audience with a few tracks on the verge of mainstream. The electro-pop mix “We Used to be Friends” is undoubtedly a radio-friendly tune. Sprinkled with artificial hand claps and fun exclamations, the track proves to be one of the catchiest on the album.

“The Last High,” co-written by former Lemonhead band member Evan Dando, is a more subdued track. Taylor-Taylor’s saddened, submissive voice carries the lyrics well, taking the listener into a mellow trance.

In a music world saturated by indie rock and heavy, guitar-laced tracks, the Dandy Warhols do not succeed in generating a new sound. They do, however, succeed in revitalizing familiar sounds from the past.

— Katie Piepel

Lyle Lovett

“My Baby Don’t Tolerate” (Curb)

Compare to: Elvis Costello,

Emmylou Harris, Thomas Van Zandt

Lyle Lovett’s latest, “My Baby Don’t Tolerate,” has been met with an audible sigh from his following.

Lovett’s fans have waited seven years for a new album, and they won’t be disappointed. The four-time Grammy winner has been in and out of the media spotlight as a composer, singer, and actor, but his return to music is welcomed.

In his career, he’s picked up a following in the literate rock circle. Not to say you need a school-bought education to enjoy Lyle, because he keeps it real — and not real wordy.

The song “In My Own Mind” gives comparison to the imagery found on Bruce Springsteen’s “Nothing Man.” “Wallisville Road” and “Big Dog” keep the rock alive, alternating between slower, bluesy tunes.

With “My Baby Don’t Tolerate,” Lovett has dropped some of the puzzling eccentricities found in his earlier work and picked up a more straightforward writing style, placing images in your mind that grow with an odd mystery.

Lovett’s appealing delivery, comparable to a Jeff Tweedy or a Ryan Adams, keeps you listening. His inflection is unpredictable, and it works with these types of country-tinged songs.

The saying “sometimes the saddest songs are the happiest” is true, sometimes. “You Were Always There” is about death and being lost with no one to be with or guide you. This song is just sad.

But so as not to be left in the gutter, Lovett wraps the album up with a couple gospel numbers that compare to “The Gospel Songs of Bob Dylan.” There’s a big difference, though. The closing gospel numbers are long and lively but, finally, leave you wandering.

Well, Lyle’s still kicking and singing as good as ever. Who knows where we’ll see him next — maybe acting or composing another batch of pure songs like these.

— Kyle Schmidt

Leona Naess

“Leona Naess” (Geffen)

Compare to: Poe, Dido, Tori Amos

Five years ago, audiences watched “City of Angels.” And although the movie was just a sappy “chick flick” with a sappy soundtrack, listeners fell for “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan and “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls.

Songs like those have a pull stronger than any magnet and some artists use them to their advantage.

It’s a guilty pleasure, with the emphasis on guilty.

Listening to “Don’t Use My Broken Heart,” it’s easy to imagine driving down I-35, away from Ames singing at the top of your lungs, “You know as well as I do or should I remind you/ That yours was broken too.”

Could you ever listen to words like “I didn’t really want you/ But I want you now/ Was so foolish of me/ Feel you tumbling down/ Into that empty room the lights went out” on a regular basis?

Leona Naess, no matter if she’s singing about a sumo wrestling championship or a long-lost love, will have songs that are more than perfect for the moment when the love story emerges in any movie.

At least she’ll always be getting money from the TBS rerun of “Tears for Anna” or whatever movie you and your significant other will cry over this weekend.

This attribute is both the best and worst of Naess’ music. You might love the way the piano-accompanied heartfelt sound eases your pain. Or you might want to stab Naess if she croons about love or how wonderful/horrible life can be one more time.

Her voice is absolutely beautiful, similar to the haunting sweetness of McLachlan. But she fails to use her voice in portraying emotion other than sadness or love.

Maybe Naess doesn’t want to expand herself; she doesn’t need to. But it limits her album to only being a trusty standby when you need a good cry.

Next time a break-up or a new love is around the corner, pull out “Leona Naess.” Otherwise, leave it alone.

— P. Kim Bui