Being a part of this Atlanta-based quartet is great for a rapper’s CV. Since the release of the Boyz’ 2005 self-titled debut, its breakout star, Young Jeezy, has released two platinum albums. Now, his replacement, Gorilla Zoe, steals the show with a booming, raspy voice and a looming, oversize persona (sound familiar?) on punishing tracks like “We Ridin’” and “Everybody Know Me.” But it’s not enough to compensate for awkwardly corny misfires like “Jump,” which references the Van Halen classic. Even Dave and Eddie could agree that was a bad idea. THOMAS GOLIANOPOULOS

The minor-key horns and creeping bass lines will scare, not ease, you onto the dance floor. SEAN HOWE

disciple than fashionable Sinatra impersonator. He also owes quite a bit to spy-movie soundtracks, gussying up tales of constant deception and poisoned champagne with orchestral swirls (courtesy of music students on loan from the University of Kansas) and the occasional groovy covocalist. But for all his lavish production, Cleandenim’s swinging ’60s act has the whiff of novelty—a collection of clever show tunes that leave only a fleeting impression. LINDSEY THOMAS

 

The Brunettes Structure & Cosmetics ITUNES MYSPACE Duo embellish playful indie pop with grown-up moodiness On 2004’s Mars Loves Venus, these New Zealanders developed a scrappy, concise, girl-group-tinged sound. But with the band’s third LP and Sub Pop debut, Heather Mansfield and Jonathan Bree inject their twee aesthetic with psychedelic flourishes both buoyant and shadowy. On opener “Brunettes Against Bubblegum Youth,” a handclap ditty swells with horns, spacey blips, and buzzy, driving guitar. Though the Brunettes’ dreamy sonics occasionally wander off course (“Her Hairagami Set”), the band’s endearing lyricism benefits from the instrumental boost. WILLIAM GOODMAN

Caribou Andorra ITUNES MYSPACE Canadian bedroom auteur follows his stoner-pop bliss

The fourth Caribou album by multi-instrumentalist Dan Snaith (who has also recorded electronic music under the moniker Manitoba) sounds like it was hatched in a ’60s West Coast haze where melodies billow up like bong smoke. Snaith now claims he’s taking time to compose songs, rather than winging it in the studio, and these sticky-pop confections are the result, full of lithe vocals (including a Junior Boys cameo on the indelible “She’s the One”), swooping keyboards, distant drums, and assorted benign flashbacks. JASON GROSS

 

The Budos Band The Budos Band II ½ ITUNES MYSPACE Imagine the background music for a CHiPs episode—but creepy

This Staten Island crew specializes in a very specifically ’70s sound—the Latin- and Afro-based groove that lurked on records by groups like Cymande, African Music Machine, and Mulatu Astatke, but later found its biggest mainstream exposure (in highly watered-down form) via TV cop shows. Though they share a label and members with the Dap-Kings—the band that lays down anachronistic grooves behind retro-soul belters Sharon Jones and Amy Winehouse—the Budos’ funk is of a decidedly sinister bent:

Peter Case Let Us Now Praise Sleepy John ½ ITUNES MYSPACE Wide-eyed acoustic picaresques from a skinny-tie icon

When he was power-popping the Valley Girl soundtrack to infinity and beyond with the Plimsouls’ “A Million Miles Away,” Peter Case showed no signs of becoming a folkie with a Beat poet’s flair. But the singer/songwriter now effortlessly laces soulfully picked guitar with wiseguy one-liners. “I thought I was smart,” he cracks on the boozy hootenanny “Every 24 Hours,” “but that was last night.” And on “Ain’t Gonna Worry No More,” when Case asks for “a pack of Camels and a bottle of schnapps” over ethereal chord changes, feel free to front him the money: He’s Charles Bukowski with a new-wave past. SHANNON ZIMMERMAN

Collie Buddz Collie Buddz ITUNES MYSPACE He’s earned the right never to be called “The Informer” again

Yes, Collie Buddz, a.k.a. Colin Harper, is white. Yes, he’s been tagged as the Eminem of reggae. But the New Orleans–born, Bermuda-raised MC/producer’s debut album is all about the versatility of his undeniable skills. He has mastered hardcore dancehall chatting (“Blind to You”), lover’s rock crooning (“Tomorrow’s Another Day”), and Rasta chanting (crossover ganja anthem “Come Around”). There’s even a sweet soca tune and a collaboration on which Houston white rapper Paul Wall deftly rides a reggae riddim. Buddz proves the pop rule: Catchiness transcends color. BAZ DREISINGER

In hip-hop, a good
conscience only
gets you so far.
Sore Throat
MC vet struggles with fundamental flaw

Talib Kweli Ear Drum ½ ITUNES MYSPACE

NABIL

Patrick Cleandenim Baby Comes Home ½ ITUNES MYSPACE Crooning whiz kid stirs up a sophisticated pop cocktail

It’s tempting to label Cleandenim a hip response to Michael Bublé, but in truth, this 22-year-old New York– via–Kansas jazz-pop prodigy is more obsessive Bacharach

David Dondero Simple Love ITUNES MYSPACE The influential whistle that only the Bright-Eyed can hear

The world has David Dondero to blame and to thank for Conor Oberst. The Bright Eyes singer/songwriter clearly emulates the alt-rock journeyman’s lip-quivering vocal style and straightforward, narrative lyrics— and now even releases his records. But where Oberst succeeds in making connections with naked emotional gestures, Dondero lacks that raw poetic impulse, hitting his subjects too bluntly and plainly. That might’ve worked well for dust-bowl folkies, but nowadays, lines like “My religion is in nature, art, and literacy” (from “Rothko Chapel”) border on the schmaltzy. JOSH MODELL

Despite his formidable craft, searing wit, and impeccable taste, Talib Kweli has been resolutely unable to shake his status as a hip-hop could’ve-been. He gets consistently positive reviews but doesn’t sell a ton of records, a fact often attributed to either record-company incompetence or Kweli’s perpetual struggle to appeal to both backpackers and thugs. But there’s something else keeping him down: his voice.

While Kweli is an immensely talented lyricist, his nasally, slightly weedy vocals can make him sound like your mouthy little brother. Consequently, Ear Drum is on its firmest footing when he shares the spotlight: Jean Grae contributes a potent verse to the jittery, will.i.am.-

produced old-school burner “Say Something”; UGK’s cool, commanding Bun B and Pimp C are an effective contrast to Kweli’s eager flow on “Country Cousins”; and Just Blaze’s typically massive production—thumping beat, stately piano chords, and soaring church choir— balances Kweli’s acrobatic diatribe on “Hostile Gospel.”

But sometimes, Kweli’s
gifts are his undoing. A blitz
of breathless verbiage only
He’s on his firmest
footing when he
shares the spotlight.

makes “NY Weather Report” sound claustrophobic. And “In the Mood” aims for a romantic cocktail-lounge vibe, but the MC’s unceasing chatter extinguishes any carnal thoughts. Though Kweli can’t change the voice he was born with, he needs to figure out how to make it as compelling as his material. DAVID PEISNER