Enter Shikari Take to the Skies ½ ITUNES MYSPACE The sound of a million glow sticks being used as weapons

Where similar U.S. synth-core units like Horse the Band shuck mass appeal through atonality, England’s Enter Shikari have no interest in staying obscure. On their debut album, the Internet-storming quartet wed hardcore punk’s most crowd-rallying elements—intense breakdowns and gang vocals—to the melodic buildup of that most populist of dance genres, trance. But no matter how extreme the opposing sounds that Take to the Skies tries to unite (“Return to Energizer” even flirts with death metal), its hooks and choruses are so strong they almost sound natural. AARON BURGESS

having the run of R&B kingpin Dallas Austin’s palatial studio, Stallings opts for more low-key performances (most of the heavily processed, indistinct vocals are his) and bedroom hooks. The bounciest bits are borrowed: “Sweet Frosti” is Devo’s “Snowball” with new lyrics and fewer chords. Maybe the newly aloof producer is holding back the catnip for that long-delayed Diddy dance collaboration. BARRY WALTERS

The Dirty Projectors: Ron
Reyes–era Jealous Again Black Flag
or Henry Rollins–era Damaged?

Felix Da Housecat Virgo Blaktro & the Movie Disco ½ ITUNES MYSPACE Kittenz and Thee Glitz producer forgets to bring the sparkle

Electro-house pioneer Felix Stallings drastically pares down the guest list of his previous party-ready Housecat albums for the vague ache of mid-’80s synth-pop balladry. Despite

Dave Gahan Hourglass ½ ITUNES MYSPACE For the black-clad diehards who still just can’t get enough

An improved sequel to the Depeche Mode singer’s pseudo bluesy 2003 solo debut, Paper Monsters, Hourglass blatantly resembles sedate, later-day Depeche, inevitably inviting comparisons to bandmate Martin Gore’s compositional chops. Gahan employs the same sidemen who helped him pen his three much-fought-for contributions to DM’s stately 2005 album, Playing the Angel, and self-examining ballads like the stark “Miracles” nearly meet Gore’s standards. But the overwrought, rockier cuts still reek. BARRY WALTERS

Richard Hawley Lady’s Bridge ½ ITUNES MYSPACE Timeless, sophisticated ballads from former Pulp guitarist Hawley names most of his albums for local Sheffield, England landmarks, but he doesn’t keep provincial musical borders. The fifth solo album by this in-demand session man, who includes Jarvis Cocker and Scott Walker among his employers, sports graceful, cosmopolitan piano and strings, while Hawley croons like a debonair chansonnier who’s overdosed on Jim Reeves and Serge Gainsbourg. He occasionally ups the pulse for jovial kicks, but the record maintains its hypnotic spell with slow-as-IV-drip rhythms that set the scene for Hawley’s moonlit walks down lonely streets. ROB O’CONNOR

Johnossi Johnossi ITUNES MYSPACE The Swedish garage-rock recipe: one part fuzz, one part mope When it comes to bluesy guitars-and-drums duos, there are generally two camps: the fuzzy fury of the White Stripes and Black Keys or the bar-stool-bound mopiness of Two Gallants. Johnossi, a pair of Southern-sounding Swedes, try out both approaches on their debut, moving from unpolished, thrashy romps to more honeyed, tumbleweed ditties. But it’s lyrically where they’re most refreshing, as singer John Engelbert encourages his parables’ moribund and wayward subjects to “eat a caramel and be happy” (“The Show Tonight”) or to consider lemonade as a panacea (“Santa Monica Bay”). JULIA SIMON

Jens Lekman Night Falls Over Kortedala ITUNES MYSPACE Spectacularly bombastic pop from Scandinavian crooner Swedish-born songwriter Jens Lekman has a penchant for grand pronouncements, and his pop opuses are rife with strings, choirs, and samples (everything from Renaldo & the Loaf’s “Hambu Hodo” to his own childhood squeaks). On “Friday Night at the Drive-in Bingo,” Lekman chatters about white bunnies, apple cider, and mopeds over smarmy sax and chipper synths. His swoon may echo the drama of Stephin Merritt and Morrissey, but it’s his so-twee-it-hurts delivery that’ll make you feel like you’re at a roadside bingo hall in rural

Junkie Business
Pete Doherty straightens up, flies right. Psych!
“Okay, I let my cat
smoke crack. But
she fancied it!”
Babyshambles
Shotter’s Nation
ITUNES

Has rock’n’roll ever produced a less sympathetic junkie genius than Pete Doherty? Biopics like Walk the Line suggest that tortured artists turn to drug and drink in an attempt to navigate a world too harsh for their wounded souls. Yet Doherty, whose arrest record makes Lindsay Lohan look like Dakota Fanning, comes off as a petulant brat with an appetite for self-destruction. His ultimate goal seems no loftier than seeing how far he can push the English judicial system. Here’s Doherty explaining his chronic misbehavior on the new album by Babyshambles, the band he formed following the demise of the late, great Libertines: “It’s not easy getting out of bed.”

Well, then—all is forgiven!

According to the classic junkie-genius narrative, Shotter’s Nation— which follows up 2005’s proudly shambolic debut, Down in Albion— should be the record that proves Doherty is capable of Getting His Shit Together. And in a way, it is: Produced with a bright guitar-rock jangle by Stephen Street (the Smiths, Blur), the disc contains some of Doherty’s most coherent tunes yet, including “Baddie’s Boogie,” a thoughtfully observed

The tunes are some of
Doherty’s most coherent.

domestic drama, and “There She Goes,” which is nearly as lovely as the La’s song of the same name. But Shotter’s Nation is still clotted with half-realized melodies and gutter-poet grime. If Doherty wants us to overlook the next time he barfs on our doorstep, he needs to work a little harder to inspire a spirit of generosity. MIKAEL WOOD

FROM TOP: MIA FERM; ANDY COT TERILL/CAMERA PRESS/RE TNA