PopMatters.com

The Futureheads: "This Is Not the World" (Nul)

Rating: 8

On their third full-length, "This Is Not the World," the Futureheads are rhythmically anxious, melodically electrifying, and almost mechanically precise. They are arguably the best of the current wave of British post-punk bands, but something has changed. The stakes seem higher, the nervousness quickened, the instruments slash and claw with seething desperation. It's all a rush of throbbing eighth notes and downstrokes, of gasps and eyes-shut plunges, a collection of songs that sorts out nuanced arrangements with a blunt bludgeoning tool. The intensity of "This Is Not the World" could also be attributed to the presence of Martin "Youth" Glover, a founding member of Killing Joke, who serves as the album's producer. The touchstones of early `80s new wave remain (the verses of "Sale of the Century" recall early XTC, "Broke Up the Time" stutters like Devo, and Hyde's heavy accent descends from an artist like Joe Jackson), but the soldered combo of guitars, bass, and drums is a decidedly contemporary juggernaut. "The Beginning of the Twist," for example, is aggressive, headstrong, and caught in a minor-key whirlpool _ the band has never sounded this alert and insistent, let alone this martial. Zeth Lundy

Ladytron: "Velocifero" (Nettwerk)

Rating: 8

Here we are six years after "Seventeen" held indie scenesters spellbound, and Ladytron still sounds as fresh as ever. Two and a half years removed from the shockingly gorgeous "Witching Hour," we have a band that continues its graceful musical evolution on album number four, incorporating subtle enhancements here and there, yet at the same time comfortably staying the course. Thanks to the contributions of Nine Inch Nails collaborator Allesandro Cortini and trendy electro artist Vicarious Bliss, both of whom serve as co-producers on the album, the end result is a record that feels familiar and eclectic at the same time, a continuation of Ladytron's increasing fascination with light versus shade, emotional warmth versus unrelenting iciness. The overall effect of "Velocifero" is not unlike an icy breeze blowing in off a lake on a sunny summer's day: sumptuous at times, but once that wind kicks in, we're chilled to the bone. And the way the 13-track album is sequenced, it's clear that the band, comprised of singer/ keyboardists Helen Marnie and Mira Aroyo, along with keyboardists Daniel Hunt and Reuben Wu, clearly knows how to keep its audience unsettled, setting listeners up with a handful of pop-friendly tunes only to come from out of nowhere with moments of jarring bleakness. Adrien Begrand

Aimee Mann: "@#%&! Smilers" (Superego)

Rating: 6

Because Aimee Mann is one of the two or three most consistently excellent pop musicians working today, a misstep from an artist of her calibre is generally better than much of what you'll find on the average singer-songwriter's masterwork. Over the past 20 years, she has crafted an extraordinary number of immensely beautiful melodies, and peopled her songs with an array of deeply considered and memorable characters struggling with complex problems. Where "The Forgotten Arm" seemed an artistic step forward from the melodic and thematic sameness of "Bachelor No. 2" and "Lost in Space," her latest record is more harkening-backward than forward-looking. Awkwardly titled "@#%&! Smilers," Mann's new record is smooth, moody and a bit undistinguished. With organs (usually synthesizers) replacing the guitar-heavy arrangements that marked most of her previous work, there's a newness to the sound, but there's also a nagging current of repetition running through the record. For example, the inclusion of a synth line in the opening track ("Freeway") doesn't stop us from hearing the melodic similarities to "The Forgotten Arm's" "Going Through the Motions." Moreover, Mann has never much resorted to spoof or homage on previous work, but she lifted that synthesizer sound and approach clean from The Cars' hit song "Let's Go." Strange. Ultimately, on her seventh solo record since splitting from `Til Tuesday in the late `80s, Mann is treading dangerously close to a self-referential songwriting style. Stuart Henderson

Radiohead: "The Best Of" (Capitol)

Rating: 7

When a successful artist leaves a major label, you can almost guarantee that a sampling of that act's best-known wares will surface within a year's time. It's pretty unlikely that the artist will be invited over for tea and tracklist suggestions, either. Given all of that, "Radiohead: The Best Of" actually shows affection for the band. It would have been very easy for Capitol to just slap together a single-disc collection of the group's singles, running them in chronological order, and call it a day. Instead, the label offers multiple formats for multiple tastes: one CD, two CDs, four LPs, and a 23-piece shellac 78-RPM folio. The cynical-minded among you will say that the label is merely hedging its bets and hoping to appeal to every kind of Radiohead fan. This might be true, but whoever oversaw this project did a darn good job with the track selection and running order. It's as if the compilers put together an ideal playlist, only to realize they still had a few tracks they felt necessary to include, but had no real place for. Anyone who's tried to cobble together a mix that fairly represents all stages of the band's career have likely run into this same problem. Radiohead's trajectory was sure and swift, as they quickly transformed themselves from Britpop bit players into genre-busting artists of worldwide renown. Better known for their albums than their singles, their oeuvre isn't well suited for dissecting, shuffling, and reassembling. Those who put together Radiohead's "The Best Of" handled this daunting task well. Michael Keefe

Adem: "Takes" (Domino)

Rating: 7

Indie cover albums are, it seems, the order of the year. Following Cat Power's "Jukebox" of Chan Marshall's influences and Decemberist Colin Meloy's third album of tributary renditions, Adem Ilhan (one half of experimental post-rock duo Fridge and creator of two solo sets of warm, spacey folk-pop) has also risked a foray into replicative territory. But where Meloy tackled the objects of his affection with naught but a gobful of earnest but affable whimsy, Adem does so with a menagerie of musical whirlygigs, if no less sincerity. His sound remains mostly the same as on his self-penned material: mellow, warm and earthy. This means that, at "Takes'" best, a newfound gentility is lent to areas it previously left ungraced. The most obvious case in point is an ambitious integration of Aphex Twin's "To Cure a Weakling Child" and "Boy/Girl Song" which replaces the former's cut-up infant vocal with Adem's own half-sighed-half-crooned huskiness, and Richard David James's electronic abrasion with a gradual swell of comparatively wholesome guitars, banjos and keys. As the album's most dramatic departure and most spellbinding offering, placed at its mid-point it serves as "Takes'" worthy centerpiece. "Takes" is a worthwhile, if not always essential, venture. Chris Baynes