Kinda rubbed my eyes upon reading that Plastic Beach is only the third album from Gorillaz, who’ve been around for more than a decade and sort of always seem to be a topic of conversation, whether for a record or a new cartoon or a Coachella set or the announcement of a Coachella set or whatevs. On Plastic Beach, which has been in the works since late 2007 or so, it’s all about the guests—meaning the songs without them come off a bit flat. Thankfully there are only five of those out of 16 total tracks—the rest feature a typically bizarre mix of the famous (Snoop Dogg, veteran R&B star Bobby Womack, Mos Def, De La Soul, a not entirely out-of-place Lou Reed) and the should-be famous (Mark E. Smith and er, The Lebanese National Orchestra for Oriental Arabic Music). The cartoon pop band does great in providing a widescreen backing in great big Technicolor sound: cool beats, plenty of strings and exotic touches, and Albarn & his friends pulling the strings have another can’t-miss smash on their hands, an ultra-rarity these days. (Limited deluxe CD/DVD version includes “45-minute ‘making of’ documentary DVD that provides online access to extra music, games and video.”) (M.L. Thrope)

To be honest, Scottish band Frightened Rabbit’s singer-songwriter Scott Hutchison does seem like the kind of raggedly emotional guy who’d turn himself into a hermit for his art—and that’s precisely what he did to write his band’s third LP, escaping to a small village on the Scottish coast. Backed by stormy walls of guitar, yelp-along choruses and foot-stomp percussion (from Scott’s brother Grant), Hutchison borrows the small-town/big-sea imagery of his refuge and dives headlong into consuming desperation and sublime angst (“Swim until you can’t see land!” goes one thrilling chorus). Not many bands can make self-doubt sound so triumphant and promising—it’s no wonder these guys’ fans are so rabidly dedicated. (Vinyl includes digital download.) (Abby)

“You showed me so much ... you showed me so much” sings Olga Goreas in her spun-silk voice on “Albatross,” one of the more explosively pretty songs on the Besnard Lakes’ third album, the grandiose-sounding, grandiose-titled Are the Roaring Night. I’d like to tell you about the rest of the album, but I might have to listen to “Albatross” seven or eight times in a row first, so bear with me. long pause At times the Lakes resemble My Bloody Valentine with a more pastoral bent, resulting in a bit of listener-fatigue—a little more contrast would set off the band’s many beautiful high-points better. But it’s hard to complain when Goreas sings; the sound of her voice, embedded in crashing waves of the band’s guitars and orchestral-caliber oomph, is its own reason. (M.L. Thrope)

James Mercer of the Shins plus Danger Mouse: Okay then, what are your questions? Well, basically, all you want to know is, Does this pairing work? Yup. Danger Mouse’s skill as a producer, you could say, is just that—making things work. And while it can be a little unnerving hearing Mercer’s voice with effects on it (minimal though they are), Broken Bells really does end up like the sum total of its parts: Mercer’s high vocals and innate pop sensibilities in the service of Danger Mouse’s aesthetic, which manifests here as a strangely alluring modernist take on ’70s music (a certain electric-piano sound, a certain type of analog-synth sound, et cetera). First single “The High Road” also exhibits the wispy melancholy that emanates from much of the album, and which seems to be a natural by-product of this musical union. Faintly bittersweet and definitely recommended for Shins fans and anyone interested in the ways pop music moves forward—not in huge leaps but natural progressions. (Vinyl includes digital download.) (M. L. Thrope)

The very name Ted Leo is legend here in New York City, based as much on his brilliant outdoor jacked-generator performance during the big blackout of 2003 as on his countless high-octane live gigs in regular old clubs. The Brutalist Bricks, his first album for Matador and sixth overall, alters little of Leo’s genius-punk-poet M.O.: 13 tracks of impeccably sharp, politically righteous pop nuggets that hit like rocket-shards of truth—Billy Bragg reborn as a young Elvis Costello, with all the savage wit and romantic heart of both. Those aren’t lazy comparisons either— just listen to “Even Heroes Have to Die” or “Last Days” or “Bottled Up in Cork” (to name three tunes you could enjoy with your parents, to the embarrassment of none) and you’ll realize that Leo is building a canon that will one day stand with the above veterans. (Vinyl includes digital download.) (M.L. Thrope)

Long established as a “noise” act, the duo Yellow Swans have made scrambled mincemeat of such genrefications for just about as long. Structured freedom, scorched earth colonized by dream-pop melodies, subaquatic pulsebeat jams for an oxygen-deprived world, ambient squalls of analog dust across digital terrain— every contradictory way you could describe this Portland team’s music is in its fullest expression on Going Places, sadly, the final studio recording by Yellow Swans, who’ve parted ways. It makes sense to find Going Places released by Type, a label whose M.O. poos all over fake boundaries constructed between noise, pop and ambience. The band clearly had an exit strategy—the names of the six spacious tracks here even trace an arc: “Foiled,” “Opt Out,” “Limited Space,” “New Life,” “Going Places” . . . Yes indeed, this may be their final album, but as we all know, dreams such as these never really end. (Vinyl includes a CD copy of album.) (M.L. Thrope)

This is the third jj album in barely over a year. If that isn’t how the hell!? enough for you, consider this: the Gothenberg, Sweden (we think) group steadfastly refuses to provide any information about themselves, not even how many members they have. I’d probably think this was all some kind of racket if the lead singer didn’t have that unmistakable, honey-smooth blue-eyed R&B croon echoing through the wide empty spaces in these nine tracks. As accessible as this stuff is, it’s tough to categorize. The blending of acoustic guitar and keening harmonica on techno ballad “Let Go” suggests something vaguely clubby and tasteless, but the beat never hits the synthetic ecstasy you expect. Rather, the song floats and bounces in a stark white echo-chamber, like astronauts having a dance party in low oxygen. Even when the beats do kick in, they sound like afterthoughts clattering quietly beneath a sweeping synth. No. 3 is all totally digestible, but strangely disconcerting—an effect even more enigmatic than jj itself. (Vinyl includes digital download.) (Abby)

It’s been nearly 40 years since we lost Jimi Hendrix, but his vaults have still not quite been emptied. Fans, quite rightly, treat posthumous releases with some suspicion, but Valleys of Neptune is no cynical attempt to cash in on the Hendrix name. What I like about the record is that it’s not only a nice collection of unreleased tracks (well, kind of unreleased, more on that later) but it also represents an interesting period in Hendrix’s career, when he was getting tired of the trio format and exploring the blues more. At several points on the record Hendrix goes off into some stellar jams—it’s exhilarating stuff, perhaps signaling some of the fissures in that band at the time. The material is not entirely new—hardcore Hendrix enthusiasts discovered many of these tracks years ago—but they’ve been cleaned up and remastered by engineer Eddie Kramer, who worked with Hendrix, and several others. We get new versions of “Stone Free,” “Fire” and “Red House,” a fine instrumental of “Sunshine of Your Love,” and some new tracks that may not make us forget the classics but still make nice additions to the Hendrix canon. Overall, with 60 minutes of music, Valleys of Neptune was put together with care and intelligence, and it works cohesively as a record. Still, if you are new to Hendrix or are only familiar with his FM-radio staples, you should start with his back catalog, rereleased this week as well: Are You Experienced?, Axis: Bold as Love and Electric Ladyland, all beautifully restored with bonus DVDs. (James)

Soundway has done a great job with this. Even the Fela Kuti cut—an early 7” version of “Who’re You?” that’s rawer than the more familiar version—has not previously been reissued. The other big name here, Orlando Julius, is also represented by a track new to CD, “Afro-Blues”; only one track here has been reissued outside of Nigeria before now. One of the revelatory factors of this compilation is how different everything is from Fela: his invention of the Afrobeat style inspired the other ten bands included here to follow him into the style, but in their own ways, so there’s more variety here than you might expect. The three-LP set has five additional tracks not on the CD. (Steve)

This album’s lengthy subtitle still doesn’t encompass all of the sounds on display here. The Don Issac Ezekiel Combination has gospel-group harmonizing, several groups deploy jazz-tinged stylings, and Joy Nwoso even displays the influence of opera. Buttressing most tracks, and tying together the album, are the highlife grooves (conveyed not only on percussion but also the cyclical guitar riffs) that modernized traditional polyrhythms. The three-LP set has three additional tracks not on the CD. (Steve)