No longer giving their albums such terse and phonetic titles as Takk and Von, Sigur Ros has thrown us a nice little curve with its latest, Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust (that’s the last time I type that). The title may sound ponderous, but the music is the loosest and most pop-friendly of the Icelandic outfit’s illustrious career. Once known for painstaking work in the studio, the band decided to work under a different setting this time, not only recording outside their native Iceland but also completing the record from start to finish in the same year, while touring no less. Sometimes you gotta shake things up once a while, and you’ll be glad Sigur Ros did just that, creating an album loaded with fresh hooks (“Gobbledigood”) and moments of spare loveliness (“Illegresi”) while still maintaining the intense, driving sound that made the band such a marvel to begin with. (Ralph)

The shape of punk to come? Obscured, misunderstood genius? Run-of-the-mill dude with an offensive band name? The music of Mephis madman Jay Reatard up to this point has offered more questions than answers, existing in the form of limited 7”s, internet message board activity and historically violent live shows. Maybe this collection will shed a little light on the much-mentioned, seldom heard sounds of Jay and co. Collecting six out-of-print vinyl eps, Singles follows the trend recently set by No Age and High Places of collection-as-album, and like those originators, Reatard’s songs flow nicely as short bursts of inspiration later clustered together. With a voice eerily similar to deceased Germs vocalist Darby Crash and an understated Bowie-esque glam influence, these 17 songs plow by with equal parts frenetic punk energy and melodic sensibility. For those less interested in the songs than the hype, you’re in luck, because there’s a bonus DVD with four speed-of-light live shows from far and wide. Look no further than the heartbroken-yet-snotty “Oh It’s Such A Shame” to evaporate the hype and let Jay Jay shine through as the killer songwriter he is. (Fred)

You can’t pin down Odd Nosdam. David Madson’s cut-and-paste experimental outfit likes to confound, whether he’s giving us the warm ambience of 2005’s brilliant Burner or last year’s dark and lovely Level Live Wires, about the only thing you can pretty much expect from Odd Nosdam is excellent music. Now Madson has given us a two-disc collection of unreleased tracks and remixes, a strange notion given that everything Odd Nosdam releases has an odds-and-ends quality to it, but I’m not complaining. The first disc has Nosdam’s typical array of found sounds and layers of synth and drone, but many of the tracks come with heavier beats that occasionally smack of hip-hop. You get a good sense of Nosdam’s skills as a remix artist, working with the likes of Black Moth Super Rainbow, Jessica Bailiff, Serena Maneesh and Boards of Canada. The second disc, an EP, features Nosdam’s ambient side, recalling the crackling analog warmth of Burner. Indeed, “My Prayer Rug” is a B-side from Burner, a slow builder that climaxes with “Dayvan Cowboy,” a stunning collaboration with Boards. Also featuring three videos, Pretty Swell Explode is everything we’ve come to expect from Odd Nosdam, a treasure of wonderful sounds that always surprises and delights. (James)

In terms of the element of surprise, not much can top popping a James Blackshaw CD in the player and immediately hearing solo piano, as is the case here. But since he plays that piano in a way that fits perfectly into his style, it’s more an expansion of his sonic possibilities than a change in direction, and he plays 12-string guitar on the rest of the disc until piano returns on the final track, helped out by Fran Bury on violin and viola for a bit more sonic variety. Most of the time this is a bit more stripped down and intimate than his other recent releases, but it always offers the quietly meditative flow Blackshaw’s so good at. Comparisons to other guitarists are now besides the point: Blackshaw has established himself as a one-of-a-kind artist. (Steve)

New DFA signee’s Syclops intend to take you through an aural history of electronic music. No, seriously, like, on every single song. Early reviews tagged this UK knob-twiddling trio’s sound as primarily electro, but the 10 songs and nearly an hour of bloops, bleeps and beats on I’ve Got My Eye On You cover a much broader spectrum than that. There’s blatant Kraftwerk referencing on the icy and meditative “Naoka’s F”, harsh Detroit-style 808 electro on “Where’s Jason’s K?” and “Mom, The Video Broke” runs the gamut, incorporating Aphex Twin rhythms and even corny 90’s acid-jazz, but in a good way. The success of I’ve Got My Eye On You is the seamlessness with which the band breaks in and out of character, lending rock instrumentation to an obviously knowledgeable electronic sound and creating a schizo brew of sound. The tile track, near the end of the record, offers the album’s summit, as ambient textures and a simple, kraut-rock-inspired drum machine settle the entire surgical procedure we’ve just undergone with a moment to catch our breath. (Fred)