Like they never left, eh? The new album is called Forgiveness Rock Record, so it makes sense for the first glimpse to be a confessional. "I get world sick every time I take a stand," sings Kevin Drew, voicing the frustrations of a generation stymied by ineffectual leaders, outmoded systems, the sheer magnitude of the world's ills. Crucially, though, "World Sick" isn't world sick. Not exactly. Because as Drew sings the hook, he's got the Broken Social Scene guitar army flanking him on all sides-- that blitzkrieg of crush, shock, glory, and melody that nobody has topped in the five years since this collective's last official album. (Sorry, the National, et al.) Broken Social Scene are still standing their ground, even it makes them a bit dizzy.

And while "World Sick" is unmistakable BSS, there are hints of change. The song unfurls for nearly seven minutes, but, unlike some of the meandering epics on 2005's self-titled sprawl, it seems to know exactly where it's headed throughout. It's as concise and focused as a near-seven-minute Broken Social Scene song can be. Some credit is due, perhaps, to new producer John McEntire, who has helped his band Tortoise (and many others) succinctly express an overflow of ideas for more than 15 years. But what differentiates "World Sick" from previous BSS epics is its ending. Just when it feels like the horns are about to blow in and the pedals should be pushed into overdrive, the song dips out for its last two minutes. It's giving you time to consider instead of just ramming through your brain stem full bore. No forgiveness necessary.

[from Forgiveness Rock Record; out 05/04/10 on Arts & Crafts]

Even as music from Sweden becomes critically and commercially recognized, many fantastic acts from the country still fly under the radar. A number of these bands reside on the venerable twee-leaning Labrador label, including the long-running fuzz-pop trio the Radio Dept., who have released just two full-lengths (along with a number of EPs) over their 15-year career. Their 2003 debut Lesser Matters was well received, and they landed three songs to the soundtrack to Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette. But for the most part, bandleader Johan Duncanson and whoever's playing with him have been quietly refining their own soft-focus, shoegaze-indebted sound, occasionally adding drum machines or synthesizers for a slight change of pace.

After several unexplained delays, the Radio Dept. are readying their third album, Clinging to a Scheme, for an April release. "Heaven's on Fire" bodes well for the release. Duncanson's voice is still slathered with layers of distancing echo, adding potency to the song's twin sentiments ("When I look at you/ Heaven's on fire," "One look at you/ Now hell's on fire"), and the stately piano chords are no less affecting than they've been on previous records by labelmates such as Sambassadeur.

In addition to adhering closely to the Labrador sound, "Heaven's on Fire" carries the stamp of fellow Swedish indie Sincerely Yours as well, from the production clarity (a departure from the static lullabies of 2006's Pet Grief) to the Balearic note-bending hidden in the mix to the soft snare backbeat that adds rhythmic propulsion. Not to mention the Thurston Moore vocal sample that opens the song, the sort of musical reference favored by Sincerely Yours all-stars like the Tough Alliance and the Honeydrips. This sort of borrowing may not expand any horizons, but that matters little when, like here, it's all done right.

MP3:> The Radio Dept.: "Heaven's on Fire"

[from Clinging to a Scheme; out 04/21/10 on Labrador]

In the ongoing debate among rap obsessives between those who prefer their MCs dry and technical and those who veer more toward charisma and style, it's easy to see the latter group's long term impact-- think Eazy-E, or Too $hort. In the short term, impressive displays of internal rhyming acrobatics can give an artist an immediate hook-- think Jay Electronica. But as a general tendency, rappers focused on feats of lyrical might will find that their crafted internal-rhyme-wizardry is most effective when it works within the framework of personality or style, when "skills" are subsumed by a wider purpose.

Planet Asia's Gold Chain Military crew indulge in some serious throwback underground hip-hop vibes on "Pleasure and Pain", from the showy "I'm Nazi, kamikaze or even Ozzy"-style lyrical showcases down to the hip-hop-is-my-life track concept. But it's all held in check by the artists' ability to hold the vibe to a consistent tone. Planet Asia is by far the most distinctive talent and invigorating writer here, which suggests no need to get too excited about the record. But the steadiness still reads as an accomplishment.

[from Chain of Command; out now on RBC]

None of the three tracks on James Blake's new EP, The Bells Sketch clear around 72 beats per minute-- a tempo that in medical terms would be about the resting heart rate for a healthy adult, and in dance-music terms would be unbearably fucking slow. But Blake-- a young Londoner who has only released one single and a few remixes-- isn't really making dance music, he's making grinding, electronic soul steeped in Dilla and Stevie Wonder. And not only is "The Bells Sketch" slow, it's punishing-- the song sounds like it's dragging itself through the mud.

Blake grew up playing the piano and makes music built on the chromatic drama of gospel and soul-- a combination that makes his tracks sound more harmonically advanced but also more musically traditional than a lot of electronic producers. But what's more impressive is that all the sounds in the mix feel like they're coming from different musical places: the warped and battered vocal (a mix of samples and Blake's own), the crumbling violin-like sound that opens the song, the video-game noise that bubbles up at the ends of phrases, the g-funk Moog, and the poor guy who starts talking nearly two minutes into the track before being blindsided by bass.

I suss all this stuff out because it surprises me to hear everything in one place. That Blake puts it all together is a testament to his creativity. Though he's putting out records in the dance-music world (first on Untold's label Hemlock; now on Hessle), none of his peers are making music like he is. The conversations I've had about this track are telling: Those of us who like it think it's brilliant, and those who don't think it's a high-concept mess. (I think it's both, but I really like high-concept messes.) I keep thinking of a line that New Yorker music critic Sasha Frere-Jones once wrote while trying to convey how much he admired the imagination of the guitarist Pete Cosey: "Pete Cosey should be paying taxes on another planet." James Blake might live down the road.

[from The Bells Sketch EP, out March on Hessle]

With a string of prized 45s and an upcoming debut on Luaka Bop, Milwaukee's Kings Go Forth set their songs in that fleeting moment when soul transmogrified into disco, emphasizing tight percussion, lyrics that address heartache with dignity and composure, and stirring harmonies that draw from the Blue Notes, the Pips, the Impressions, and a thousand regional acts lost to time. Unlike Daptone, whose music is designed for the round-robin of a soul revue, Kings Go Forth make music specifically for the dancefloor.

Just in case you didn't buy it or didn't get out of your seat, Kings persuaded legendary producer Tom Moulton to mix this heartbreaker off their debut. Diddy's boasts aside, Moulton more or less did invent the remix, stretching out danceable singles to keep clubs and dancefloors packed. On "Don't Take My Shadow", he re-creates that scene so uncannily that the track might easily be mistaken for an obscure regional hit from 35 years ago. Obviously, the band has no interest in updating this sound to the 21st century, but they do prove that melodramatic strings, needling post-Shaft guitar licks, and a classy instrumental breakdown can still move us in 2010.

MP3:> Kings Go Forth: "Don't Take My Shadow"

[from The Outsiders Are Back; out 04/20/10 on Luaka Bop]

At 19, Kate Nash surfed a tide of MySpace enthusiasm to the top of the British charts. The young Londoner discovered her musical talents as she was discovering Lily Allen and Regina Spektor. Her new single, drawn from her soon-to-be-released second album, reveals new listening habits: riot grrrl and punk, Phil Spector and Motown. Now Nash's musical arsenal includes curdling shrieks, a sharp-fanged guitar, and wordless strands of ba-ba-ba's.

Whether you view this as a return flight-- it has something in common with first single "Caroline's a Victim"-- or a brave departure into darker places, "I Just Love You More" is destined to divide listeners. Fans of more recent Nash are accustomed to warmly impolite pop songs that set deadbeat lovers in their sights and pull the trigger. This will leave them cold and confused. Meanwhile, those inclined to punk fireworks may simply turn to Karen O-- the unglued genuine article.

Sewing these attitudes together, in short, is a dangerous move for Nash. But look past the wrong turns near the end and you'll find the blunt, lovelorn girl who charmed us three years ago. "I Just Love You More" startles with its union of vulnerability and vigor. In fact, the sentiment here-- a lusty declaration? an appeal for requited love? a parting shot?-- is thrillingly tough to pin down. The spooky, spiky riffs and slicing strings, her jungle howls and dazed refrains, impart the fury, at the song's burning climax, of a girl group scorned.

MP3:> Kate Nash: "I Just Love You More"

[from Crayon Full of Colour; out in the UK 04/19/10 on Fiction]

Tucked within the second half of Flying Lotus' 2008 Warp debut Los Angeles was "Parisian Goldfish", a banger in every sense of the word. Shape-shifting synths, oscillating bass, and one of the only backbeats in recent memory where the demand "More cowbell!" would be unnecessary. It's no wonder this ass-shaker would go on to inspire one of the most disgustingly awesome videos of the past decade. More importantly, "Parisian Goldfish" gave a glimpse of Steven Ellison's melodic gifts, and proved that his brand of glassy-eyed future-funk works just as well on the dancefloor as it does among black lights and bong rips.

"Computer Face//Pure Being", the first tease from FlyLo's eagerly awaited "cosmic drama" follow-up, Cosmogramma, turns the analog workout of "Parisian Goldfish" into a full-blown digital marathon. The IDM-infused breakbeat that kicks off the track initially seems locked within itself, but shimmering synth chords free it up, creating an immediately pleasurable tonal pile-on. The sound grows while blink-and-you'll-miss-'em sound effects move in and out of the mix, highlighting Ellison's strict attention to detail. Don't get too comfortable, though; FlyLo flips it back, stripping down to just the beat before reintroducing video-game chirps and spooked-out echoes, making way for the main theme to rip a hole in the sky.

[from Cosmogramma; out 05/04/10 on Warp]

Pangaea is part of what I call the Three H's: Hotflush, Hemlock, and Hessle-- UK dance labels leading the dubstep diaspora with bastard records that are a little leaner, faster, and funkier than what came before them. (In dance music, the difference of five beats per minute and one syncopated rhythm make can be enormous.) As a producer, Pangaea's not my favorite of the bunch, and "Why", which opens the EP he released on Hessle in January, isn't even my favorite track of his-- both "5-HTP" and "Neurons" are deeper and weirder. But "Why"-- like "Memories", which came out at the end of 2009-- follows a stock template (the the weeping diva singing from a a fictional alleyway), and in doing so, highlights elements that makes producers of the current moment different from 2007 or 2008: the hot, blaring organ; the stiff, broken beat; the clean lines of the percussion and the blurred chords floating in the background. True, it's hard to find any discernible Pangaea-ness in it. No radical fashions here. Still, I like it. He might not be planting flags, but he's got a hand in drawing the map.

[from Pangaea EP; out now on Hessle]

All the synthesizers in Manchester can't bring a smile to Archie Bronson Outfit. "Shark's Tooth", the first-single from the London-by-way-of-Wiltshire band's new album, Coconut, finds the trio swapping out its Cream-goes-post-punk riffs for glimmering new-wave radiance. The keyboards burble, the bass pulses, and vocalist/guitarist Sam Windett lets fly with some unabashed New Order homage. But the upbeat production-- courtesy of former DFA member Tim Goldsworthy-- can't hide the fact that ABO still has a bad case of the blues.

Windett's lyrics are frequently composed of Dada-style nonsense, but his weary delivery instills them with a shot of bad attitude. On "Shark's Tooth", Goldsworthy pours a rack of effects onto the vocals, but filters and delays do little to buoy Windett's spirits. In fact, the disco ball-spinning production just makes the singer sound even lonelier-- like a recent dumpee lost in a purgatorial come-down where Screamadelica plays on an endless loop and the streets are haunted by the spirit of Happy Mondays' Bez. Archie Bronson Outfit's sound may be skewing into clubbier realms, but one thing hasn't changed at all: It's still heavy.

MP3:> Archie Bronson Outfit: "Shark's Tooth"

[from Coconut; out 03/23/10 on Domino]

One of the more notable qualities of Diplo and Switch's debut as Major Lazer, Guns Don't Kill People-- Lazers Do, was the record's consistent floor-filling coherence. Almost to a fault, in fact: save for the much-loved "Keep It Goin' Louder", very little on Guns Don't Kill People carried the same impact when removed from the record's pirate-radio flow. A few tracks gained minor notoriety via meme-making videos ("Pon De Floor"), Santigold cameos ("Hold the Line"), or an after-the-fact M.I.A.-assisted remix ("Baby"), but deep cuts like "Cash Flow" and "What U Like" were lost in the fray.

So it's understandable to approach "Sound of Siren", the opening track off of Major Lazer's forthcoming Lazers Never Die EP, featuring guest turns by M.I.A. and dancehall spitter Busy Signal, with some trepidation as a standalone track. The colorful stabs of melody that abruptly close out the track signify that this is part of a seamless mix, lending it an unfinished feel. Nevertheless, anyone who bumped Guns Don't Kill People will find enough to enjoy here, as a towering drum beat gives "Sound of Siren" a 12-alarm urgency, with a wobbly low end keeping things appropriately blunted.

Those coming for the same kind of fire that M.I.A. spit on the aforementioned remix of "Baby", however, will be disappointed; Maya is relegated to hook status here, and while she puts in her best effort with vocal modulations, nicely mimicking the near-ubiquitous siren sound effects throughout the song, Busy Signal's rapid-fire delivery and booming voice dominates. Which would be fine, if he had something to say; instead, he drops non-mots ("We all gettin' money like a damn disease") and points out the obvious ("Police do power trip like some insects.") So the best approach, then, is to tune out the lyrics, dance to the beat, and wait for the next song.

[from the Lazers Never Die EP; out in April on Downtown/Mad Decent]