Jack White — Blunderbuss (Third Man Records / Columbia)

The White Stripes. The Raconteurs. The Dead Weather. I suppose it was just a matter of time until Jack White got around to a solo release. It would be understandable if you have White fatigue—all those bands, all that blues riffing—but you’d be missing something if you skipped out on Blunderbuss, the best thing he’s put his name on since White Blood Cells in 2001. The rock is solid here—from the crunch and burn of the raging “Sixteen Saltines” to the boogie woogie of “Trash Tongue Talker” to “Freedom at 21’s” motor-mouthed thrash—but there are plenty of other shadings as well. Opener “Missing Pieces” is an easy-rolling dissection of the love’s end. “Hypocritical Kiss” is a mid-tempo ballad better than anything on Coldplay’s latest. And “On and On and On” is an ambient piece of pseudo-trip-hop, the likes of which White has never gone near in the past. Though he hits all the highs of his past catalogue, he’s also stretching out in new and surprising ways. He may be the poster child for roots rock authenticity, but he’s also a 21st century man who cherry-picks the best from many genres to make them his own. —Dan Loughry

Father John Misty — Fear Fun (Sub Pop)

J. Tillman left Fleet Foxes recently to concentrate on his solo career under his own name and, now, the nom de plume of Father John Misty. We don’t know what occasioned the change—either from a relatively lucrative day gig or to the new recording name—but Fear Fun, Father John Misty’s debut, is both better than any of the previous Tillman solo releases or (blasphemy, I know!) either of Fleet Foxes’ official albums. The 12 songs of this debut are the simplest sort of singer-songwriter stuff, steeped in the organic sounds of the ‘70s and slathered with gorgeous harmonizing background vocals, etc. Yet where Fleet Foxes always sound like they are trying so damn hard to replicate what they love from their forebears, Tillman as Misty gets his effects without, it seems, breaking a sweat. From the desperate end-times of the ingratiating single “Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings” to the bouncy (religious) love song “Every Man Needs a Companion,” Tillman translates Ryan Adams circa Gold into a new beardo template. If there were still AM pop radio, most of these tunes would find a good home. As it stands, they’ll need to make their way to your iPod, and soon. —Dan Loughry

Morten Harket — Out Of My Hands (Universal)

The name Morten Harket may not be familiar to you, but in his home of Norway, he’s a household name. Here in America, we know Harket as the lead singer of ‘80s one-hit-wonders a-Ha. Things haven’t changed much for Morten Harket. He still has those killer cheekbones he put on display in the “Take On Me” video back in 1983. He’s also still got that voice—he’s still able to seamlessly transition into his trademark falsetto, and he still surrounds it with swirling synths. Out Of My Hands is Harket’s third English language pop album (he has two others in his native tongue) and unfortunately it’s also his most tired. The album opens with “Scared of Heights,” which unfortunately sounds like a Limahl track (look him up) with its treacly synths and simple melody. Things pick up with “Keep The Sun Away,” which has a great chorus, but is unfortunately produced. Lead single “Lightning” sounds like a later a-Ha track—not terrible, but its quasi-inspirational chorus just doesn’t work. This album is pure ‘80s. In the mid-’90s, when a-Ha were out of fashion, they experimented with folk, rock, guitars—they expanded their horizons. Harket’s 1995 solo album Wild Seed still sounds fresh. His voice is as strong as ever, but the dated songwriting and arrangements betray him. What a disappointment. —Dominik Rothbard

Mystery Jets — Radlands (Rough Trade)

Mystery Jets’ fourth and most difficult album opens with the title track “Radlands.” It’s a sprawling mountain of a song—twists and turns, frustratingly catchy melodies, obscured by layers of guitars and fuzz. This is new territory for the Jets, who previously recorded all of their albums on the tiny, underpopulated Eel Pie Island, located in the River Thames. Radlands was recorded exclusively in Austin, Texas, and that city’s imprint is all over this record. This is the first Mystery Jets LP without an immediate single. In many ways, it’s their OK Computer. A look at Americana through outsiders’ eyes. The result is rather beautiful, albeit the album is quite a ‘grower.’ “You Had Me At Hello” is probably the most immediate track, but it’s miles away from the catchy heights of “Young Love” or “Two Doors Down.” This could almost be a different band if not for lead vocalist Blane Harrison’s hauntingly inimitable voice. Radlands is not, however, without it’s missteps. “Greatest Hits” name-checks several albums, being divided after a break-up. It’s a cute idea, but its faux-‘70s MOR melody doesn’t suit the band, and its obvious chorus is cringe-inducing. Similarly, “The Hale Bop” is a skipper. The album picks up with the six-minute-plus “Lost in Austin” and the epic “Tell Me Where the Roses Go.” The album closes appropriately with “Luminescence,” a fittingly somber track to end the band’s most mature—if not rewarding—album to date. —Dominik Rothbard

Plushgun — Me.Me. (Ministry Of Sound)

The Brooklyn New Wave/Synthpop trio Plushgun released their debut Pins & Panzers in 2009. Their sprightly sound brought them some critical success, but the album was decidedly lightweight and didn’t make much of an impact. Three years later, Plushgun have returned, seemingly intent on changing that. Gone are subtle elements which held the band back (juvenile lyrics, an over-reliance on synthesizers) and they’ve been replaced with the addition of a full-time guitarist (Taylor Armstrong—no, not that one) who instantly becomes an asset on Me.Me. Thankfully, the band has retained all its best qualities. Shimmering atmospherics, choruses that go on for days—Me.Me. is an album that demands attention. The album opens with the one-two punch of lead singles “Waste Away” and “I Like It.” Both songs retain the energy of the band’s previous successes while adding the punch of crunchy guitars and distortion. This is slightly misleading, though, as the album also features several radio-friendly ballads. The theme of this album is fun—and heartbreak—but mostly fun. “Love In Binary” is a solemn standout, with an incredible synth-driven hook. But the track here that must be heard is “Mixtapes.” An absolute masterpiece about the songs that haunt and soundtrack our lives. Seek this gem out. —Dominik Rothbard

Sigur Rós — Valtari (XL Recordings)

The opening few minutes to Sigur Rós’s sixth release, Valtari, sound like whales rutting in an ocean of molasses. In other words, it is business as usual for the lugubriously ambient Icelanders, which is both a very good thing and, truth be told, a very bad one as well. If you love the entire gestalt of Sigur Rós—the glacial pacing, the ethereally hair-raising falsetto of lead singer Jónsi Birgisson, the guitars posing as violins, the high holy church of it all—Valtari will not disappoint you. There is much beauty here. Jónsi’s pining vocal alone on “Varú” is a delicate marvel (followed, in the same song, by a dissonant cascade of cacophony). And that whale-rutting opener “Ég Anda” sets a consistent tone for the album as a whole. But after the pop outreach of 2008’s Me∂ su∂ I eyrum vi∂ spilum endalaust, this is a retreat into a way of working they could do in their sleep. Beautiful as it is, there’s laziness in the overt familiarity of it all. (As is the announcement that they are playing the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in August. I mean, how completely apt and unsurprising.) Valtari marks the moment when Sigur Rós begins to repeat itself into infinity. —Dan Loughry