SOUNDCHECK

Nine Inch Nails


Year Zero

(4 stars)

The guerrilla marketing campaign for Nine Inch Nails' Year Zero has been so extensive, mysterious and all-encompassing that the album arriving in stores this week seems almost like an afterthought. The network of websites and flash drives left in bathrooms at concerts (yes, really) that dropped hints about the concept album's totalitarian future world was complicated and creepy, but if you listen to the music itself without any knowledge of the storyline (already rumored to be in development for a film), you won't necessarily notice anything other than a very good new Nine Inch Nails album.

Gone for the most part are the live drums of 2005's With Teeth, as is its concise, direct and poppy approach. Instead, Year Zero is nearly as sprawling as NIN mastermind Trent Reznor's 1994 megahit The Downward Spiral or its double-disc 1999 follow-up, The Fragile. And if the songs alone don't actually tell the story that all of the supplementary material has built up, they do sound like a damn good soundtrack for it. On "Capital G," Reznor affects the thick tone of a simpleton to sing from the perspective of someone who's given up on individuality and embraced mindless conformity. Elsewhere, the electronic elements of his music are more pronounced than they've been since Spiral, perfectly evoking the cold, not-so-distant future; at the end of "The Great Destroyer," it sounds like Reznor just set the synth on "freakout" and walked away.

But a freakout is exactly what's called for here, and even though there are definite hooks to be found on "Survivalism" and "The Good Soldier" and "Meet Your Master," they are all in service of Reznor's anger, directed for once more outward than inward, at our current political climate as filtered through the album's sci-fi future. Musically, this is as good as anything Reznor's done since Spiral; as a unified project, it feels like he's finally found something worth shouting about again. –

Timbaland


Shock Value

(2 stars)

This was the worst possible time for Timbaland to step into the spotlight with a solo album. Having ruled the hip-hop and R&B airwaves for a decade, he's coming off his biggest pop success to date, with the one-two punch of last year's Nelly Furtado/Justin Timberlake releases. No way was he not going to raise expectations to an absurd degree. Anything less than a mind-altering reinvention of modern music wasn't going to cut it.

Shock Value fails to scale such heights, of course, but even making some allowances for unreasonable expectations, it's a dispiriting release. A star-studded project (with a lineup that includes 50 Cent, Fall Out Boy and Elton John), the album fails to cohere, and too many of the songs feel like ideas tacked on to beats, while some of the beats themselves are rehashes of earlier glories (there are two "SexyBack" rips here, for instance).

The first single, "Give it to Me," featuring Furtado and Timberlake, is fine, but the funnest things here are the opening and closing tracks, and they're both throwaways. "Oh Timbaland," an ode to Timbaland, by Timbaland, is stutter-beat horror-movie genius with a slice of Nina Simone in the chorus. "2 Man Show" has the producer talking nonsense over grandiose orchestration and loopy piano runs by Elton John ("C'mon, Elton, break it down!"). Everything in between these tracks tries just a bit too hard to light a spark.

Avril Lavigne


The Best Damn Thing

(3 1/2 stars)

It's easy to make fun of Avril—the tie 'n' wifebeater, the sk8er boi, the punk rawk 'tude. So why'd she have to go and make things so complicated by showcasing legit musical chops?

Preconceptions mar her, but Avril deserves credit. On The Best Damn Thing, she parades screamy, shrieky expletive-laden tracks that could be pop releases from Bratmobile. Don't get me wrong—she's not a bastion of innovation, but the girl has her share of songwriting skills. If she stripped her choruses of top-40 placation, went undercover and exerted a Kill Rock Stars effort, she could be taken seriously.

Don't bother exorcising Avril's infectious single "Girlfriend" from your mind; she continues her anthemic assault with "I Can Do Better" and "Runaway" and a belt that's comparable to Kelly Clarkson on "Since U Been Gone." On the bitterly gleeful and genre-blending title track, Avril tries her tongue at hip-talk à la "Hollaback Girl" and a chorus that reeks of old-school Blink-182. The album's highlight, "Everything Back But You," mirrors a legit neo-punk song: fast, ruthless, percussive and loud.

From a 12-song album, there are three lowlights, and they're all ballads. Although they're fair enough pop efforts, nobody's throwing on an Avril CD to get in touch with their emotions.

Kings of Leon


Because of the Times

(3 1/2 stars)

There's nothing like touring with Bob Dylan and Pearl Jam to make a promising band snap to, and with their third album, the Southern rockers hone their droning chaos into a more eclectic yet far more refined follow-up to 2005's Aha Shake Heartbreak.

Opener "Knocked Up" is the Followill Foursome's biggest accomplishment to date; a sprawling, solemn tale of a rebellious couple dealing with the consequences of carefree living. Elsewhere there's the shrieking garage punk of "Charmer," the stuttering neuroticism of "McFearless" and psychedelic raver "My Party." Jam-packed with exploding guitars and naïve optimism, the collection slow-boils with stubborn, youthful urgency that refuses to acknowledge the crashing reality awaiting just down the road. Girls and God play leading roles, but increasingly, so do fighting, drinking, hoarse pleas for understanding and mounting frustration. The protagonists are all trapped in an inescapable world of physical and emotional compromise; they just don't know it yet.

Kings of Leon still sound like they spend their days camped out with a cooler on the front porch. But instead of kicking back with half-closed eyes, Times sees them leaning forward in those same chairs, alert, proud and practically begging for a loose storm window or worn-out shingle to tackle.

Bill Callahan


Woke on a Whaleheart

(3 stars)

How ironic that when Bill Callahan finally lifts his veil of Smog—his perfectly band-worthy solo moniker these past 19 years—to release an album under his own name, it winds up sounding more like a group effort than any of his past projects. It's as if our bleak lo-fi-loving hermit has suddenly stepped into the sun, embracing colors heretofore beyond the borders of his dusky cave.

In part, the metamorphosis can be attributed to (or blamed on, depending how Woke on a Whaleheart hits you) ex-Pussy Galore/Royal Trux guitarist Neil Hagerty, credited with arranging and co-producing the disc's nine tracks. Also in the fold: a violinist, a gospel vocalist and a frisky electric guitarist, all of which adds up to a most un-Smog-like effort from Señor Smog.

At times, the new components overrun his primary attraction—dryly told, peculiarly perceptive musings like "We got in the river and it groped us/Made us think of sex between us"—either by distracting from the lyrics ("Footprints") or threatening to drown them out ("Day"). When music and vocals commingle, as on standout cuts "From the Rivers to the Ocean" and "Sycamore," however, Woke works, so much so that you'll wonder what took Callahan so long to loose this full-bodied side of himself.