MF Grimm, 'American Hunger' (Day By Day)

A rapper who's taken almost as many bullets as 50 Cent!

MF Grimm has reason to be hungry. In the early '90s, when his first career took off, the Manhattan MC was shot seven times, leaving him paralyzed, blind, and in a wheelchair. He later partnered with MF Doom until a bitter falling out. Then, a drug charge put him in prison.

Klee, 'Honeysuckle' (Minty Fresh)

German pop-rockers miss that certain melodic something.

Klee is a trio (vocals, keyboards, and guitar) who write basic, efficient songs and fit them to a workmanlike variety of musical settings: disco rock ("Gold"), low-lit new wave ("As Long as You Live"), and especially jangle pop ("This Is for Everyone"). A few of them are even presented in both English and German.

Mouse on Mars, 'Varcharz' (Ipecac)

German producers gently tweak dance music's edges.

This duo's tenth album is a masterful blend of electronic genres, pulling from older works like their more ambient 1994 debut, Vulvaland, and gleaning the best from recent forays into glitchy vocal house (2004's Radical Connector).

Junior Boys, 'So This Is Goodbye' (Domino)

Canadian synth-poppers drift off into tedium.

Once upon a time, it seemed like Junior Boys were poised to swipe the Postal Service's emotronica demographic -- they brooded harder and had better beats. But for this second album, lead weeper Jeremy Greenspan received no rhythmic contributions from former partner Johnny Dark, and it shows.

Pigeon John, 'Pigeon John...And the Summertime Pool Party' (Quannum)

Good-times hip-hop from college-rock nostalgic.

Backpack rap gets caricatured as hip-hop for alt-rock fans, but this affable Los Angeles MC literalizes the connection, biting left-field grooves from R.E.M. and Pixies. Pigeon John specializes in the same laidback slice-of-life observations as his Cali counterparts Blackalicious and Lyrics Born, but he's funnier and more self-effacing.

Ludacris, 'Release Therapy' (DTP)

The mouth of the South questions his blessed life.

Last year millions of people took Crash's message of racial understanding through coincidence to heart, but Ludacris, one of that Oscar-winning film's many stars, was not among them. Release Therapy, his fifth album, sees the usually ebullient Atlanta MC/actor/label boss throwing 'bows not in the club but rather in his analyst's office.

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