Jamey Johnson, 'That Lonesome Song' (Mercury)

Gruff-voiced storyteller gives hellacious tour of hard life.

Opening with clanking prison doors, then taking off with "High Cost of Living," a nearly six-minute, drugs-nullifying-life drone that's as close as 2008 will get to its own "Heroin," this honky-tonkin' ex-Marine's first album since Sony booted him turns a cracked mirror on Nashville triumphalism.

Little Jackie, 'The Stoop' (S-Curve)

Still trying to be the next Neneh Cherry -- ten years later.

A decade since buffalo-stanced single "Legend of a Cowgirl" earned her momentary fame, Imani Coppola resurfaces (with help from DJ/programmer Adam Pallin and producer Michael Mangini) in a group named after an old Lisa Lisa track.

Lil Mama, 'Voice of the Young People' (Jive/Zomba)

Hip-hop's dazzling girl wonder tries to grow up fast.

Originally planned for release last September, this 18-yearold Brooklyn fireball's debut album follows a year-long string of singles and semi-singles.

Hayes Carll, 'Trouble in Mind' (Lost Highway)

If you're looking for a breezier Steve Earle, you could do worse.

This Texas coaster covers plenty of bases on his third album, many of them alcoholic, and the tastiest perched between stadium rockabilly and Dylan-worship folk rock. Whether he's feeling nostalgic for small-town foibles or fancying himself a drunken poet knockin' over whiskeys with his bad liver and broken heart, he's cornier than he thinks.

Ministry and Co-Conspirators, 'Cover Up' (13th Planet/Megaforce)

Posse of industrial toastmasters ironically rev up their hogs.

Al Jourgenson and his Prong/ Revolting Cocks/etc. buddies have excellent taste in classic-rock hits. Here, they cover a steaming pile, from ZZ Top and Mountain to T. Rex and Ram Jam, occasionally locating some proto-industrial locomotion in the originals' buffalo-burger beat.

Meat Beat Manifesto, 'Autoimmune' (Metropolis)

Kitchen-sink beat innovator offers up another deep-dub massage.

Jack Dangers' industrial-identified ensemble was dipping deadpan samples into the deepest dub years before post-rock indie bands and post-jungle dance subgenres caught up. And on their 12th album, Meat Beat's bottom end still holds weight.

Syndicate content