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"This is hip-hop for the people," says Sage Francis early on his fourth album. "Stop calling it emo." Stop bellyaching and maybe we will.

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The last time Rufus Wainwright walked into a recording studio, it was with a 50-piece orchestra and enough hooks for a pretty great EP. Unfortunately, he left with a double album's worth of material (released in two parts as the critically tolerated Want series, from 2003 and 2004).

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Page France's handcrafted folk pop pushes awfully hard to be quaint. Between the coy vocals of leader Michael Nau and some overly delicate playing -- note the repeated use of bells -- this Maryland quartet's third album has a tendency to bog down in preciousness.

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Imagine Air's "Sexy Boy" played in a dingy shack for 45 minutes straight by fashion-unconscious 'shroom enthusiasts with a psych-rock fetish, and you've got a peek into Dandelion Gum.

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Zoos haven't been cool since Paul Simon called giraffes "insincere" in the late '60s, yet Mystery Jets make a helluva case for them on this British family band's debut album. In fact, somewhere between the first and 85th time they scream "Zootime!" in the title track, they whip up a raucous mess of thudding bass drum, Exocet guitar screech, and glorious exuberance.

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Since 1999, this Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet has been trying to fuse poetic lyrics, cinematic pull, and nervy, restless rock in a singular way. And on their fourth album, they finally ful-fill those ambitions, adding brass, piano, and backup singers to unveil high drama of the blunt, unclichéd sort unheard since the Afghan Whigs' '90s heyday.