The Dead C, 'Future Artists' (Ba Da Bing!)

Eternally cranky Kiwi punks prefer noise over pop.

From the late '80s into the 90s, this clamorous, lo-fi New Zealand trio flailed agains the country's thriving indie-pop scene (centered on the Flying Nun label), occasionally creating an outright squalid masterpiece like 1995's White House. They've not budged an iota since, as the cheekily titled Future Artists attests.

The Icarus Line, 'Black Lives at the Golden Coast'

Wild boys shift focus from club-trashing to songwriting.

These Los Angeles noise-punk brats built their rep by electrifying (and infuriating) audiences at their self-consciously chaotic shows, the wildest of which got the group banned from venues in Austin and Hollywood.

Crowded House, 'Time on Earth' (ATO)

Australian pop legends still have the melodic skills.

Midway through the sessions for a solo album, Neil Finn rang up some old mates.

T.I., 'T.I. vs. T.I.P.' (Grand Hustle/ Atlantic)

King of the South trades rhymes with his evil twin.

All is not well in the trap. Clifford "T.I." Harris, the Southern MC who ruled the rap airwaves last year with his fourth album, King, is at war with his alter ego, T.I.P. The personae represent two stages of his career: the lyrical smoothie dancing alongside Justin Timberlake on "My Love" and the hardened young thug from Atlanta's rough Bankhead neighborhood.

1990s, 'Cookies' (World's Fair/ Rough Trade)

Swaggering and winking, Scottish punks rip it up.

On their debut LP, this trio led by singer/songwriter Jackie McKeown and bassist Jamie McMorrow -- who played in late-'90s indie band Yummy Fur with Franz Ferdinand's Alex Kapranos and Paul Thomson -- trade their former group's spazzed-out sonics for taut, trashy ditties that mix '70s proto-punk and skippy '50s ooh-las.

The Cinematic Orchestra, 'Ma Fleur' (Domino)

Electronic auteur returns with a more melancholy tableau.

Five years after their last full studio record, multi-instrumentalist Jason Swinscoe's Cinematic Orchestra return with a stylish soundtrack to an (as yet) unmade film. Unlike the late-night jazz that defined the band's earlier tracks, Ma Fleur's atmospheric, moody songs and down-tempo arrangements are devoted more to Radiohead-worthy mopinesss than to snazzy chops.

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