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Brooklyn's Crystal Stilts filter trembling surf guitar and tambourine shakes through echoing chambers of effects until their wistful, barely-there tunes seem to dramatically float out of murky, cavernous depths. The eerie centerpiece is singer Brad Hargett's off-key mumble, which glides through buoyant anthems ("Prismatic Room," "Shattered

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T-Pain presents himself as the ringmaster of the music-industry circus -- we're just here to be amazed by his lyrics, his production, his elemental force. Yet on his third album, he constantly relies on petty one-liners, banal choruses, and (surprise!) Auto-Tune overkill.

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Just eight months after releasing their first full-length, Hold on Now, Youngster..., these Welsh indie poppers come bounding back with another album that's as melodramatic as a teen love letter. This time, though, the scrawl is a bit neater.

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For sheer dance-floor energy and disco kinks, ex-!!! percussionist John Pugh and fashion designer/vocalist Madeline Davy (boosted by secret-weapon production duo the Brothers) don't disappoint. But they seem less confident introducing more distinctive elements into the flow on their debut, which features six original songs and five remixes.

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This is the third time these brash Los Angeles bombers have released an album titled The Bronx, but don't think they're scraping the bottom of their metallic punk recycling bin: Here they dial down the Black Flag–derived chaos of The Bronx (I) and (II), unleashing sharper melodies and boogie rhythms that Axl Rose might've admired before getting cornrows.

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The moniker of this hip-hop production duo -- who have worked with MCs ranging from Jean Grae to various Wu-Tang and Hieroglyphics affiliates -- sounds far more menacing and dramatic than their music, especially on this subdued collaboration with vocalist Yes Alexander.