Mr. Lif, 'I Heard It Today' (Bloodbot Tactical)

Savvy MC prescribes beats, hope, and weed.

Chuck D famously called rap the CNN of black America, but Mr. Lif wants to remake it as CNBC. The Boston rapper's latest is a quasi concept album dedicated to the current financial crisis -- think It Takes a Nation of Bankers to Hold Us Back.

Evil Nine, 'They Live!' (Marine Parade)

British beat junkies' lively symphony for the undead.

Concept albums can be dicey, but this Brighton, England electro duo negotiate the terrain smartly, crafting the most appealing musical ode to zombies since Thriller. The Underworld­-ish "Feed on You" and horror­-movie march "How Do We Stop the Normals?" set the spooky tone amid ever­-present washes of minor­-key synths.

Black Lips, '200 Million Thousand' (Vice)

Garage poppers do stupid, messy, brilliant things.

Across four albums, Black Lips have made sloppiness an aesthetic choice. Their live shows have the feel of a bunch of blitzed teenagers spazzing out on borrowed instruments in a friend's basement. Their records sound like extended pranks. But amateurish charm grows tedious, even when delivered with the balls-out energy this quartet routinely generates.

M. Ward, 'Hold Time' (Merge)

Crafty arrangements overcome post-nasal drip.

Matt Ward's playful leads and warm, insistent strum make him the rare indie-rock guitarist with an instantly recognizable style. His voice is also distinctive, though more for its limitations: He sings like he's got a stuffy nose and a throat full of sawdust. It's to Ward's credit that he knows exactly what to do with both instruments.

Jason Isbell & The 400 Unit, 'Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit' (Lightning Rod)

Ex-trucker wades through doomed romance, booze.

Southern rock is a minefield of rebel flags, drinking songs, and dudes yelling "Free Bird!" With Drive-By Truckers, singer-guitarist Jason Isbell learned to embrace some of those clichés; on his gritty, vibrant second solo album, he begins to transcend them.

Living Things, 'Habeas Corpus' (Jive)

St. Louis punks offer short respite from machine-raging.

In 2005, Living Things' debut album, Ahead of the Lions, felt like a cathartic call to arms for a war-weary country that had sold its soul. Now America's problems are even more dire, but its mood has changed. As such, the strength of this follow-up is not the defiant antiestablishment fist-pumping (though there's plenty), but the tunes.

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