Mogwai, 'The Hawk Is Howling' (Matador)

The only seriously epic rock that doesn't take itself too seriously.

Have these once-deafening, instrumental Scots finally returned to the Imax guitar-rock dynamics that made them one of the most egregiously ripped-off underground bands of the past ten years?

Randy Newman, 'Harps and Angels' (Nonesuch)

America's bitterest librettist laces bon mots with razors.

He's still way too fond of show-tune orchestration, and then there's the tossed-off corny stuff, but the orneriness of Newman's now-64-year-old wit makes George Carlin seem like Dane Cook.

Made Out of Babies, 'The Ruiner' (The End)

A Brooklyn zoo of bad/good vibes and guitar strangulation.

With her classic death-rock seethe, singer Julie Christmas is the perfect siren for folks who have lots of playlists labeled "heavy," but Made Out of Babies owe more to '90s noise punk (the Jesus Lizard, Rapeman) than primal metal urges such as Slayer or even Sabbath.

Lykke Li, 'Youth Novels' (LL)

Swedish elf eschews dancing queendom for minimalist throb.

The endlessly quotable single "Little Bit" -- "For you I keep my legs apart / And forget about my tainted heart," the singer coos over spare electro clatter -- is already a viral smash, but much of Li Lykke Timotej Zachrisson's debut is nearly as riveting. Again and again, the approach proves bulletproof: Her voice is mousy, the low end juicy, the melodies sketchy, the choruses huge.

Torche, 'Meanderthal (Hydra Head)

Artful Miami brutes become new queens of the stone age.

Maybe it's the bunker-thick wall of sludge, maybe it's the doomy undertow, or maybe it's the hair-farming guitar whiz and gay frontman (peace to Judas Priest), but Torche aren't really a metal band, certainly not the pleasureless Ozzfest kind, not with riffs this gloriously anthemic. "Meanderthal" is guitar pop for those who wish Foo Fighters had a pre-sellout period.

Rose Hill Drive, 'Moon Is the New Earth' (Megaforce)

Have probably heard "Dude, can you play 'Slow Ride'?" a lot.

A power trio as an experiment in Skinner-box songcraft: Tell two brothers and a pal that culture ended in 1973 and then record the results. So you've got meaty hard rock that can jam with Bonnaroo and thrash with Warped. They love their "Trans Am" sans irony (because who doesn't?), which means swing and torque are everything.

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