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Mark Oliver Everett takes his latest album title quite literally, unleashing predatory howls over distortion-ridden stompers like "Fresh Blood," only to awake as an innocent mensch. The gentler E distances himself from his lycanthropic alter ego, searching for Ms. Right backed by a familiar arsenal of winsome melodies and elegant string arrangements.

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On their fourth album, this Scottish indie-pop band's fondness for woeful heartache and Phil Spector–esque production reaches a poignant peak. Even over the cheery layers of strings, guitar, and tambourine on "French Navy," Tracyanne Campbell sings about romance gone wrong.

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Since recording the seven-second "Cheney" (only lyric: "Stop being such a dick!") in 2005, these Englishmen have learned impulse control. Frontman Eamon Hamilton's playful yelp has given way to a sturdier sound, evident in the energetic riffs of interstellar love song "Don't Take Me to Space (Man)," the anthemic power-pop hooks of "Hey Hey," and the lush shoegaze drone of "Oh!

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Having spent the last few years on acoustic solo work, Emily Haines sounds eager to get back to the club with these nightlife tales chronicling obsessed groupies, lonely hearts, and dissatisfied hedonists.

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Among this Norwegian pop rocker's many endearing attributes is her total lack of interest in consistently singing pretty. Her debut is full of rasps and howls, from the raw, frenetic power of the U.K.

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Like most bands that shape songs around wisecracks, this trio used up their best gags on their debut (2007's charming Bernard Butler–produced Cookies).