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If Activision ever issues an indie-rock edition of Guitar Hero, Windsor for the Derby should be the house band.

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Running Jeff Tweedy's rasp through power-chord guitar fuzz should be a can't-miss career move; and with Wilco "maturing," Toronto's Constantines are trying to ease into that niche. At least that seems to be the theory. In practice, Kensington Heights is a mixed bag of aesthetically correct placeholders: "Our Age" and "Life or Death" offer twangy verses but no payoff hooks.

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Legions of Kraftwerk wannabes miss the band's secret weapon: From their man-machine fashion to their preference for dinky beats, the self-described showroom dummies could always tease out a good joke. And although they're purely instrumentalists, Matmos can too, with a charm that sets the laptop duo apart from lesser lights for whom chilly beats and icy synths are ends in themselves.

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The Ruby Suns' ringleader, Ryan McPhun, is an expat in more ways than one. Not only did the guy ditch California for New Zealand, he's also shaken off the shackles of traditional songwriting: Sea Lion's ten genre-spanning tracks run from percolating synth pop ("Morning Sun") to crunchy granola sing-alongs ("Adventure Tour") to ramshackle Brian Wilson tributes ("There Are Birds").

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Concept albums are synonymous with excess: For every masterwork like Tommy or Styx's Kilroy Was Here (no, really), three bombastic epics bludgeon you into a stupor. Cases in point: The Smashing Pumpkins' Machina/The Machines of God, the fourth side of The Wall, and the entire Jethro Tull catalog.

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Prefer Fountains of Wayne circa Utopia Parkway? Tired of waiting for the Rentals' follow-up to Seven More Minutes? Laced with brainy raps, cooing backing vocals, and a keen attention to melancholy melodic detail, Why?