New Recordings

Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes

(Epitaph ***1/2)

nolead ends Times may have changed, but not Social Distortion (in sound if not in personnel). "I'll be here to the bitter end/ And I'm here to make my stand/ With my guitar in my hand," gravel-voiced front man and Social D. constant Mike Ness declares on "Still Alive," as the band concludes the album with one final blazing rocker.

That steadfastness has served the veteran Southern California band well. Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes shows there's still plenty of juice in Social Distortion's guitar-driven attack. And also in Ness' persona as a bruised and battered survivor. Maybe that's because he knows how to balance the punkish edge of the music with a clear-eyed adult perspective that goes beyond the hard-boiled veneer to reveal some tenderness and even vulnerability - both in his own songs and in the way he connects to the past. The only non-original is Hank Williams' "Alone and Forsaken" - rocked up, of course, but still as desolate as the title indicates. Meanwhile, "Bakersfield" includes a pleading recitation addressed to the singer's faraway woman that could have come straight out of a vintage soul song.

- Nick Cristiano

nolead begins Cold War Kids
nolead ends nolead begins Mine Is Yours
nolead ends nolead begins (Downtown **1/2)

nolead ends It's undeniable: The word sellout is a cliche. But like all truly pervasive cliches, it has its uses.

So yes, you could argue, as many already have, that Mine Is Yours is when Cold War Kids sell out. When the prickly, quirky nerds of yore trade their riffs for spacious anthems. Call it the Kings of Leon effect.

Now, that's not the whole story - but it's most of it. Truth be told, Mine Is Yours is a perfectly adequate indie pastiche that never quite connects.

From the charged "Royal Blue" to the echoing title track, it's clear that the band behind the brilliant Robbers & Cowards is trying for something more accessible. But in that attempt, they come up with little more than a slick, overproduced effort that will please many and amaze none.

- Emily Tartanella

nolead begins Amanda Palmer
nolead ends nolead begins Amanda Palmer Goes
Down Under
nolead ends nolead begins (Liberator ***1/2)

nolead ends Since her hiatus from cabaret-punk's Dresden Dolls, happily histrionic chanteuse/pianist Amanda Palmer has worked hard at independence. Fans celebrate her fight (and victory) to get released from Roadrunner after the label sought to pull scenes from a Palmer video because (in her words) they thought she looked fat. Since then, the theatrical melodist and pointedly literate lyricist has seemed freer still, recording oddities such as an EP of Radiohead hits on ukulele, as well this new tribute to things antipodean.

It might seem self-indulgent, an album of Aussie covers (a rendition of Nick Cave's "The Ship Song" is more dramatic than its author's) and Palmer songs written about (or while in) Australia, New Zealand, and Tasmania. But self-indulgence is the point. As an unchecked id, Palmer is a marvel. Her strong, achy-breaky trill makes her tour-guide songs lusty and her paeans to Vegemite (the yeast-extract spread so unaccountably beloved by Australians) bracing. The electro-glam "Map of Tasmania" is full of silly, sexy double entendres, and "In My Mind" (featuring DD partner Brian Viglione) sounds like a promise that the next Dresden Dolls effort will be slyer and more emotive than anything in the duo's past.

- A.D. Amorosi

nolead begins Monotonix
nolead ends nolead begins Not Yet
nolead ends nolead begins (Drag City **1/2)

nolead ends The reverbed guitar chords that open Monotonix's second full-length album are aggressive, dirty, and loud. Just like their last album and just like their live shows - after all, the Israeli rock trio is famous not for consummate musicianship, but for off-the-wall, bombastic, raucous performances. That's where the problem lies. Monotonix's music embodies '90s punk and garage without apology, while pulling in elements from the Buzzcocks, the Ramones, U.S. Maple, and Royal Trux. Not Yet is a solid album, 32 minutes of catchy, energetic songs with never-ending caterwauls, dominating drum beats, and spastic cymbal crashes. But albums are just not this band's forte. Despite the visceral energy, passionate playing, and enjoyable tunes, neither Not Yet nor the band's earlier releases can live up to their live zeal, engagement, and madness.

- Katherine Silkaitis

One for the Dance Halls

(Stag ***1/2)

nolead ends As we've noted before, Jesse Dayton is the most dynamic country-rocker to come out of Texas since Joe Ely. Most recently, he was heard in the guise of Captain Clegg and the Night Creatures in Rob Zombie's Halloween 2, as he and his band performed hilariously cheesy original rockers like "Zombie A Go Go." With his new album, however, Dayton is at his countriest, and again showing why he deserves wider recognition.

One for the Dance Halls is just that - music designed to get people out of their seats. The title song sets the tone: It's a brisk shuffle with vintage echoes but fresh energy, punctuated by fiddle, steel, and piano. Dayton also romps through "Camden Town" (getting in a mention of Joe Strummer) and reunites with Brennen Leigh, with whom he cut an album of classic-sounding country duets, for "Back to Back." The pace slows a couple of times - for a countrified take on Nick Lowe's "Lately I've Let Things Slide" and Damon Bramblett's waltzlike "The Years." Fittingly, however, Dayton goes out blazing with the chugging twang of "Texas Bound."

- Nick Cristiano

Israeli Song

(Anzic ***1/2)

nolead ends Saxophonist Eli Degibri is easily the least known of this quartet. But that should change. Degibri, who came up through the traditional route of Israeli jazz players - via a stint at Boston's Berklee School of Music - is a bewitching fellow who shows impressive chops, as both a player and a composer, here on his fifth recording.

His set with pianist Brad Mehldau, bassist Ron Carter, and drummer Al Foster comes out rich in ambience and storytelling. Degibri plays both tenor and soprano with serious zest.

Degibri also composed six of the 11 tunes, and they score. "Liora" is one gorgeous tune, even in its wordless state, while the title track is full of yearning and beauty. "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" gets a simple duet treatment with Carter, although there's nothing simple about the heights reached.

- Karl Stark

David Fray, piano; Philharmonia Orchestra, Jaap van Zweden conducting

(Virgin ****)

nolead ends Only weeks into the new year comes this Mozart concerto disc that's bound to make the most stringent best-of-2011 list and easily stands alongside the better recordings of this repertoire. Besides having a bright but dimensional sound, David Fray's hyper-articulate phrasing gives the music the sort of narrative it should always have but seldom does, because of pianists who stand too much in awe of it. With Fray, no rhythmic variation or harmonic change goes unnoticed - or without a sense of its broader meaning. Best of all, Fray injects worlds of emotion into every musical episode, not by distorting the music's shape but by revealing it with greater detail and comprehension.

In effect, Fray uses every aspect of the music - from overall form to momentary surface novelties - to discover its meaning. He's matched at every turn by conductor Jaap van Zweden, who hasn't previously revealed himself to be a particularly distinguished Mozartean, but is here. The recording really is one of the great Mozartean collaborations, up there with Lili Kraus/Pierre Monteux, Peter Serkin/Alexander Schneider, and Mitsuko Uchida/Jeffrey Tate. In fact, Fray's father-in-law, Riccardo Muti, could learn a few things about Mozartean subtlety from this disc.

- David Patrick Stearns