<p> After a decade they have little to show for aside from a stiff political album many fans would rather forget and a disposable instrumental album most fans already have, the <strong>Beastie Boys</strong> return to form on <em>Hot Sauce Committee Part Two</em>, the group\'s first rap album in 7 years (and their first good one in 13). Though there\'s little in the way of real risks or innovation on <em>Hot Sauce Committee</em>, the Beasties aren\'t so much recycling old sounds as they are refining them: The grooves are a little more off-kilter, the synths a little nuttier and the breaks a little snappiereven the album\'s most retro-minded \'80s boogie-funk throwbacks thunder with an aggressive, bottom-heavy mix that drowns out anything from that era. Few rap acts have concerned themselves more with fidelity than the Beastie Boys, and <em>Hot Sauce Committee</em> is another sonic triumph, vibrant with contrasting analogue and electronic textures. The bigger surprise, though, is the rapping. After the tonal misfire of 2004\'s indignant <em>To the 5 Boroughs</em>, the trio is having fun again, rhyming with the mischievous vigor of their prime. It\'s a comfort that, after all these years, Mike D is still coming up with cool ways of saying that he\'s Mike D. <br /></p> <p> There\'s some music that I find so personally irksome that I couldn\'t possible be objective about it, and with its ostentatious Ren Fair arrangements and Simon-and-Garfunkle-reading-Henry-David-Thoreau-by-the-campfire preciousness, <strong>Fleet Foxes</strong>\' new <em>Helplessness Blues</em> falls squarely into that category. I just can\'t find the charm in an eight minute song about an apple orchard (let alone one that culminates in inexplicable avant-garde saxophone fits). Even for a cynic like me, there\'s no denying the moments of glory generously scattered throughout <em>Helplessness Blues</em>with his potent voice and remarkable harmonic sense, Robin Pecknold can create them pretty much from thin airbut those lustrous joys are continually undercut by beige lyrics about lakes, woods, snowflakes and (sigh) magic. </p> <p>Neo-soul has been undergoing something of a second renaissance lately, with fine recent albums from Maxwell, Bilal and Erykah Badu. <strong>Musiq Soulchild</strong> isn\'t quite as iconoclastic or visionary as those artists, but he has an easygoing, eager-to-please presence that serves him well on his summery sixth album <em>Musiqinthemagiq</em>, a collection of smooth, tightly crafted pleasantries bookended by two spectacular tracks: the party-starting opener “Anything,” a Swizz Beats-assisted makeover of Central Line\'s early-\'80s disco hit “Walking into Sunshine,” and the closing outlier “Likethesun,” a stark lament set to desolate synthesized beat. The latter testifies that while Soulchild might not be the tortured type, he could convincingly play the part if he wanted to.<br /><br />Also out this week:<br /><br /><strong>Architecture In Helsinki</strong> - <em>Moment Bends </em> <br /><strong>Cat\'s Eyes</strong> - <em>Cat\'s Eyes </em> <br /><strong>Colbie Caillat</strong> - <em>All Of You </em> <br /><strong>Gruff Rhys</strong> - <em>Hotel Shampoo</em> <br /><strong>Jennifer Lopez</strong> - <em>Love?</em> <br /><strong>Stevie Nicks</strong> - <em>In Your Dreams<br /></em><br /> </p>
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