Gordon Lightfoot Book, Music and More!

They’ve dabbled in Latin music, remakes of The Village People—even a gay musical on London’s West End. But Pet Shop Boys’ Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe know their bread is buttered in dance clubs. On their latest, they’ve enlisted remixers to rework such early tracks as “If Looks Could Kill” and “Try It (I’m in love with a married man).” While the album does feature new offerings like the dreamy “Somebody Else’s Business,” gone are the deadpan lyrics that made the Boys such a clever pop phenomenon.

Although the sad-faced Texas singer-songwriter with the Eraserhead hair started out with his heart in country, his style has grown increasingly eclectic over the years, moving into pop and jazz with his Large Band. Like Randy Newman, Lovett gets plenty of work from Hollywood—in his case as both an actor and a composer—and this collection is culled from his best soundtrack material. The standout tracks include his take on Ray Charles’ “What’d I Say” and the ecstatic gospel standard “I’m a Solider in the Army of the Lord.”

When Joey Ramone died in 2001, there was such an outpouring of nostalgia that it seemed the entire music world had been pogo-ing to his punk band’s three-chord thrash. That universality is reflected on this star-studded homage.  For no-brainers, there’s Rancid, The Offspring and Green Day. More surprising choices are Garbage, Tom Waits and Marilyn Manson. But nothing tops hearing U2’s Bono, in a break from his crusade for world peace, singing about beating on the brat with a baseball bat. Priceless.

Bristol's trip-hop pioneers have much to live up to after Mezzanine, which became one of the most ubiquitous albums of the late 1990s. The group’s new collection may not become a staple of late-night radio, workout classes and latte bars, but Sinead O’Connor’s haunting vocals on several dark, atmospheric songs are a welcome addition. And the edgy Eastern sound of tracks like “Small Time Shot Away” are perfectly suited to a world on the brink of another terrifying, economically driven Gulf War.

Like an angry Everglade croc, hard-rocking Cinder has roared out of the Florida swamps to threaten the safety of innocents everywhere. Producer Scott Weiland, of the once-relevant Stone Temple Pilots, has a lot to answer for, having unleashed yet another dreadful Creed/Nickelback clone—this one with a desperate shortage of original ideas and raging against god-knows-what—on an unsuspecting public. Someone should wrestle this slimy, mullet-sporting beast to the ground and ship it off to the nearest zoo.

Hermann is the keyboardist for Widespread Panic, one of the many popular neo-hippie jam bands, like Phish and Blues Traveller, to have emerged in the wake of the Grateful Dead. Hermann’s second solo album eschews trippy noodling in favor of crisp, catchy slices of southern rock and country. Working again with Luther and Cody Dickinson of the North Mississippi All-Stars, he cooks up a rich gumbo, especially on the bluesy “And You Wonder” and the hilarious roadhouse boogie “True Blood Assembly.” Tasty stuff.

In the past, Mandell has mixed Rickie Lee Jones bohemia with Lotte Lenya torchiness. Now the Los Angeles singer has added a heaping dose of Patsy Cline twang to her repertoire. For her latest album, Mandell has written slow ’n’ sexy country ballads like “Just Another Lonely Heart” and “Don’t Say You Care” that sound like classics. And she delivers a touchingly vulnerable version of Hank Cochran’s “Don’t Touch Me.” Awash in pedal steel and full of heartache, this exquisite album casts a sultry, lingering spell.

A student of Johnny Woods and Mississippi Fred McDowell and sideman to R.L. Burnside, guitarist Kenny Brown alternates between acoustic and electric blues numbers on his solo debut. It’s a fine approach: Brown can burn up the fretboard on scorching tracks like “Shake ’Em On Down” and then cool it right down with a pretty fingerpicking ballad like “Lonesome Katy Blues.” Similarly, he quickly follows the sleepy, John Prine-like “Cocaine Bill” with the rowdy jump of “France Chance.” Charming and chaotic.

While most of the garage-rock mania has centered on Sweden and America, this helter-skelter outfit is part of a growing contingent from Down Under. Like The Ramones, The Datsuns don’t take themselves too seriously (each member uses the bandname as his surname). And while they share the youthful charm of labelmates The White Stripes on “You Build Me Up (To Bring Me Down),” the Kiwi group leans more to AC/DC, as heard on the reckless “Fink for the Man” and expletive-filled “MF from Hell.”

One of the most inventive pianists working in jazz today, Terrasson has released six distinctive albums of classic and contemporary standards. Here, the Berlin-born artist applies his fleet-fingered approach to songs as diverse as Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile” and Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely,” while recasting them in unusual time signatures. And his playing on his mentor Bud Powell’s joyful “Parisian Thoroughfare,” Miles Davis’ moody “Nardis” and Bill Lee’s movie theme “Mo Better Blues,” is inspired.