MUSIC | Ratings for selected releases

BROKEN BOY SOLDIERS'
The Raconteurs
(Third Man/V2 Records)
Grade: A
It's not easy having Jack White as your backup singer. A legend on the order of a Loretta Lynn can handle the heat; a laid-back talent such as indie singer-songwriter Brendan Benson has a much greater challenge. On this debut by the Raconteurs, the new combo partnering Benson with the White Stripes auteur over the athletic rhythm section of Cincinnati's Greenhornes, the mood occasionally grows wobbly under the weight of White's charisma (and his keening tenor).
But White is working hard to temper his narcissism in this archive-minded garage band, and his self-regulation helps Benson re-emerge from the heady murk, his bantering wit and pop smarts intact.
Because of Jack's fair play, "Broken Boy Soldiers" doesn't have the startling force of a White Stripes disc; a highly skilled rock revivalist effort, it outclasses, but doesn't blow away, such peers as Wolfmother and Queens of the Stone Age.
The songs zing with the excitement of two music nerds caught up in a game of "Top This!" -- they shift from neo-psychedelia to three-chord raunch to progressive blues on the turn of a reference point. Confident kids Jack Lawrence (on bass) and Patrick Keeler (drums) guide White and Benson through their changes, preventing White from overcompensating, while kicking Benson in the pants. The title track comes close to Stripes-style opera, but surrounded by two sunny Benson melodies, it's more interlude than exorcism.
The Raconteurs' comprehensible, quality rock clarifies the influence of the White Stripes. That project takes White deep into his weedy psyche, with drummer Meg White acting more as a witness than a full partner, and running rampant there, he's reconstructed rock's history in his own image. A guy might let himself go that crazy in front of his (ex) wife, but not in front of his poker club. That's what the Raconteurs are to White so far -- a great place for him to refine his hand.
-- Ann Powers, Los Angeles Times
'10,000 DAYS'
Tool (Volcano)
Grade: B
Tool established the prototype for the melody-in-the-mayhem movement in heavy rock more than a decade ago, and though the band has inspired legions of imitators, no other act has come near duplicating the group's penetrating darkness.
The iconic Los Angeles band pads its lead over its contemporaries with "10,000 Days," Tool' first release since 2001's "Lateralus." In the interim between discs, frontman Maynard James Keenan has been exploring his feminine side with his other band, A Perfect Circle, and that side rubs off on "10,000 Days," which finds Tool more focused than ever on its subdued artistry.
Vocalist Keenan, bassist Justin Chancellor, drummer Danny Carey and guitarist Adam Jones drive deep into the psyche -- not so much by aural might or lyrical intricacy as by earnest commitment to innovation. Tool's complicated network of shifting time signatures is revolutionary, and it encourages faith in the band's sincerity.
"10,000 Days" is a taxing listen, but the intensity holds up for its 75 minutes that include two tracks that each extends beyond 11 minutes in length and six others that fall in the 6- to 9-minute range. Traces of self-indulgence are unavoidable, and they're most glaring in the rare clunky moments and some slow-evolving passages. Yet overall the release conjures the atmosphere of a strange new place where the uneasy visitor is immobilized in shadows as a phosphorescent fog blows by just ahead.
-- Chuck Campbell, Scripps Howard
'ST. ELSEWHERE'
Gnarls Barkley (Downtown)
Grade: B+
Pop music is all about target market pigeonholing: You're a rapper, or a singer-songwriter, or a dance music DJ, or a rock band, or an R & amp;B singer. What's so cool about Gnarls Barkley -- the collaboration between former Goodie Mob leader Cee-Lo Green (born Thomas Calloway) and producer Danger Mouse (Brian Burton) -- is that as well as being all of those things, the duo, ultimately, is a pop act.
"St. Elsewhere" may sound strange -- and in fact, it is, combining Southern soul, songs about necrophilia and feng shui, and a finger-snapping cover of the Violent Femmes' "Gone Daddy Gone." But the payoffs are multifarious. That's partly because Danger Mouse is such a crafty beat maker, at once forward thinking, as on the skittering psychedelic techno freakout "Transformer," and with plenty of old-school tricks up his sleeve, as on the Motown bass line that propels "Smiley Faces."
And Cee-Lo is that rare rapper who's also a convincing soul singer, not to mention a clever songwriter who packs such ear grabbers as the summertime smash "Crazy" and playfully creepy "Boogie Monster" with a thinking man's psychological insight.
-- Dan DeLuca, Philadelphia Inquirer
'WHAT'S LEFT OF ME'
Nick Lachey (Jive)
Grade: D
This is the breakup album from Lachey, former reality TV star now starring in his own private soap opera. Judging by the lyrics, he's not over Jessica Simpson yet. In "On Your Own," he sings, "And I will wait/However long it takes/Till you realize what you've been searching for/Was right here all along." Good luck with that.
The former 98 Degrees frontman hasn't matured much as a vocalist. He still employs that breathy and urgent boy-band delivery. It's a collection of sturdy but rather dull anthems like "Shades of Blue" and "Run to Me." But the mood is kind of a downer (although the lyrics seem heartfelt). Hey, big guy, you want to hear what a breakup album could be? Study Marvin Gaye's "Here, My Dear."
-- David Hiltbrand, Philadelphia Inquirer
'THE BOXING MIRROR'
Alejandro Escovedo
(Back Porch)
Grade: B
It's quintessential Alejandro Escovedo: "The Ladder," a tender ballad graced by acoustic instrumentation, gives way to the raging, full-bore rock of "Break This Time."
The acclaimed Austin-based singer and songwriter pulls off this abrupt shift with typical mastery more than once on "The Boxing Mirror," his first studio album since 2000 and first since his near-fatal bout with hepatitis C. Produced by the Velvet Underground's John Cale, "Mirror" burns with yearning and loss rendered all the more powerful by Escovedo's trademark brand of chamber-rock. Soft and hard, it's all of a piece -- a sound of often primal elegance that lifts not only his most heart-stoppingly direct numbers ("Died a Little Today") but also his most enigmatically evocative ("Notes on Air").
-- Nick Cristiano, Philadelphia Inquirer