“The Slip”

“The Slip”

Nine Inch Nails

Grade: B+

For a famously self-loathing shut-in, Trent Reznor is sure acting like a magnanimous man about town of late. “This one’s on me,” he says, on Nin.com, where “The Slip” is available for download for absolutely nothing, and you couldn’t leave a tip even if you wanted to. And on “Discipline,” “The Slip’s” first single, which fuses tinkling piano with fuzzed-out guitars, Reznor is open about his inability to go it alone: “I need your discipline,” he admits. “I need your help.”

On the same song, Reznor asks, “Is my viciousness losing ground?” Not so much that he should worry about it. “The Slip,” which is the latest in a recent outpouring of material that’s included the instrumental opus album “Ghosts, I-IV,” is the best NIN album since 1994’s “The Downward Spiral.” That’s because it returns to the tightly-coiled tension that marked Reznor’s early work, while dropping in delicate, whispering ballads such as “Lights In the Sky.”

“Put the gun in my mouth, close your eyes, blow my ... brains out!,” the 43-year-old Reznor politely requests in “1,000,000,” lest you think he’s getting soft, or will ever run out of compact, claustrophobic, catchy bursts of self-directed rage.

— Dan DeLuca, Philadelphia Inquirer

“I Know You’re Married But I’ve Got Feelings Too”

Martha Wainwright

Grade: B

Like father Loudon Wainwright III, Martha Wainwright relishes exploring the less-savory sides of characters: adulterers, suicides, despairing or obsessing lovers. Like mother Kate McGarrigle, she can sing acoustic-based folk-pop with restraint and beauty. Like brother Rufus, she also has a penchant for art songs and grand gestures.

But Martha Wainwright is not merely the sum of her family. Although her mother and brother drop in (as do Pete Townshend, Garth Hudson and Donald Fagen) on the deliciously titled “I Know You’re Married But I’ve Got Feelings Too,” her second album is the work of a fully formed, independent-minded artist, not just someone with an impressive friends list. Wainwright delves into politics (“Tower Song”) and pop (covering Pink Floyd’s “See Emily Play” and Eurythmics’ “Love is a Stranger”), and warbles and twists melodies, and narratives, in unexpected ways.

— Steve Klinge, Philadelphia Inquirer

“Jim”

Jamie Lidell

Grade: B

The description isn’t too sexy: Exquisite soul vocalist who experiments with electronic noise and crepuscular ambience. But that’s what you might have found on weird Brit swinger Jamie Lidell’s business card until “Jim” came along. That’s not to say the gray clouds that filled 2000’s “Muddlin Gear” and 2005’s “Multiply” are gone completely. They’ve been blown aside — way aside — to allow Lidell’s sunnier disposition to shine through in an elegant display of Motown-y shuffles and heavenly atmospheric gospel-ish pop just this side of Sam Cooke.

With a playfully picked acoustic guitar, some fluttering violins, and a spare, thumping rhythm, Lidell — a slight grit to his voice — teeters about “All I Wanna Do” like a love-drunk schoolboy. Same goes for the candle-flickering funk of “Little Bit of Feel Good” and the quietly hiccupping R B of “Green Light.”

All of “Jim’s” songs are sonorous and swaying. The grooves are in the heart. And his voice is an instrument of God. You just wished that the Lord and Lidell allowed some of “Jim’s” silver linings a little of Multiply’s blackening. A little dusk and musk might have earned this one more star.

— A.D. Amorosi, Philadelphia Inquirer

“Loverly”

Cassandra Wilson (Blue Note)

Grade: C+

Singer Cassandra Wilson, whose work often veers beyond jazz, cuts a session largely of vintage standards for the first time since 1988. In her use of smears and squishing of time, Wilson seems to be channeling Betty Carter and Nina Simone.

Wilson gets spacey at times, swallowing lines and impersonating a horn in a search for a novel take. The breathy obliqueness on “Gone With the Wind” doesn’t score much.

Wilson’s pared-down take of “Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most” has more energy, but Marvin Sewell’s reverberating steel guitar sound proves distracting on this duet, as it does elsewhere on the CD.

Where Wilson shows some pizzazz is on the funky remake of “St. James Infirmary.” There’s no sidestepping the vibe here; Wilson cooks straight up. Likewise, “Dust My Broom” is a righteous blues with true fire.

It’s expected that Wilson, whose last CD, “Thunderbird,” boasted scads of programming and loops, should approach standards with a twist. But the classic tunes often prove daunting enough to accentuate her less desirable habits.

— Karl Stark, Philadelphia Inquirer

“The Magic Within”

Tyrone Brown (Dreambox)

Grade: B

Bassist Tyrone Brown plops string players amid a sizzling jazz rhythm section. The combination can create a pretentious cocktail — the strings do sound whiny at times — but Brown, longtime bassist to the late drummer Max Roach, never loses focus on this as a jazz excursion.

His 10 compositions, inspired by the paintings of abstract artist Herbert Gentry, offer Monkian views of the world, fertile grooves and snake-charming lyricism. “Dancing Turk” is nicely exotic, while the title track bubbles along with a respectable solo by cellist Jim Holton.

Throughout, there’s the clear-your-head playing of altoist Bobby Zankel, whose keening lines seem to get more to the point every year. Vibraphonist Randy Sutin offers some sympathetic playing, while drummer Craig McIver is at the root of every happening vibe.

— Karl Stark, Philadelphia Inquirer

“Tha Carter III”

Lil Wayne (Universal Motown)

Grade: D

More than most rappers, Lil Wayne is a master at self-mythologizing. Like his predecessors the Notorious B.I.G. and Jay-Z, Wayne claims of no longer writing down his lyrics before recording. Given the volume of record-stealing guest appearances and the flood of mixtapes since his last studio album, “Tha Carter II” (2005), that free-association songwriting approach seems all the more remarkable. So much so that he has claimed to be the best rapper alive.

Now with the release of “Tha Carter III,” Wayne attempts live up to his own hype, but falls short. The disc is a frustratingly uneven effort that’s filled safe songs aimed at commercial radio and a few quirky cuts that feature Wayne’s bizarre sense of humor and inflated opinion of his rap skills. The best of the latter is “A Milli,” a bizarre, breathless rundown of Wayne’s self-worth: “Threw the pencil and leak on the sheet of the tablet in my mind/Cause I don’t write [expletive] cause I ain’t got time/Cause my seconds, minutes, hours go to the all mighty dollar.” He gets conceptual on the jazzy, Swizz Beatz-produced “Dr. Carter,” on which he diagnoses and cures rap’s ailments. Later Kanye West lends a soaring soul sample under Wayne’s staccato, twangy flow on “Let the Beat Build.” And on “Phone Home,” he channels E.T. in a semi-robotic cadence: “We are not the same/ I am a martian.”

However, it’s obvious that Wayne’s rap ambition is more dependent on radio play than true experimentation. Hence, there are Auto-Tuned throwaway ditties — “Got Money” with T-Pain and the ubiquitous first single, “Lollipop” featuring the late Static Major. And he further tempers the out-there moments with conventional R&B hooks and smoothed-out grooves — Robin Thicke, Bobby Valentino and Babyface all make appearances. Ultimately the gloss seems to dull Wayne’s potential to be one of rap’s true innovators.

— Brett Johnson, Associated Press