‘Noble Beast’

‘Noble Beast’

Andrew Bird (Fat Possum)

Grade: A

“Noble Beast” reaffirms there are fewer stranger, magical creatures in the indie rock world than Andrew Bird.

Lumped into the guitar-driven genre for lack of anything else to do with him, Bird is to brainy indie rock what Einstein was to physics. He’s thinking on a different level, taking his inspiration from a strange place.

A classically trained violinist — and a heck of a whistler — who turned to the less-constrained life of rock ’n’ roll, Bird’s career has taken flight in an unexpected way. His last album, the breakthrough “Armchair Apocrypha,” went gold, and “Noble Beast” seems headed that way with a larger marketing campaign, dozens of media mentions ahead of the release and a recent void of interesting music.

Bird’s traded the dingy halls he once haunted with his one-man shows for a full band and appearances at Carnegie Hall.

The 14 tracks of “Noble Beast” are more airy and approachable than the preceding album. Though just as heady and surprising as “Armchair Apocrypha,” “Noble Beast” only lacks for a standout song that begs for attention.

—Chris Talbott, Associated Press

‘Compass’

Joshua Redman (Nonesuch)

Grade: B

The crowning moment of saxophonist Joshua Redman’s new CD comes during a simple rendition of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata.” Dubbed “Moonlight” here, the take is surprisingly poignant and devoid of much soloing, yet its grandeur is undeniable.

That it’s also the product of double trios — two basses and two drummers with Redman on top — shows the risks taken here by Redman, the son of saxophonist Dewey Redman and a major label leader since 1993.

Redman plays five tracks with this unusual entourage, expanding dramatically on his acoustic trio release, “Back East,” of 2007. The double trios inject some new daring in Redman, who acknowledges online that “sometimes I’m guilty, with my recordings, of having too clear a plan. This time I said, ’Hey, I just have to let go.’ “

—Karl Stark, Philadelphia Inquirer

‘Merriweather Post Pavilion’

Animal Collective (Domino)

Grade: B+

What makes Animal Collective so thrilling is the risk. Over the past eight albums, the Brooklyn via Baltimore group was liable to try almost anything. On “Merriweather Post Pavilion,” the risks are much more calculated — with a higher percentage of Beach Boys harmonies and chugging rhythms than in the past. “Summertime Clothes” bounces playfully between ’60s pop and ’70s Kraftwerk. “Brothersport” is part Afro-pop, part electro-swirl, while “My Girls” comes close to a house remix of “Pet Sounds.”

—Glenn Gamboa, Newsday

‘Live in New York’

Mark O’Connor’s Hot Swing Trio (Omac Records)

Grade: A-

The amazing thing about fiddler-composer Mark O’Connor is that he’d be equally at home on stage playing country with George Jones, jazz with Wynton Marsalis or classical music with Itzhak Perlman. For this third outing with guitarist Frank Vignola and bassist Jon Burr, O’Connor’s starting point is the fleet-fingered swing of his mentor, French violinist Stephane Grappelli, and the great Gypsy jazz guitarist Django Reinhardt.

The session opens with a couple of jazz-pop standards, George Gershwin’s “Fascinating Rhythm” and Ray Noble’s “Cherokee,” before moving on to O’Connor’s contiguous suite “Anniversary,” an 11-minute journey rooted in the blues and flowing seamlessly through swing, free-form jazz and traditional folk.

His “M & W Rag” is a thoroughly enchanting bounce in the style of Scott Joplin, and “Fiddler Going Home” is an ode to one of O’Connor’s heroes, Claude “Fiddler” Williams.

—Randy Lewis, Los Angeles Times

‘The Crow: New Songs for the 5-String Banjo’

Steve Martin (40 Productions)

Grade: A

Yes, it’s that Steve Martin.

The funny-man/actor/author also is an accomplished banjo player, as one might remember from those early “wild-and-crazy-guy” days. “The Crow” is the follow-up to 2007’s “Double Banjo Bluegrass Spectacular” (Tony Trischka’s album with Martin, Bela Fleck and others).

Trischka is on hand for “The Crow,” along with Vince Gill, Tim O’Brien, Mary Black, Dolly Parton and more.

Martin wrote 14 of the 15 songs, which range from folk-tinged ballads to more energetic bluegrass.

—Jim Abbott, Orlando Sentinel

‘MANTIS’

Umphrey’s McGee (Sci Fidelity)

Grade: A

It’s hard to find a tidy musical box to put Umphrey’s McGee in. The Chicago-based band’s boundless exploration of jazz-infused jam rock defies further description. In the case of their eighth album, “Mantis,” elusiveness is a good thing.

“Mantis” gives the rock opera treatment to the jam band genre. This soaring harmonic attack on the senses could have failed wildly.

But it didn’t.

A few snippets of traditional blues-rock here, some jazz and heavy metal phrasings there, and voila! A beautiful music gumbo.

Songs like “Made To Measure,” are similar to jaunty mid-career Beatles numbers — evenly paced with proper hooks and turns and no jagged edges. Other tracks, like the short instrumental “Cemetery Walk II” would fit nicely in a techno club on the isle of Ibiza. Go figure. The band pulls off the trans-genre trick without a hitch.

—Ron Harris, Associated Press

‘The Airing of Grievances’

Titus Andronicus (XL)

Grade: B

One could be forgiven for being suspicious of a band named after Shakespeare’s most violent tragedy and whose song titles allude to Breughel, Keats and Camus (the latter song going so far as to include a recitation from “The Stranger”). Pretentious stuff? Not at all, in the hands of this North Jersey punk quartet fronted by 23-year-old Patrick Stickles. He sings with a furious quaver that immediately recalls Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst, and Oberst’s Desaparecidos side-project is a good reference point for these hyperventilating, fist-pumping, life-or-death anthems. “The Airing of Grievances” also recalls Springsteen, the Replacements, Ted Leo, younger peers such as the Gaslight Anthem, and, for their overmodulated rave-ups, Neutral Milk Hotel. The allusions, musical and lyrical, are fun, but they’re only footnotes to Titus Andronicus’ galloping, smart and passionate anthems.

—Steve Klinge, Philadelphia Inquirer