‘my dinosaur life’

‘my dinosaur life’

Motion City Soundtrack

(Columbia)

Grade: B+

With “My Dinosaur Life,” the charming Minnesota rockers’ major-label debut, Motion City Soundtrack moves forward by looking back.

Produced by Blink-182’s Mark Hoppus, “Dinosaur” is stuffed with the influence of ’90s-era alternative rock. The raging first single, “Disappear,” binds Justin Pierre’s distinctly current vocal style to the rockier elements of early Soul Asylum and Goo Goo Dolls. There are bits of Blink in “Pulp Fiction” and of Weezer in “Worker Bee” that battle with MCS’ already-established power-pop sound. In the end, though, the songs win out.

— Glenn Gamboa, Long Island Newsday

‘Malice N Wonderland’

Snoop Dogg (Priority/EMI)

Grade: B

Snoop Dogg — slippery-tongued rapper, host of “Snoop Bowl VIII” — has a pattern in his recording history. Going back to 1993’s four-star “Doggystyle,” one album is great, the next merely good-to-OK. All feature his laconic drawl and syrupy flow.

As for his recent output, 2006’s “The Blue Carpet Treatment” was decent and 2008’s “Ego Trippin’” was solidly experimental and delicious.

Following this pattern, “Malice” is back to decent.

There are lame tracks recorded with rappers Kokane and Soulja Boy Tell ’Em. The crunk “1800” — produced by/co-starring Lil Jon — is particularly dated. There are some clunker wordplays like “I’m gettin’ Richard like Pryor.”

But other collaborations in “Wonderland” are sultry, with subtly dramatic rhythm schematics, such as “Gangsta Luv,” produced by and featuring R&B smoothie The-Dream. And R. Kelly, Pharrell and Philly crooner Jazmine Sullivan enhance their Dogg duets.

“Malice” is best, however, when Dogg raps alone and sinks into the belly of the beats, as in the sparsely arranged “Upside Down.” When, in “2 Minute Warning,” Snoop drops, “Ponytail still swingin’ / hair still braided / Laker to a Clipper / I won’t be faded,” all you can think is how right he is.

— A.D. Amorosi, Philadelphia Inquirer

‘End Times’

Eels (Vagrant)

Grade: B

Everywhere Mark Oliver Everett looks, he sees something he doesn’t like.

Whether it’s the relationship dissolution that’s at the heart of his latest album, “End Times,” or the scary state of affairs in our world that he layers atop his personal pain, there’s little for Everett — known as Eels or E — to be happy about.

While the emotions here are mostly difficult, E leavens the hurt with shifting textures and tempos and his trademark humor.

“A Line in the Dirt” kicks off with one of the funniest opening lines in memory — which sadly can’t be reprinted here. The melancholy “In My Younger Days” is a meditation on midlife crises and he retells the breakup against type in the upbeat rocker “Gone Man.”

He backs a loner’s declaration and an apocalyptic vision — “The city’s on fire you can smell the flesh, and the screams like dogs in the wilderness ...” — with an airy guitar strum on “The Mansions of Los Feliz” and strangely compares his ex to a “scary little suicide bomber” in “Paradise Blues.”

This is Everett’s second album in six months, a rapid-fire output for an artist who had a four-year break between releases before “Hombre Lobo” came out over the summer. The albums cover similar thematic ground, but that’s OK. We’re just glad he’s back.

— Chris Talbott, Associated Press

‘Transference’

Spoon (Merge)

Grade: B

Ever since 2001’s “Girls Can Tell,” the Austin, Texas, foursome Spoon has been making the most of a minimalist approach to spiky, Brit-punk-influenced rock ’n’ roll. Transference doesn’t upset the apple cart, by any means: The Britt Daniel-led band plays to its strengths with a taut set of jagged tunes that say as much with what they leave out as what they put in.

The mood is darker this time, though, and the band seems more intent on pleasing itself by tinkering with dub-flavored experimentation and extended instrumental codas than targeting audience expansion.

“I’ve got nothing to lose but darkness and shadows / Got nothing to lose but emptiness and hang-ups,” Daniel sings on the hypnotic vamp “Got Nuffin,” and there isn’t anything on Transference quite as catchy as, say, “You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb,” from 2005’s Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. Still, a Spoon-ful goes a long way.

— Dan DeLuca, Philadelphia Inquirer