Now, Vol. 25

Now That's What I Call Music! is back yet again with another CD of songs played heavily on radio and hit the most "buy now" buttons on iTunes, defining them as hits. A very well rounded collection of songs. Summer 2007 offers Now That's What I Call Music, Vol. 25, featuring twenty absolutely current and up-to-date, chart topping hit tracks. The NOW CDs are remarkable for their eclectic nature. The genres include emo, pop, R&B, hip-hop and anything else in pop music.

Infinity on High

After the success of From Under the Cork Tree, Fall Out Boy earned the right to indulge their whims. Fortunately, their instincts tend to serve them well (not counting those infamous cell-phone photos). On their most adventurous album, Def Jam prez Jay-Z introduces "Thriller," while Kenneth "Babyface" Edmonds produces groove-heavy hit "This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race" and "Thnks fr th Mmrs." A few new flourishes aside, however, like guitarist Joe Trohman's Metallica moves on "Thriller," the Chicago-bred band remains true to their punk-pop roots, even if vocalist Patrick Stump sounds like Mr. Sexyback on "This Ain't a Scene" and "I'm like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me + You)." You can thank bass player/songwriter Pete Wentz for the unwieldy song titles. As he explains in "Fame < Infamy," "I am God's gift / Why would he bless me with such wit without a conscience." Whether spicing up their recipe with R&B swagger or playing it straight, FOB are at their best when they crank up the volume. Hence, the piano-based "Golden" is the weakest track on an otherwise solid outing. Hey, maybe they just wanted to see what a stadium looks like bathed in the glow of a thousand lighters. Taking its title from a letter Vincent Van Gogh sent to his brother Theo ("Be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high"), Fall Out Boy's fourth seems likely to follow its predecessor into the platinum stratosphere. --Kathleen C. Fennessy

The Best Damn Thing [CLEAN]

The first clue to the sound of Avril Lavigne's third CD, The Best Damn Thing, comes in the form of her kickoff single, "Girlfriend," which is filled with singing, clapping, and cheerleader-style chanting. The song is quite a sonic contrast to her previous disc, Under My Skin, which was considered to be Lavigne's more mature follow-up to her 16 million-selling debut CD, Let Go. Like that debut, The Best Damn Thing will be largely and deeply embraced by teenage girls, and is packed with songs that will create enthusiastic sing-alongs in concert. There are a handful of numbers that will appeal to a wider audience; "Innocence" and disc closer "Keep Holding On" would both fit perfectly in a Gray's Anatomy episode, while the sultry message and solid harmonies in "Hot" will appease ears of many ages. Lavigne's husband, Sum 41 frontman Deryk Whibley makes an appearance as producer and instrumentalist on a handful of tracks; their union, however, seems to have bred more than love. "I Don't Have to Try" and "Everything Back But You" both have a frenetic pace and chorus that is so eerily Sum-like that if they weren't married, a copyright lawsuit might ensue. That aside, the record oscillates between lyrically acerbic fare ("One of Those Girls," "I Can Do Better") and fluffy sugar-pop melodies ("Contagious," "The Best Damn Thing") delivering far more spunk rock than punk rock. --Denise Sheppard

The Sweet Escape

There's nothing like a Gwen Stefani disc to rip you from your pop comfort zone and, in the pleasantest way possible, knock you around a bit. On The Sweet Escape, the blows arrive roughly every four minutes: a yodel ("Wind It Up") skitters off ceremoniously before the title track, featuring Akon, catches you off guard with its infectious yelps of "Woo-hoo, YEE-hoo!," and the pouty rap of "Orange County Girl" has barely petered out before we're vectored somewhere back toward the '80s with the indie rock-ish "Early Winter." That the sound of these songs doesn't follow a formula--that they pounce wherever they please, without regard for genres or decades--is no big whoop; this is Gwen Stefani, after all, and her up-for-anything, play-along fans probably wouldn't have it any other way. More surprising is the extent to which Stefani inserts what seems to be her genuine self into the music: "4 in the Morning," a Madonna-reminiscent midtempo groover, drops the wide-eyed Betty Boop pose and basks in a rarely plumbed depth of feeling ("I give you everything that I am / I'm handing over everything that I've got / 'cause I wanna have a really true love," she sings with something like sincerity). A single track later, she's owning up to motherhood in the sexiest, most unapologetic way possible: "I know you've been waiting," she pants, "but I've been off making babies / And like a chef making donuts and pastries / It's time to make you sweat." Lyrics don't get much cleverer than the ones to "Breakin' Up," a kiss-off disguised as a dropped cell phone call, and sounds don't get much swizzier than the ones on "Now That You Got It." Which is to say that Gwen's got game--as much as on Love.Angel.Music.Baby, if not more--and that anytime she's prepared to hollaback, the world will do well to listen. --Tammy La Gorce

I'm Not Dead

Some music is celebrated for its elegant subtlety; Pink's slams you over the head. Four albums in, she's not changing her formula. I'm Not Dead touches on bulimia ("Stupid Girls"), war-mongering politicians ("Dear Mr. President"), teen angst ("Conversations With My 13 Year Old Self," "Runaway"), overheated pickup artists ("U + Ur Hand"), and gross materialism ("I Got Money Now"). None of it, in other words, is for featherweight listeners. Then again, none of it suits eggheaded college tastemakers either. Where this translates, then, is with those willing to man up and embrace what makes Pink Pink: her spellbinding ability to render rebelliousness in all the many colors of the rainbow. Neil Young-inspired acoustic guitar is sketched into "The One That Got Away," but it's just as quickly scribbled over by Joan Jett-style ranting (on "Long Way to Happy") and Janis Joplin/Joss Stone-fueled howling (on "Who Knew"). Even R&B gets its turn ("I Got Money Now"). The album also includes appearances from the Indigo Girls, who duet on "Dear Mr. President," and Pink's father, who joins for the hidden track "I Have Seen The Rain." Pink pulls all of this off, and probably without even breathing hard. She's not dead. --Tammy La Gorce

The Dutchess

If you thought Black Eyed Pea-sized bites of Fergie might be all you could handle--that a full plate of Fergie is possibly too much for any discerning musical palate--The Dutchess might change your mind. For here the lumpen lady throws caution to the wind and threads her pop needle with an ambitious ribbon of yet-to-be-conquered genres: reggae and ska on "Mary Jane Shoes," with Rita Marley; vintage soul on "Here I Come"; '80s hip-hop on "Fergalicious"; and sophisticated R&B on the John Legend-assisted "Finally." It's a tremendous and unpredictable expenditure of effort that mostly pays off--echoes of more talented vocalists like Pink, Beyoncé, and Christina Aguilera poke through in places. But while unbridled messing about can pay handsome artistic dividends (here, the guitar-propelled rock-like track "Big Girls Don't Cry" coughs them up), ultimately it's when Fergie's at her Peas-iest that she's most lovable; cases in point are the raunchily irresistible "London Bridge," which earned every week of its chart-topping success, and the will.i.am-assisted "Clumsy," a girl-group-styled bump-a-thon that showcases Fergie's coolest and most distinctive asset--her personality--to winning effect. --Tammy La Gorce

B'day

History may prove Beyoncé's B'Day to be a rare double-whammy of an achievement. Not only is it destined to hold up as one of the thumpingest, most polished-sounding discs of 2006, it's also bound to loose a new phrase into the popular lexicon: a "freekum dress" (n.), as described on a same-named track halfway through this excellent CD, is a "right-fittin'" garment owned by every woman; "when they act wrong, that's when you put it on." Linguistic hijinks aside, here is Beyoncé as the public rarely sees her: fully liberated and artistically fearless. "Ring the Alarm," a big-banging, fire-alarm-clanging wake-up call to a cheating man, finds her seething; "Kitty Kat," a feline-like size-up of a stale relationship helped along by the still innovative Neptunes, shows her spurned; the womanly, fire-in-the-belly come-on "Suga Mama" gets her way, way worked up; and the crackling, vocally volcanic "Resentment" steeps her in Aretha-caliber soul. For all the disc's solo trailblazing, though, where it really soars is on one of two duets with Jay-Z: While "Up Grade U" chugs along entertainingly enough about the good life ("I'm talkin' spa bags and fly pads and rooms at the Bloomberg"), opener "Deja Vu" blasts out a bomp-bomp beat nobody with a head to nod could resist. Cake, candles, and Cristal or no, B'Days rarely get this good. --Tammy La Gorce

FutureSex / LoveSounds

One spin of FutureSex/LoveSounds and it's hard to believe that Justin Timberlake was ever a boy-band barnstormer--no modern-day male artist beats him when it comes to single-minded self assurance or suavity. "SexyBack," the inescapable summer sizzler of a first single off this short and thrillingly unwholesome disc, makes that clear on its own: If there was ever any question about whether sexy was in need of reviving--a doubtful proposition at best, given the sheer volume of JT's gyrating counterparts--he lays it to rest instantly over a small but insistent Timbaland-concocted beat. On that track, Timberlake's appeal is his sweet but newly thuggish-sounding voice--here's a good kid gone bad, and he's determined to convince us of it not only by tossing a few well-timed mother****ers our way but also with such lyrics as "I'll let you whip me if I misbehave." The rest of FutureSex will feel familiar to anyone who picked up 2002's brilliantly funk-flecked Justified: "Love Stoned/I Think She Knows Me," shifts from Michael Jackson-esque paranoid trilling to pulsating guitar rock; "Chop Me Up," a collaboration with Three 6 Mafia and Timbaland, gives up the grit rap-style but still manages to recall both Prince and Stevie Wonder; "My Love," with T.I., mines classic Timberlake territory with meltaway lyrics like "I can see us holding hands walking on the beach/Our clothes in the sand"; and the straight-up but groovy lament "Losing My Way" asks, searchingly, what may be the silliest question a squeal-inducing pop star has ever posed: "Can anybody out there feel me?" Rest assured, JT: we feel every past-, present-, and future-sexy verse. --Tammy La Gorce

fro

Kelly Clarkson, kindly step aside: the title "Because of You" now belongs to Ne-Yo, who has done things with it no one with a pair of hands to clap will soon forget. And not just on the phenomenally appealing first single. Throughout Because of You, the sophomore disc by the songwriter responsible for such monster hits as Beyoncé's "Irreplaceable" and Rihanna's "Unfaithful," a flutter-voiced fluidity--the kind seldom heard since Michael Jackson's Off the Wall days--reigns. Jay-Z makes room to let it rip on "Crazy," and Jennifer Hudson wraps herself around it with restraint on "Leaving Tonight," a lovers' quarrel that could hold its own against anything Marilyn McCoo & Billy David Jr. cared to toss off in their heyday. If it's MJ who's lingered in Ne-Yo's ear longest, Prince hasn't gone silent, either: echoes poke up on the far-out "Sex with My Ex." Elsewhere, shades of contemporaries such as Nelly and Diddy show through. Overall, though, Ne-Yo's flammable hooks, flirty vibe, and flawless vocals reveal an R&B genius in the making. If the talent bar for up-and-comers is set impossibly high in the coming years, chances are it will be all because of him. --Tammy La Gorce

Epiphany

T-Pain opens the liner notes to his hotly anticipated second disc with a couple of helpful definitions: An epiphany is "the manifestation of a supernatural being" (definition No. 1) or "a sudden moment of insight or revelation" (No. 2), the opening page puts forth. Because most of the R&B record-buying world knows that T-Pain is not a supernatural being, but a stylish and inventive singer from Tallahassee, it would seem the second definition inspired the title--T-Pain probably felt flashes of inspiration when laying out the lyrics. A single spin ought to convince listeners a little of both factored in, though: Songs like "Bartender" and "Buy U a Drank" send out a southern hip-hop vibe silky enough to be considered a revelation (thanks partially to Akon, who pitches in on "Bartender"). And because the entire album leans hard on the vocoder, tracks such as opener "Tallahassee Love," a nod to Tupac's "California Love," sound otherworldly, a la definition one. Throughout, T-Pain hands out hooks like there's been a two-for-one sale. Maybe they came to him in a series of epiphanies. Or maybe a benevolent R&B being--some supernatural force who knows how to make a hit record--whispered them in his ear. --Tammy La Gorce

Street Love

On Street Love, Lloyd packs in the urban-tough reputation he was going for on 2004's Southside and becomes, unmistakably, a sweetie. His heart beats for two on "Valentine." He whispers candy-coated nothings on the title track. And by the time we're nine songs in, the man has sunk, love-scorched, to his knees. Which turns out to be a pretty great position for him to make a record from, actually. Lloyd's shift to the soft side on this well-executed sophomore set will cause the inevitable comparisons to the reigning king of all R&B love-song crooners, Usher. But it shouldn't. Mr. Polite, as the well-acquainted call him, is a different sort of singer entirely: sub out the realistic, realtionshippy lyrics for something sensational, and he could be Michael Jackson. That he chooses to hang his songs on relatable scenes (like "Killing Me," at the club) gives us a glimmer of what a street-loving, lady-killing Michael might have sounded like. And then the disc adds a little more: the soul-leaning joint "Hazel" hints at stylistic leaps to come, and "I Want You (remix)," with Andre 3000 and Nas, is as satisfying a kicker as we've seen in 2007. --Tammy La Gorce

Notebook Paper

Notebook Paper is a moving testimony to life's ups and downs from St. Louis native, Huey's eyes. Bound by his love for the streets and everything therein, it is as much gutter as it is straightforward and real. It's laced with guest appearances by Llyod, T-Pain, Bow Wow, and more. It features production by Jazze Pha, T-Pain, Tha Bakery, and Raw Beatzz among others. Inundated in a world beset by rappers preoccupied with immersing themselves in the superficial elements of the world, Huey allowed his heart to dictate where the music would take him. Notebook Paper tells it true.

Music Is My Savior

If you've heard a cell phone ring in the past month, you are probably familiar with Mims. The New York rapper scored a smash hit with "This Is Why I'm Hot," a catchy little thing with a cool, minimalist beat and some goofy charm. Nothing else on Mims' debut, Music Is My Savior, is as instantly gratifying as "Hot." But the beats keep things moving: "Cop It" traffics in big, nickel-plated bounce, and "Big Black Train" is another bare-bones banger. Mims can't carry a whole album, and Savior is long on quasi-Southern junk rhymes about Mims' general excellence and panty-melting suaveness. Kick back and enjoy it for what it's worth. - Christian Hoard

Strength & Loyalty

It doesn't happen much, but there are times when the departure of a group's most prominent player inspires the rest of the act to get seriously bizzy. Strength & Love, a tight disc that skitters from track to shiny track with imagination and a renewed sense of rap's widened boundaries, makes Bone Thugs-N-Harmony a prime example. Without Bizzy Bone to layer a drizzle of Midwestern vocal weirdness over their sound, Layzie, Krayzie, and Wish Bone call in a crew of hard-hitting helpers: Akon delivers twice, first on the melting "I Tried" and again on the weepy "Never Forget Me," Mariah Carey flits through "Lil Love" alongside Bow Wow, and Twista and Yolanda Adams also make reputation-enhancing appearances (Twista by barreling through "C-Town" at breakneck speed and Adams by giving it up gorgeously for God on "Order My Steps (Dear Lord)"). Best of all about this proud-making comeback disc is its clever use of samples: "Wind Blow" pins the Fleetwood Mac chestnut "The Chain" down to urban pavement without wrecking its spirit, and the smartly produced "The Streets" updates the vibe of Bobby Womack's timeless "Across 110th Street" while preserving its grit-covered class. --Tammy La Gorce

The Price of Fame

Bow Wow opens his fifth CD, The Price of Fame with a solemn interview clip in which the rapper/actor discusses "the mental breakdown dealing with the price of fame," thus setting the stage for a deeply emotive release. For a handful of tracks, he does exactly that, showing fans--and his competition-- just how refreshing that can be. The disc's first single, "Shortie Like Mine," featuring fellow teen heartthrob Chris Brown finds Bow Wow spitting rapid-fire rhymes and embedding lyrical skills with his especially melodic rap style. "Tell Me" combines those same talents mixed with surprisingly candid subject matter: a plea to get his ex to come back to him. As he implores "I'm a whole different individual now/everybody but you invisible now" to compelling back beats and samples (thanks to co-Executive Producer Jermaine Dupri), it feels like the pair could create a new genre: emo/electro/hip-hop. Dupri's amped-up hooks drive the disc, staying consistent while Bow Wow's identity oscillates between a lover and a wanna-be gangsta. Other songs worth noting are the hidden track, an R. Kelly duet dubbed "I'm a Flirt" and the cheeky "Damn Thing" featuring Da Brat. On the downside, a number of tunes contain far too much thug posturing: "Bet That," "4 Corners" (featuring Lil' Wayne) and the 50 Cent-inflected "On Fiya" are filled with clichéd car/money/thug lyrics, causing Bow Wow's uniqueness to get lost in the flow. --Denise Sheppard

My December

Judging by the themes of anger and betrayal that dominate Kelly Clarkson's third disc, My December, perhaps 'Jagged Little Idol' would have been a more telling title. According to interviews, the massively successful artist wanted more creative control with her music going forward; as a result, unlike her previous CDs, Clarkson contributes as a songwriter on every track. The final product is not nearly as catchy as Breakaway, but is far more introspective and honest. My December's overall sound brings a harder musical style than fans might expect, with acerbic lyrics to match; the disc's first single "Never Again"--a dark rock song slamming her ex-boyfriend--is certainly a tip-off. The compelling chorus of "Hole" finds Clarkson singing "There's a hole/inside of me/it's so damn cold/slowly killing me" over a melody that is far more Tool than top-40. "Haunted" and "Judas" are wrought-over tracks that veer into Evanescence territory, while the wonderfully sparse "Maybe" is a highlight within which Clarkson's pleading voice is perfectly showcased. My December's final listed track, "Irvine" (prior to the hidden bluesy acoustic ballad "Chivas") sounds far more Cat Power-meets-Corinne Bailey Rae than Clarkson, but it is certainly one of the most captivating songs on the disc, and serves as yet another reminder of just how versatile her voice is. Fans of her previous radio-friendly releases may well be divided on her new direction, but it appears to be the path Clarkson is likely to continue to travel. --Denise Sheppard

Boys Like Girls

Do you like generally upbeat, overwrought pop songs guaranteed to make you either tap your foot in agreement or cringe at their vapidity? If so, you'll love the highly refined yet still cookie cutter sound of Boys Like Girls' self-titled debut record. With the sheen of a major label behind them, Boys Like Girls have written a record whose catchiness is surpassed only by its complete lack of substance. There are times where it works, amazingly enough. - Tony Pascarella

Love, Pain & the Whole Crazy Thing

It's tempting to read these songs--many about hope in the face of potential heartbreak--as an adjunct to Keith Urban's own tabloid-fodder life, which lately reads "ex-junkie country star marries Nicole Kidman, enters rehab." But his three previous albums have similar dark undertones. That would also be an underestimation of Urban's creative powers, which are broad enough to balance assembly-line Nashville pop with emotionally fine-tuned artistry. Breezy rockers like "Faster Car," sweet hooky ballads like "Shine," and readymade big-chorus hits like "Once in a Lifetime" rub elbows with more complex numbers like "I Can't Stop Loving You"--an essay about sad courage that starts with an acoustic guitar and adds instrumental textures as it unfolds--and "Stupid Boy," a tale of loss and self-discovery. It's no coincidence that both those songs climax with Urban's own crying guitar solos. As a player, his bold, midrange-heavy tone complements his most nuanced vocal performances. Another highlight is "Raise the Barn," which Urban co-wrote and sings with Ronnie Dunn. The cheerful tune, inspired by the survivors of Hurricane Katrina, is a tribute to the durability of the human spirit--a subject Urban seems to know more than a little about. --Ted Drozdowski

Some Hearts

Would American Idol winner Carrie Underwood have landed a major-label recording contract without winning the hugely popular television contest? Probably. The big-voiced Oklahoman has the pipes, the look, the pedigree, and, most important, the emotional resonance to sustain a professional career. As an investment in her future, her label eschewed the easy path in putting out an album to take advantage of her publicity, going for a name producer, Dann Huff (Keith Urban, Faith Hill, Lonestar), to handle half the tracks. It also solicited material from the same top songwriters (Diane Warren, Brett James, Troy Verges, Rivers Rutherford) who stock albums by Hill, Martina McBride, Trisha Yearwood, and Wynonna. "Jesus, Take the Wheel," the hit first single, shows off the best of Underwood's power vocals, while the sexy rocker "We're Young and Beautiful" pulls her out of her ballad-heavy comfort zone, and her autobiographical "I Ain't in Checotah Anymore" bolsters her authenticity. If the young performer oversings on occasion (the overwrought bonus track, "Inside Your Heaven"), and settles for too many generic themes, she still surprises in her ability to go head-to-head with country's reigning females. Will Underwood really survive to be a contender for the Martina throne? Let's just say that American Idol judges and voters picked the right contestant. If the posturing Bo Bice had won, rock stars would hardly be quaking in their boots. --Alanna Nash

Elliott Yamin

Elliott Yamin's debut is so agreeable and well-executed it may well convert hardened R&B experts--the kind who'd normally distance themselves from a disc with a TV pedigree. With sincerity and a voice that vaults itself to places no talent-show contestant should be able to go, Yamin bares his soul here in a way that would do his hero, Donny Hathaway, proud. Tracks like "Take My Breath Away" and "You Are the One" find him twisting a wrench around love-stained lyrics; "I'm the Man" and "Find A Way" flow with hat-in-hand grace (and, in the case of the latter, a scat worthy of a vintage jazz stage); and opener "Movin' On" immortalizes the season five judges'-table words of Paula Abdul: Ellliott Yamin is "one funky white boy." As he proves with this five-star album, he is also among the most gifted artists ever to a turn a stint on the show into a recording career. --Tammy La Gorce

Daughtry

Chris Daughtry starts his first post-American Idol disc with a song whose title reviewers coast to coast will be grateful for: "It's Not Over." What an understatement. For the Idol-watching rock fan's money, nobody--not even Southern-fried heartthrob Bo Bice in season four--stormed the stage with more raw talent. That it translates so well to a solo disc (Daughtry was recorded with studio musicians; future discs will include a Daughtry-assembled band) proves all he needed was a little prodding, the kind the tube has gotten so good at. Here are a dozen songs that'll flick your rock & roll switch, whether you're a Creed fan, a club kid, or a mambo king: "Used To" and "Over You," a couple of early tracks, ought to arrive bundled with a road map they're so highway sing-along-ready, and "Feels Like Tonight" screws the lid on the premise that Daughtry can deliver a punchy pop-rock song without flinching. Elsewhere, the North Carolina family man lets his inner (and outer, actually) goatee- and eyeliner-type guy rip: his built-for-the-hard-stuff voice bites down appealingly on "Breakdown," a dark serenade to mental health, and also on "What I Want," an '80s-style fist-pumper featuring Slash. The loud mad dash of those songs leads to a midtempo wind-down ("All These Lives," "What About Now"), but as a mix, it works. Daughtry is a man of many moods--contemplative, explosive, insistent, humble. No matter which pokes through on a given song, he steadies it to a place as honest as it is accessible. Rare is the rocker who lays out so broad an on-ramp. --Tammy La Gorce