POP/ROCK

Depeche Mode, "Sounds of the Universe" (Mute)

On its 12th album, this band -- Dave Gahan, Martin Gore, Andy Fletcher -- is in familiar orbit: rigorous songwriting, largely by Gore; melancholic and desperate singing by Gahan, and propulsive production that's accented with industrial friction. But while it lacks the fragility of 1984's "Some Great Reward" or the earned attitude of 1990's "Violator," it's unmistakably an attempt at revisiting the past, admirable either as an act of defiant stubbornness or of tenacious commitment.

It's listenable, too, in much the way a lost-tapes collection would be. Gahan's ache on "Miles Away" is pleasantly burred, and the arresting multitracked vocal at the outset of "Wrong" recalls the band's pop breakthrough, "Personal Jesus." Best are the moments in which the group toys with notions of sex and power, constructing virtual parodies of early Depeche Mode on "Corrupt" and "Hole to Feed."

Still, even at its most imaginative, this is seamless Depeche Mode filler, music that could be made by any number of acolytes. At times, such as on "Little Soul," Gahan sounds sleepy, struggling to be more than rote.

Quite unintentionally in its steadfast fealty, this album serves as a reminder of how deeply the lessons of new wave have been ingrained in pop -- notably, of late, in R&B and hip-hop production. In that context particularly, Gahan's chilliness and commentary feel like ancient poses. Everyone else hears the same sounds but has learned to let loose.

JON CARAMANICA, NEW YORK TIMES

Allen Toussaint, "The Bright Mississippi" (Nonesuch)

The great pop producer's first solo album in 10 years -- a largely instrumental record of jazz standards and old New Orleans songs -- is a work of the imagination. The record aims at the kind of listener who might have liked the Robert Plant and Alison Krauss album "Raising Sand": It's reconfigured Americana, magic regionalism. And it works, possibly because Toussaint is no pushover.

He brings to these songs his own elegant, reserved sensibility. He shines them up and levels them out into slow-rolling and grandiloquent New Orleans songs, full of tremolo chords and serenity no matter whether they were written by Duke Ellington or Django Reinhardt.

This is a jazz record for people who think they don't like jazz -- as "Raising Sand" is a country record for people who think they don't like country.

BEN RATLIFF, NEW YORK TIMES