POP/ROCK

Gang of Four, "Content" (Yep Roc)

Gang of Four arrived in the late 1970s with harshly danceable songs that depicted human relationships turning into commodities. Its jagged, sometimes virtually atonal grooves still echo through everything now called post-punk. And its lyrics, which at the time sounded dourly materialistic, grew all too prophetic for an era when corporations tally up their Facebook "likes" online, and athletes, musicians and people writing personal ads all treat themselves as brand names with images to protect.

Gang of Four lost its initial momentum with a career that straggled into the 1990s as the band tried slicker, more electronic pop and dance music. A 2004 reunion of the original 1970s lineup led to touring but no new finished songs. Now, on their first album in 16 years, Gang of Four's songwriters -- lead singer John King and guitarist Andy Gill -- have a new rhythm section. And they have reclaimed, with a vengeance, their old attack.

Once again, Gang of Four delivers a raw, syncopated wallop. Punk, funk and reggae contribute to the sound -- along with hints of math-rock, Jimi Hendrix and David Bowie -- only to get caught up in the music's precise melee. The production on "Content" isn't as stark as it was on Gang of Four's 1979 masterpiece, "Entertainment"; there's more resonance and more willingness to overdub. But the effect is just as brawny and combative.

The lyrics stay hard-nosed. The punky "Never Pay for the Farm" obliquely blasts the bankers behind the financial meltdown -- and "Do as I Say" considers authority and interrogations, from the Inquisition to Guantanamo. Other songs look at characters enmeshed in commerce or consoling themselves with digital-era flirtations. The album's one relative respite, "A Fruitfly in the Beehive," wonders, "Where are we headed for?/For a distant shore or some brand-new war?" Gang of Four has girded itself for both possibilities.

Gang of Four performs Feb. 12 at First Avenue.

JON PARELES, NEW YORK TIMES

Amanda Palmer, "Amanda Palmer Goes Down Under" (Liberator)

Since her hiatus from cabaret-punk's Dresden Dolls, the happily histrionic chanteuse/pianist has worked hard at independence, recording oddities such as an EP of Radiohead hits on ukulele, as well this new tribute to things antipodean.

It might seem self-indulgent, an album of Aussie covers (a rendition of Nick Cave's "The Ship Song" is more dramatic than his) and Palmer songs written about (or while in) Australia, New Zealand and Tasmania. But self-indulgence is the point. As an unchecked id, Palmer is a marvel. Her strong, achy-breaky trill makes her tour-guide songs lusty and her paeans to Vegemite bracing. The electro-glam "Map of Tasmania" is full of silly, sexy double entendres, and "In My Mind" (featuring Dresden partner Brian Viglione) sounds like a promise that the next Dresden Dolls effort will be slyer and more emotive than anything in the duo's past.

A.D. AMOROSI, PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER