CD reviews

CD REVIEWS POP/ROCK

The Raconteurs, "Consolers of the Lonely"

(Third Man/Warner Bros.)

Finished the first week in March, the Raconteurs' boisterous second album arrives virtually fresh from the studio. The songs are tautly constructed; some, such as "Rich Kid Blues," "These Stones Will Shout" and "Consoler of the Lonely," leap suddenly from riff to riff. And there's nothing sloppy about the band, which keeps dynamics and details in mind even when it's bashing away. Yet the Raconteurs sound as if they could go off the rails at any second.

The vocals verge on mania; the guitars and keyboards thrive on distortion, and Jack White whoops and hollers through many of the tracks. He and Brendan Benson have all but set aside the conundrums they sang about on the Raconteurs' debut album. The new songs are about lovers' breakups and other agitated mental states: insecurity ("Salute Your Solution"), imprisonment ("Hold Up"), obsession ("Attention") and show business ("Five on the Five").

The Raconteurs have plunged fully into their chosen era of vintage rock, 1965-75, sounding less self-consciously retro than they did on their debut. While they gleefully sock out garage-rock riffs, they also allude to Neil Young, the Rolling Stones, the Who, Led Zeppelin, even the Beatles for patches of harmony in "You Don't Understand Me." They get down-home and bluesy, with slide guitar and banjo, in "Top Yourself." They try something like soul in "Many Shades of Black," and they move toward spaghetti-western rock with horns for a snakebitten desert fable, "The Switch and the Spur."

The Raconteurs are singing, more often than not, about desperate characters. But that desperation only makes the crunch of the music more euphoric. 5311

JON PARELES, New York Times

Panic at the Disco, "Pretty.Odd." (Decaydance)

When last we saw Panic! At the Disco, it was all about hyper-literate emo, circus imagery, guyliner, closing doors and that ever-crucial exclamation point. For its second album, the Las Vegas quartet has dropped the exclamation point and seemingly turned into a completely different band, one with well-crafted songs steeped in Beatles grandeur, Beach Boys harmonies and other pleasantly surprising ambitions. Aside from Brendon Urie's distinctive vocals -- bolstered by new harmonies and less-frantic phrasing -- nearly nothing remains from the band's multiplatinum debut. The Beatlesque first single "Nine in the Afternoon," with its horn flourishes and a streamlined hook, was no fluke. There's a New Orleans jazz feel to "I Have Friends in Holy Places"; "Folkin' Around" sounds like a countrified "I've Just Seen a Face," and there are loads of gorgeous pop songs, including "Northern Downpour," an acoustic gem that sounds like Panic's take on a "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" ballad.

Like its mentors Fall Out Boy, Panic has taken a quantum leap forward in ambition and execution. This is a sophomore smash to be proud of. 5312

GLENN GAMBOA, NEWSDAY

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