POP/ROCK

Daft Punk, "Random Access Memories" (Columbia)

For a sense of the random oddities that dot Daft Punk's strange, funky, cosmic fourth album, consider a partial discography of the musicians employed by the two Frenchmen in service of its creation: Michael Jackson, Jim Henson and Miles Davis, among others.

"Random Access Memories," in all its disco-obsessed, historically accurate glory, confirms that Daft Punk, the biggest name in the now-peaking electronic dance music, cares little about expectations. Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo have delivered an analog love letter to another era and have done so not as heartless androids or "superstar DJs" but as two humans filled with the spirit of music, a touch of nostalgia and a desire for honest creation — who just happen to wear robot helmets.

"Random Access Memories" will be polarizing. If you hate disco and the notion of a synthesized voice uttering emo lyrics, move along without comment. You'll only get angrier as the 70-plus-minute album progresses.

For people who lived through or have internalized electronic dance music's evolution and permutations or simply like cool electronic rock songs that you can dance to, though, the record might strike a human nerve. For me, it feels brave, focused, dynamic and incredibly accomplished.

"Giorgio by Moroder" is fueled by Moroder's voice recalling his early years in Berlin. The haunting "Touch," featuring songwriter Paul Williams ("Rainbow Connection," "Rainy Days and Mondays"), feels like a digitized pop interpretation of a Scott Walker dirge. The instrumental "Motherboard" thrives via percussionist Omar Hakim, and feels like a rocket-propelled adaptation of his work with fusion-era Davis.

Demi Lovato's "Demi"

This album features disco, robotic voices, catchy Niles Rodgers guitar lines and beautiful Pharell Williams falsetto runs. Moments are moments whether they remind you of the past or suggest a future. Daft Punk caught both.

Randall Roberts, Los Angeles Times

Demi Lovato, "Demi" (Hollywood)

Lovato's first two albums were unexpected triumphs from the Disney factory, offering an independent-minded, refreshingly guilt-free take on teen pop. On "Demi," the "X Factor" judge sounds like she's trying to make up for lost time by dumbing down and eradicating whatever personality she can. Her voice, once a Kelly Clarkson blowtorch set to low, is now a Katy Perry arc welder, and she blatantly pillages Top 40 radio.

"Something That We're Not" — a Ke$ha-lite reality-check to a guy who's gotten too attached — is kicky and spirited, but "Neon Lights" unimaginatively apes the club-pop rush of Taio Cruz and Rihanna, and the dubstep breakdown in "Never Been Hurt" seems to be there only because it worked for Taylor Swift. The you'll-never-break-me ballad "Warrior" copies Lovato's own "Skyscraper," replacing an intriguingly idiosyncratic metaphor with a dully basic one. "Demi" sounds like Lovato's grasping for hits, when she used to sound like she was making music and having fun.

Marc Hirsh, Boston Globe