POP/ROCK: John Mayer, "Born and Raised" (Columbia)
Back after a self-damaging round of publicity two years ago, Mayer has plumbed the depths of his broken soul, returning with lessons in song. So goes the irresistible subtext of his fifth studio album. Produced with Don Was, a veteran rock 'n' roll ego whisperer, it swaps out his usual airtight gleam for a meaningful touch of Laurel Canyon folk-rock. The opening track, "Queen of California," name-checks early 1970s landmarks by Neil Young and Joni Mitchell over an easeful groove cribbed from the Grateful Dead. The title track, about owning up to the passage of time, has background vocals by David Crosby and Graham Nash. This is an album of dual impulse, in other words, an attempt to turn back the clock while moving forward. One of the strangest and most affecting songs is "Walt Grace's Submarine Test, January 1967," about a basement tinkerer who set off in a homemade submersible despite the advice of everyone close to him. Mayer unravels the tale dispassionately, although it's not hard to see his investment in it: the solitude, the skepticism, the perilous depths. And eventually, against long odds, coming up for a new lungful of air. -NATE CHINEN, NEW YORK TIMES
POP/ROCK: Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros, "Here" (Community Music/Vagrant)
"Edward Sharpe" is less a person than a lofty, goofy concept, a messiahlike creation of singer/lyricist/front man Alex Ebert, designed to heal the world when he's not busy picking up girls. Despite Ebert's leadership, there's a communal vibe around the Los Angeles canyon-based 10-person-plus Zeros and its loose-knit brand of jam-band jive and freak folk. The wily joy announces itself loudly on the gospel-tinged "Man on Fire," a powerfully snorting, holy-rolling pop-rocker with a deliciously soulful voice at its center. "I Don't Wanna Pray" also benefits from the band's lilting predilection for groovy gospel, and Ebert's smooth vocal swagger on "Fiya Wata" is bluer than blue and densely arranged. "Here" is weird jam-folk of the highest order, filled with happy hippie cheer ("That's What's Up"), doe-eyed tenderness ("Child") and lushly gorgeous melody ("All Wash Out"). -A.D. AMOROSI, PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER
POP/ROCK: Garbage, "Not Your Kind of People" (Stunvolume)
Everything that made Garbage great from its inception in the '90s remains on the electro rock quartet's first release in seven years. Superwoman singer Shirley Manson is still capable of pivoting from a menacing whisper to a pained wail in the space of a single bar, and the band's seamless stitching together of electronic blurts, rock 'n' roll attitude and pop craftsmanship is still the core mission. When all of it works in perfect synch, the record hits a sweet spot that is nostalgic and completely contemporary, illuminating how forward-looking the cross-continental collaborators were at their peak. -SARAH RODMAN, BOSTON GLOBE
