POP/ROCK
The Script, "Science & Faith" (Epic)
Initially, it seems like a craven choice to shoehorn rock-baiting rapper B.o.B into "Walk Away," one of the catchier songs from the second album by the Script. Apart from one additional track, it's the only substantial difference between this album's U.S. release and its European version, which was a chart topper last year in Ireland, where this band hails from, and England, where it resides. But patching in a couple of mediocre moping verses from B.o.B is more in keeping with this gentle band's mode of operation than might be obvious. The Script -- Danny O'Donoghue, Mark Sheehan and Glen Power -- make anthemic soft rock, stuffed with swelling keyboards, guitar chords dragged out into oblivion and a heavy sense of regret. O'Donoghue is a tender, thin singer, restrained even when his feelings are at full bore.
But his brand of sensitivity is particularly loutish, and appealingly so. The best songs here sound as if members of toothless soft rockers such as the Fray or Augustana were fixing for a bar fight, maybe even one they could win. O'Donoghue's bravest choices on this album have to do with form, though, not content. Between his smooth lamentations, he slips into rapping, influenced more by singers such as Jason Mraz than by rappers. By those standards, O'Donoghue's more than competent, especially on "If You Ever Come Back" and "This (EQUAL) Love." For B.o.B, a rapper who fancies himself (wrongly, it should be said) as a singer, working with O'Donoghue must be like coming home.
JON CARAMANICA, NEW YORK TIMES
Wire, "Red Barked Tree" (Pink Flag)
In two short years and three albums spanning 1977-79, London's Wire did just about everything a band could do with punk, then added some more. Things haven't been the same since: Extended hiatuses and side projects are common, and original fourth member Bruce Gilbert has been absent since 2007. But on this, the band's 12th studio album, not much has changed, either. Wire stomps and grinds with a mechanical guitar-and-drum approach ("Moreover," "Smash") as easily as it veers off into a daydreaming atmosphere ("Down to This"). Here, though, the transitions and touches are more unexpected -- acoustic strumming on the title track; piano on "Adapt"; a pinch of New Order on "Bad Worn Thing." These surprises are what make "Red Barked Tree" oddly comfortable. Outside of the band's late-'70s trifecta, this is as good a place as any to start, or renew, a Wire fascination.
MICHAEL POLLOCK, PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER
Gregg Allman, "Low Country Blues" (Rounder)