Kings of Leon
Only by the Night
(Sony BMG)
****

Over in the U.K., Kings of Leon might have headlined at Glastonbury this summer and packed Wembley Stadium, but on this side of the Atlantic, they’ve merely managed a promising blip on the radar screen.
All that should change with the release of Only by the Night — if this album doesn’t set rock radio on fire across the continent, there’s simply no hope. It’s a swaggering, sweltering rock record. The three Followill brothers and one Followill cousin warm up with “Closer,” Caleb’s vocals stretching atop waves of quivering guitar, as if he’s singing through clenched teeth. The album really gets moving with the single “Sex on Fire,” a wailing, pedal-to-the-metal, highway-driving song. “Use Somebody” pleads, Caleb holding on to each sentence for all it’s worth, only to finally gain traction as the drumbeats build into a distant echo. The boys end with “Cold Desert,” a southern heartbreaker — it’s the harsh light of day after a drunken night of rock ’n’ roll revelry. 
KATHLEEN BELL

New Kids on the Block
The Block
(Interscope)
*

The Kids are back for another trip around the Block after their 1994 breakup — and they’re sticking to their old formula. The lyrics still drip with pubescent pheromones and a sexual tension that screams “teenagers in heat.” This might have been erotic in 1987, but now they’re a bunch of 40 year-old men, which is just about as sexy as your weird uncle who likes to crash high school parties. Among the skeevy topics tackled on The Block are amateur pornography (“Click Click Click”) and humping the little girl next door who finally hit puberty (“Big Girl Now,” featuring Lady Gaga).
“Want to be a big girl you got to groove it/ With a body like that you’ve got a grown man ready to blow.” This album is as appealing as listening to Mr. Dressup rap about a three-way with Casey and Finnegan. Sorry, Donnie: I’ll take Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch any day of the week, if for no other reason than at least your little brother had the brains to recognize when his music career was over.
ANDREW PAUL

Hey Ocean!
It’s Easier To Be Somebody Else
(Pop Machine)
***

Normally it would be considered bad timing for an album as summer-friendly as Hey Ocean!’s It’s Easier to Be Somebody Else to be released just as September is swooping in and making everything all cold and windy, but in this post-Jack Johnson world, laid-back acoustic surf pop never goes out of season. Never. 
You already know if you’re going to like this record or not. It’s breezy, pleasant, and completely harmless, with tasteful horns and strings added as necessary, and while vocalists David Beckingham and Ashleigh Ball aren’t doing any heavy lifting here, they aren’t slouches either.
“Vagabond” gets an extra jump from a guest appearance by rapper Shad, but everything else just washes over you and gets instantly forgotten. If this album came on at a restaurant or in a car commercial, I wouldn’t have the slightest problem with it — but I’m not going to upload it to my computer, let alone put it on my iPod.
MICHAEL HINGSTON

Anthony and the Johnsons   
Another World
(Secretly Canadian)
****

Antony, sweet Antony Hegarty. He sure has been damn busy the last couple years. But who could care about all those side projects since he and The Johnsons were awarded the Mercury Prize in ’05 for the hands-down incredible album I Am a Bird Now? Any snippet of that voice will do. You know, that voice — the one that sounds kinda like a throaty soul singer, kinda like God speaking to you over a hollow, echoing radio, that voice that could sing you to sleep every night for the rest of your life — has been everywhere recently: on Hercules and Love Affair’s acclaimed debut album; on Björk’s latest single “The Dull Flame of Desire”; at Prada’s recent showing; on the soundtrack for Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There. I could go on...
In and around all that fluff, A & The J’s have been planning a January release for their next full-length: The Crying Light. This week’s release of Another World might be just a teaser five-track, but I’ll take what I can get. Some sparse piano and distant, wavering winds are all the accompaniment Antony needs to serenade you into his world, one where a girl floats on water in “Hope Mountain,” and where jazzy tinkering vocals help ease the pain of getting off the “Crackagen” (sounds like crack-again). “Shake the Devil” rolls from a quiet, hypnotic croon into a thumping pop-blues hollaback between Hegarty and a bassy sax. Shake it, shake that dog right outta the tree, baby. 
FAWNDA MITHRUSH