Hercules and Love Affair   
Hercules And Love Affair
(Mute)
Four 1/2 Stars
On the self-titled debut disc from the dance-music collective Hercules and Love Affair, DJ Andrew Butler’s yearning to return to the dark, glittery glory days of New York’s turn-of-the-’70s gay disco scene is nearly palpable—it’s there, woven into every sinuous bassline, every tautly layered trumpet solo, every hypnotic, metronomic keyboard riff. And whenever Antony Hegarty (from Antony and the Johnsons) steps behind the mic, you can feel the tips of Butler’s fingers miraculously making contact, however briefly, with the ecstasy of the past.
Few musical experiences this year can compare to hearing Hegarty’s
 spinetinglingly androgynous voice deliver a song like “Blind”—he captures the thrill of being transported high above your surroundings by a piece of music, but also the melancholy realization that you’ll only fall back to earth once the song is over. It’s like hearing Little Jimmy Scott reborn as a disco diva.
Despite some pacing problems in its middle third, Hercules and Love Affair is yet another triumph from the DFA record label, which continues to produce some of the most emotionally complicated dancefloor pop ever made. It’s Now, Voyager dance music: it’s music that can’t help but ask for the moon, even though it already has the stars.
PAUL MATWYCHUK

Lil Wayne
Tha Carter III
(Cash Money)
Four Stars

Lil Wayne’s new album is important for a few reasons. It’s the first hip-hop album since 2005 to sell more than a million copies in its first week, for one thing; but more importantly, it marks the fulfilment of a multi-year campaign to make Wayne’s self-appointed “best rapper alive” nickname stick. While it’s too early to say for sure whether it’s truly a classic, Tha Carter III is massive, intricate, and more often than not brilliant.
Songs like “Dr. Carter” and “La La” exude the swagger that’s earned Wayne a loyal following on the mixtape circuit; his rhymes bounce back and forth between being absolutely polished and almost sloppily off-the-cuff—usually in the same line. Nobody’s ever accused him of being modest, and you get the sense that when Jay-Z shows up on “Mr. Carter,” it’s mostly because Wayne wants to show off the kind of favours his high profile can afford. If and when Jay decides to make another comeback album, those circumstances may well be reversed.
MICHAEL HINGSTON

Duffy
Rockferry
(Mercury)
Four Stars
One thing I’ve always wanted to know: where do all the cute British accents go when U.K.-born songstresses like Duffy step up to the mic? On Duffy’s debut album Rockferry, it’s only the unsung whisper that starts off “Mercy” that exposes her Welsh heritage.
The rest of the time the young soul singer releases her sweet ’n’ sour vocals in a volley of heartbroken pop tirades, drenched to the
core in sorrow, but always backed by a sassy independent streak. If Amy Winehouse—the self-destrucive “soul-dier” of the latest British invasion—inexplicably attracts fans with songs that glorify her completely hopeless behaviour, then Duffy charms by singing about her own trials with pluck and self-possession.
But with a voice that sounds like she’s spent a lifetime pouring whiskey into her honey-lemon tea, she could sing about scones and listeners would still fall right into the recording.
Of course, it’s hard to say words like “scone” without throwing on a bit of a British accent. 
KATHLEEN BELL

Dan Tyminski
Wheels
(Rounder)
Three 1/2 Stars
Dan Tyminski is one of the world’s most acclaimed bluegrass artists—which means it’s fair to assume you’ve never heard of him. In addition to his impressive solo career, he’s had a longstanding position as guitarist in Alison Krauss & Union Station, and was the singing voice of George Clooney in O Brother, Where Art Thou?—his rendition of “Man of Constant Sorrow” even won a Grammy in 2001.
Wheels is Tyminski’s second solo album, coming eight years after the terrific Carry Me Across the Mountain. Yet where that album seemed to burst at the seams with his exuberant vocals and guitarwork, Wheels is more subdued, and it suffers because of it. “How Many Times” is the most notable exception, and ranks among the catchiest songs Tyminski has ever recorded, but there are a few too many mid-tempo banjo grooves here for my liking.
It might be an unfair standard to hold him to, but anything less than genius from Tyminski feels like a disappointment.
MICHAEL HINGSTON