The Books
The Way Out
(Temporary Residence)

The Books are practically their own genre. The duo employs spoken-word samples, electronic textures, an array of live instruments, and vocals to create a sonic patchwork that combines classical minimalism, electronica, folk and funk. Their latest album draws on vintage self-hypnosis, meditation, and self-help tapes to fashion mesmerizing tracks like “Group Autogenics I” and “Chain of Missing Links.” The duo also shows off subversive humor with the gleefully stuttering samples of “I Didn’t Know That” and frenetically percussive “A Cold Freezing Night,” which focuses on the playground taunts of children. Although The Way Out is largely successful in its own right, the band’s live show is the best way to experience them. It’s a multimedia experience that includes wonderfully idiosyncratic films created to accompany each song, adding a key layer to the band’s unique sound.  —Jeff Jackson

Guster
Easy Wonderful
(Aware/Universal Republic)

On their latest album, and first release in nearly four years, these boys from Tufts appear ready to embrace maturity. Fatherhood will do that to a guy, though few new dads can also brag about creating a record with foundations in both pop sensibility and religious faith. Here, tracks like “Bad Bad World” and “This Could All Be Yours” showcase the band’s ragged optimism; the latter even pulls double duty as a rousing arena sing-along, complete with shuffling acoustic intro and pedal steel solo. Elsewhere, experimentation is highlighted. Clever synthesizer and electric guitar work dominates closer “Do What You Want.” Most other songs feature the reliable formula of vocal harmony and percussion, but lyrically the outlook appears much brighter than in years past. Growing up isn’t the easiest thing to do, but Guster succeed in painting a promising picture of the future. —Michael Cimaomo

Wax
Melted
(Lightyear)

Wax’s music is like a missing link in the evolution of pop, and this live-in-the-studio recording apparently languished in some vault in the band’s native Philadelphia for nearly 40 years, only unearthed after a reunion gathering prompted by bassist Beau Jones’ recent cancer diagnosis. The album is a quintessential piece of connective tissue linking late ’60s pop phenomena like CSNY and Elton John to the sprouts of full-on ’70s prog-rock: ELP, early Doobie Brothers, Yes and Queen. Yet it still retains jammy guitar and piano elements a la The Allman Brothers. Most notable is that Melted places its recording dates in “May, 1971,” a full six months before the release of Traffic’s Low Spark of High-heeled Boys, which, until I dug deep enough to discover this, I would have pointed to as the record’s overwhelmingly dominant influence. An absolutely fascinating gem of musical history.  —Tom Sturm