Black Francis
The Golem
(The Bureau)

Of late, the man who most recently has performed as Frank Black has been trying on his former moniker, Black Francis, which he wore in days of yore when he was the Pixies frontman. As Francis, he writes edgier, punkier, and downright weirder tunes, but the recent albums under this byline have been more interesting than fun. His new rock opera The Golem fixes all that, and offers an album worthy of sitting alongside Black Francis’ earlier efforts. Written originally as a longer work to accompany the classic silent German film of the same title, this well-honed song cycle is full of alchemy, dieties and monsters—topics familiar to the man who once howled, “…then God is seven!” The story tells of a clay monster brought to life to defend a people, but who is led astray by a master with a personal agenda. Black Francis gives the topic a Ziggy Stardust touch.  —Mark Roessler

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Warpaint
The Fool
(Rough Trade)

Existing somewhere between a daydream and a nightmare, the debut album by this all-female, Los Angeles-based quartet is a languid bringer of menace. Track after track bubbles up from the depths fully-formed with vocals cooing from what sounds like a forgotten well. Lost in the sinister echo, drums and bass rumble in the distance but add more atmosphere than true drive. The same goes for the occasional piano, which, while clearer in the mix on certain songs, acts less like a rhythm instrument than a mood stimulant. Elsewhere, fractured guitar lines and electronic touches add to the hypnotic nature of the record, trembling alongside lyrics about “undertows,” “walking through fire,” and “keeping one’s composure.” Still, the act has made its name based on a series of haunting live gigs, and the overall effect seems to lose a step or two without the accompanying visuals. —Michael Cimaomo

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Shelley Lubben
Truth Behind the Fantasy of Porn
(Pink Cross Foundation)

There are some genuinely sad truths about this ex-porn actress turned rapper who says she was molested at age nine, then lived a life of drugs, porn and general escapism, but hip-hop may not be the ideal forum for her personal crusade to expose the industry as one that’s less than scrupulous. The lyrics quote statistics about AIDS and STDs, drug addiction, prostitution, suicides and histories of childhood abuse, and while that’s all fine, it’s not exactly a revelation. One might as well write about how people get killed in wars or how people who drive too fast get into accidents; if encountering such realities in the porn biz was a surprise, well, I guess being naive isn’t a crime. The production and backing vox are pretty pro, but the album quickly degenerates into an advertisement for the Pink Cross Foundation, Lubben’s Jesus-flavored non-profit, which, according to some critics, makes her a fairly decent living. —Tom Sturm