Donwill is one-third of Cincinnati hip-hop outfit Tanya Morgan, and let me start off by saying that if you’ve been sleeping on these cats, you’re really blowing it. Intelligence, humor, Golden Era beats, cohesive theme albums — what more could a true-school rap fan ask for? How about this: Donwill has written his debut solo release from the perspective of John Cusack’s character in hipster cult classic High Fidelity, celebrating music snobbery, failed romance, and mid-life crises from a distinctly different urban viewpoint.

Don Cusack In High Fidelity opens with the hottest banger on the album, “Laura’s Song,” which pays head-over-heels homage to Donwill’s dream girl. After that, Don Cusack finds solace in laughter, recounting “Top 5 Breakups” and getting all synthesized on the tongue-in-cheek “Love Junkie.” Tanya Morgan cohorts Ilya and Von Pea appear as The Lessondary on “Championship Vinyl,” before Souls Of Mischief MC Opio plays the part of Donwill’s ex-girlfriend’s new lover (Tim Robbins in the movie for you cinema geeks) on “Ian’s Song” and Che Grand reprises Jack Black’s funnyman role on the quirky “Good.”

Don Cusack In High Fidelity’s press release states that Donwill’s solo album is “80% R&B,” but that underestimates the spot-on hip-hop emanating on “Leading Lady” and “Girl Girl.” Sure, “Shake It Easy” relies on a twinkling organ for its beat, and “Breathe” features the standard female hook, but we can all handle a little quiet storm every once in a while. After all, High Fidelity was all about unrequited love and emotional distress in the first place, making Don Cusack In High Fidelity one of the best hip-hop concept albums to appear in quite some time. A few more bangers like this and Donwill and Tanya Morgan might just take over the creative world. By Nick McGregor

Archie Bronson Outfit = “Are we not men? We are Devo!” + you just got out of some serious onshore dribble and your wettie has burst down the side seam of the leg, drudging your entire bottom half with a refreshing blast of cold brown saltwater while leaving you with the sad realization that you’ll have to buy another wetsuit + a deep-rooted dream sequence carrying the weight of all your problems where you’re 44, dressed as a pineapple, and working for a frozen daiquiri drive-thru, trying to decide whether to be a successful artist or an astronaut once you get accepted to Yale.

The gaze on your face is intent as you navigate and listen to Archie Bronson Outfit’s third album turned up loud, pulsing a palm on the dash as lead vocalist/guitarist Sam Windett tells you with his own skills not to sing along, but rather just enjoy. Coconut, which also happens to be my niece’s name, is rambunctious and bubbly — so is she. It was made in England by three friends from Bath — she was not. She has a toddler mullet — the blokes in Archie Bronson Outfit may have adult ones.

Dorian Hobday scales trees and plucks fruit with the neck of his bass. Individually, they fall plopping into the stagnant water of the Thames, kiwi, pomegranates, oranges, grapefruit, melons. Drummer Mark “Arp” Cleveland smashes them, with love not anger. His snare slices everyone their vitamin-enriched lunch. Down from parliament paddles their discovery and their obscurity is short. After four years, Archie Bronson Outfit release three albums on acclaimed label Domino, and the result is London impressionist perfection — blurry, polar, strong. Someone needs to do something smooth and revolutionary while Archie Bronson Outfit soundtracks the images. By William Port Whiles   

Brooklyn indie rock quartet Via Audio start their sophomore release Animalore off with a crisp, languid guitar ‘n’ bass riff on “Hello” that speaks volumes about the album’s production, handled by celebrated knob-turner Jim Eno of Spoon. Jessica Martins’ cloying vocals slither around the sparse opener, creating a cool and almost disconnected atmosphere that carries throughout the record. We often think overblown theatrics are necessary to set yourself apart from the crowd, but Via Audio proves that mantra wrong.

Although electro-pop smiles on “Goldrush” and glitch-rock grooves on “Babies” are pleasant to the ear, the consistently subdued nature of Animalore comes off as Grizzly Bear-lite and tends to overtake Via Audio’s accomplished, Berklee-schooled chops. The only tracks that match the album’s animalistic title come on the jazzy, keyboard-anchored “Tigers” and the splendid uptempo guitar crunch of “Lizard Song,” which starts and stops with feverish passion and is easily the highlight of the 36-minute set. In between those tracks is another gem, “Wanted,” a shambling ‘60s adventure that snaps, crackles, and pops with pedal steel guitar and snare drum brush strokes. 

Via Audio does take some misguided journeys, most notably on synthesized Krautrock mash-up “Digital,” but that stumble is quickly rectified by the AM radio/ piano workout “Summer Stars.” And surprisingly, dusty acoustic guitars on “Oh Blah Wee” and “Olga” call to mind Elliott Smith’s breathy minor-key beauty mixed with Wilco’s grinning alt-country optimism, before closer “Happening” brings Via Audio full circle, taking the band from studio saturation to warm, organic joy. Martins’ bright voice leads the song into group-chorus territory, stomping drums build up to a feel-good climax, and Animalore marches offstage with good fortune trailing quickly behind. By Nick McGregor

Seattle’s Mighty Tiger have one thing going for them above and beyond their Washington State brethren: instead of gloomy grunge or tortured emo hipsterdom, this five-piece traffics in exciting dance rock, fun-loving vocal harmonies, and even bright, sunny pop, allowing a little light into their usually dark corner of the Pacific Northwest.

The band’s debut album Western Theater kicks off with “Voyeur Heaven,” a pulsating combination of electronic blips and shimmying drums that resembles a spot-on Animal Collective B-side. “Rook To King” and “The Last Mountaineer” downshift into folkie terra firma, hitting solidly dusty west coast notes along the way, and “33 1/3” is the stunner of the bunch, nostalgic pianos and falsetto vocals paying tribute to vinyl’s endless ability to charm and enchant.

The middle of Mighty Tiger’s magnum opus lags a bit, as the five-minute “Signature Cup” and the seven-minute Crosby, Stills & Nash-like epic “The Most American Thing In America” both waste too much time getting off the ground. But echoed banjos on “Chibi Girl” and reverbed effects on “Ecto Cooler” hit their mark quickly, proving that Mighty Tiger can handle sugary pop and Southern Gothic equally well. And when “Your Company” goes percussion-crazy, the end result comes off a little like The Dodos. Overall, Western Theater’s sun-baked psychedelia and ‘60s-influenced pop sounds nice enough; as Mighty Tiger grows into their songwriting chops, though, we should see more promising and original results in the future. By Nick McGregor