Joan Jett and the Blackhearts - “Sinner” - 4 stars

Joan Jett kicks off her first record in a dozen years with a song that’s as current as the headlines. “Riddles” is a protest song complete with bumbling soundbites from Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld and President Bush that leaves no doubt as to where she stands on everything from the war in Iraq to No Child Left Behind while grabbing the ear with a great hook.

Then she and the Blackhearts proceed to riff and rock their way through 13 more songs that establish once and for all that not only does Jett love rock ’n’ roll, she does it as well as anybody.

There’s nothing particularly new in Jett’s sound. Those who discovered her music in the ’80s will find the melodic, hook-filled songs here reassuringly familiar. But Jett’s classic sound has never sounded dated. Such is the case with “Sinner,” which ranges from the screaming rock of “Tube Talkin’” to the ballad “Watersign” on which she’s joined by one of her girl rock proteges, Bikini Kill’s Kathleen Hanna.

One of the greatest cover artists in rock ’n’ roll history, Jett takes on  Sweet’s “AC/DC” and a swinging acoustic version of Paul Westerberg’s “Androgynous” on “Sinner.” Those tunes link Jett to her early love of glam rock and to one of her late ’80s collaborators. But they’re also part of one of the themes of “Sinner” that also includes the ringing midtempo story of “Baby Blue,” a “switch hitter who plays the field.”

Jett’s frank look at sexuality continues on “Fetish,” a snarling rocker about latex and rough sex that appeared on a previous, poorly distributed record. The disc also includes tracks from sessions with producer Ted Templeman. But even though it was assembled over a period of years, “Sinner” has a cohesive power.

I wouldn’t expect anything less from Jett and her longtime producer/creative partner Kenny Laguna.

Jett and the Blackhearts are part of this summer’s Vans Warped Tour. You can bet you’ll hear some material from “Sinner” along with Jett’s hits. And after you hear it, you’ll want to buy it. It rocks.

— L. Kent Wolgamott

GZO

Wax Tailor - “Tales of the Forgotten Melodies” - 3 stars

Sampling everyone from Woody Allen to Digital Underground’s “Humpty Hump,” the awkwardly titled “Tales of the Forgotten Melodies” is the work of Frenchman JC Le Saout, whose crafty collages are akin to the work of such mixmasters as DJ Shadow and Prince Paul. Wax Tailor’s custom-made cuts incorporate old-school rap (with the help of American hip-hoppers The Others), down-tempo jazz and a beat-savvy remake of Doris Day’s “Que Sera Sera.” “Tales” overdoes the B-movie sound bytes, but succeeds as that rare genre-hopping cut-and-paste exercise that holds together as a cinematic whole.

— Dan DeLuca

Knight Ridder Newspapers

Keane - “Under the Iron Sea” - 2½ starsWithout my sounding much like Dennis Hopper’s bogeyman from “Blue Velvet,” Keane is suave.

 

The plaintive still life of pounded pianos and darkly layered electronics winding through grand arching chords that reach between the diabolical and the glorious — that’s suave.

Tom Chapin’s chilled rich baritone is suave, even if his lyrics — joyous, brooding — are mawkish.

Yet, with the exception of Noel Coward musicals and the second Roxy Music album, being suave in pop can be an empty exercise. You keep waiting for the hot, emotional payoff to the snappy (even classy) “Crystal Blue” and the overly languid, solipsistic “Nothing in My Way.” But nothing comes.

Lots of nothing.

Not always, mind you. The Edge-meets-Bowie sunburst of guitar and drama that is “Is It Any Wonder” is royal and kinetic. “Broken Toy” is dry and spacey. Chapin’s croon yearns to churn. But despite its vocals and some gorgeously straining strains, this “Sea” is hermetically sealed by a dam content not to burst. Yet.

— A.D. Amorosi

Knight Ridder Newspapers

COUNTRY/ROOTS

Julie Roberts - “Men and Mascara” - 4 stars

Julie Roberts’ 2004 debut was a stunner, a sultry, understated gem that went against the grain of Nashville homogenization. This sophomore effort tweaks her approach in a more commercial direction — the sound is more electric, the choruses more assertively muscular. But you know what? It’s an even better album.

The essence of Roberts’ artistry remains intact, as her smoky South Carolina drawl plays against taut, unvarnished country arrangements. Like the music, the top-shelf songs don’t offer any sugarcoating — “Men and mascara always run,” she sings on the title song, one of the album’s many memorable images. There are no “happy” tunes here amid a ton of man trouble; but from facing up to her weakness in “Chasin’ Whiskey” to spitting out a defiant kiss-off in “First to Never Know,” Roberts is a full-blooded, utterly real woman delivering one killer cut after another.

— Nick Cristiano

Knight Ridder Newspapers