There was a backlash against Laurie Anderson in "serious" musical and artistic circles after the completely unexpected mainstream commercial success of her debut album, Big Science. (The eight-plus-minute single "O Superman" was a chart hit in England, unbelievably enough.) A fair listen to Big Science leaves the impression that jealousy must have been at the root of the reception because Big Science is in no way a commercial sellout. A thoughtful and often hilariously funny collection of songs from Anderson's work in progress, United States I-IV, Big Science works both as a preview of the larger work and on its own merits. Opening with the hypnotic art rock of "From the Air," in which an airline pilot casually mentions that he's a caveman to a cyclical melody played in unison by a three-part reeds section, and the strangely beautiful title track…

1986's Home of the Brave is the soundtrack to a film consisting of live pieces debuted during Laurie Anderson's first world tour, promoting 1984's Mister Heartbreak. Only one song from that album, a radically reworked version of the William S. Burroughs cameo "Sharkey's Night," appears here; the rest of the album is something of a return to the performance art basis of Anderson's earlier work like Big Science and United States I-IV. As a result, Home of the Brave has an oddly reheated quality to it, as if Anderson is merely going through the motions of what had gone before while incorporating snatches of the new, more musical direction she had begun exploring with Mister Heartbreak. (Even the title is a self-conscious echo of United States I-IV.) There are some successes here - "Language Is a Virus" is probably the closest Anderson ever came to a real rock song, and it was a minor dancefloor and college radio hit…

To confuse parts for the whole is inevitable with Palm. On their latest effort, Nicks and Grazes, Palm embrace discordance to dazzling effect. “We wanted to reconcile two potentially opposing aesthetics,” Kasra Kurt of the band says. “To capture the spontaneous, free energy of our live shows while integrating elements from the traditionally gridded palette of electronic music.”

Of all the strange records this French vanguard pop chanteuse ever recorded, this 1971 collaboration between the teams of Brigitte Fontaine and her songwriting partner Areski and the Art Ensemble of Chicago - who were beginning to think about returning to the United States after a two-year stay - is the strangest and easily most satisfying. While Fontaine's records could be beguiling with their innovation, they occasionally faltered by erring on the side of gimmickry and cuteness. Here, the Art Ensemble provide the perfect mysterious and ethereal backdrop for her vocal explorations. Featuring the entire Art Ensemble of that time period and including fellow Chicago AACM member Leo Smith on second trumpet, Fontaine and Areski stretched the very notion of what pop had been and could be…

There's a cult of Meet Danny Wilson lovers and if you ever ask them about the album, a Steely Dan comparison is bound to come up. It's not without merit, and considering that the other bands the album might remind you of – Deacon Blue and Fairground Attraction – aren't on the tip of much of anyone's tongue, Steely Dan is at close as it comes. But the Dan never sounded this lively, this exuberant, this finger-snapping. If that makes them sound light as feather, keep in mind that Lloyd Cole loves this record. Head songwriter Gary Clark shares some of Cole's love of literate and clever lyrics that fit just right with the notes they land on, but he prefers a horn-section blast to Cole's guitar jangle (plus Clark has more Jimmy Van Heusen records than Cole does, no doubt). The sweet "Mary's Prayer" is the almost-hit, barely making enough impact to call the band a one-hit wonder. It's only part of the story for an album that effortlessly hurls clever arrangements and lyrical stingers out of the speakers. Opening with the syncopated and humble "Davy" and then switching to the Vegas hipster, Bobby Darin-for-the-'80s "Aberdeen" makes for a killer opening, and the album keeps minding the pace.

The fifth "Switched On" volume from Stereolab yet again sweeps up a bunch of their rarest releases, throwing them together with a few unreleased tracks for good measure. This one's especially worth a peek, including Autechre's genius remix of 'Refractions in the Plastic Pulse' and Stereolab's second lengthy collab with Nurse With Wound.