Bat For Lashes, Two Suns (Astralwerks) On the heels of her engrossing 2006 debut Fur and Gold, Natasha Khan (best known by her stage pseudonym Bat For Lashes) returns with the rhythmically complex Two Suns, which signals her daring sonic transition from goth-pop indie darling to high-concept sorceress. As she tells it, the album channels two distinct personae: there’s Natasha and the less-earthy Pearl. Unfortunately, neither of these narrative voices is particularly distinct. With the exception of “Pearl’s Dream,” they’re almost indistinguishable. Still, Two Suns brims with warm, burbling electronics (“Daniel”), delicious psychedelic piano pounding (“Siren Song”) and enough indelible melodies to forgive all that torpid mysticism. —Brian Orloff

Metric, Fantasies (Metric Music) Singer-songwriter Emily Haines isn’t joking when, on “Help, I’m Alive,” she moans, oh so feather-lightly, “If I stumble, they’re gonna eat me alive.” After the release of Live it Out, the band’s 2005 foray into harder rock—which proved more critically divisive than a Björk movie—Metric needed a strong comeback. And on their fourth studio album, Fantasies, Haines and company deliver. It’s a heady mix of early ’90s petulance (“Stadium Love”) and that inimitable female voice, a fractured, soaring shard of emotion turned sonic (“Collect Call”). Appropriately, the whole thing sounds like an army of goose bumps cascading into battle. —Nick Haramis

Thunderheist, Thunderheist (Big Dada) When M.I.A. and her rapper friends boasted that no one on the corner had swagger like them, they obviously hadn’t yet heard of Toronto-based digital duo Thunderheist. On their eponymous debut album, MC Isis cuts across DJ Grahm Zilla’s slinky, synth-laced beats like a jungle cat on the prowl, ready to pounce. Her rhymes knock listeners across the cheek when Isis raps, “You float like a butterfly and smack like Ali.” The Ancient Egyptian goddess tends to repeat nonsensical lyrics—“shimmy shimmy cocoa puffs”—ad nauseam for the sake of continuity, but it’s all with the intention of making crowds bounce. Rave-rap, booty-house, neo-electro—call it what you want, but this is ISCM at its best: Intelligent Strip Club Music. —Ben Barna

The Juan MacLean, The Future Will Come (DFA) The future is here, and it sounds like yesterday—circa 1983, filtered through the prism of dance-music maverick John MacLean, otherwise known as The Juan MacLean. On his second album of skewed synth-retro-nica, MacLean brings frequent collaborator (and sometime LCD Soundsystem member) Nancy Whang to the forefront. The result suggests Sonny and Cher taken to a robotic extreme, or “Don’t You Want Me”–era Human League given a punk-funk, neo-Moroder mutation. Their computer love proves hypnotic, funny and infectious. —Matt Diehl

The Whip, X Marks Destination (Razor & Tie) The debut long player from this Manchester foursome is a solid effort, but don’t expect it to change the sound of music. Tracks veer dangerously close to commercial-music licensing territory with their repetitive, guitar-laced synths and one–two drum kicks—the stuff ad-exec dreams are made of. Lead singer Bruce Carter’s raspy, navel-gazing lyrics line blip-loaded, polished, Velcro®-catchy dance-rock. “Can you hear me underground?” Carter asks on the epic album closer “Dubsex.” Probably not, kids, but who needs the underground when you’ve got money in the bank? —Foster Kamer

MSTRKRFT, Fist of God (Dim Mak/Downtown Records) On their follow-up to 2006’s The Looks, Jesse Keeler (onetime bassist for Death From Above 1979) and AI-P (Alex Puodziukas) dust off the vocoder and synth factory for another go at electronic experimentation. This time, MSTRKRFT put their best fist forward, collaborating with hip-hop heavyweights like E40 and Ghostface Killah, in an admirable—and successful—attempt to get crowds shaking. Standout tracks from the Toronto–based duo are, surprisingly, “It Ain’t Love” featuring Lil’ Mo and “Heartbreaker” with John Legend. Ultimately, though, these songs sound more like R&B remixes than proper disco house-bangers with strong vocal backing. —Eiseley Tauginas

Neko Case, Middle Cyclone (Anti-) On her eighth solo album, Neko Case holes up in a 200-year-old farmhouse in rural Vermont, where a cast of friends—including the New Pornographers, Calexico and M. Ward—help to weave her familiar tapestry of earnest Americana. As with 2006’s Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, the scarlet lady of letters proves to be a master raconteur, her narrative wavering between whimsy on “This Tornado Loves You” and austerity, as seen on the expansive track “Red Tide.” Sweeping piano orchestras only add to the melodic breeze found on “Polar Nettles” and “Don’t Forget Me,” which dissolves into an ambient, frog-chorus ending courtesy of Case’s backyard pond—proof that there really is no place like home. —Cayte Grieve