Nihilistic, harmonic, apocalyptic.

The new Swearin' album is out. (Insert bleepity bleepin' joke here.) "Surfing Strange" is less speed, more shoe-gaze splendor than their last album. Plus, they've added a new voice for a grand total of three vocalists (what are they, Fleetwood Mac?). Bassist Keith Spencer takes the mic for the first time, with admittedly mixed results. ("Glare of the Sun": awesome. "Melanoma": meh.) Swearin' seems to be garnering some criticism for taking their sound in a more down-tempo direction. To me, it seems like solid growth and evolution for a band who was great to begin with.

We must discuss Janelle Monae. First, she's originally from Kansas City, Kansas. (Affectionately known as KCK out in these parts.) Secondly, her trademark suits are an homage to the uniforms worn by the blue-collar family members who raised her. Third, girl can DANCE. This probably shouldn't come into play on a music blog, but having just seen her live, I feel the need to mention it. And we haven't even discussed her droid obsession. Lastly, have you heard her sing? Because hot damn! (In retrospect, this really should be firstly.) This here is a living legend—on par with Prince (a personal champion of hers) and Stevie Wonder ("Electric Lady" is very reminiscent of "Inner Visions" in its range and its downright funkiness). If you miss her, you will regret it.

"OK, I think by now we've established/ that everything is inherently worthless/ then there's nothing in the universe/ with any kind of objective purpose..." So begins "Local Business" from Jersey-based Titus Andronicus, an album of raw emotion with lyrics that are intensely confessional and, at times, hard to hear. Lead singer Patrick Stickles suffers from an eating disorder, a theme he candidly discusses here. As shades of Joe Strummer fade into nods to Black Flag, you'll get the sense that you're listening to a band who, while lyrically confessing to not believing in anything, is obviously of a mind that music can change the world. At least on a local level.

Dale Earnhardt Jr Jr has a name that might make you want to throw something, either because it looks like a typo or because, you know...hipsters. And perhaps you've avoided them up till now solely based upon the "double jr." (I did, until I received a recommendation.) But people: please listen to "The Speed of Things." It's a bit Beach-Boys-ish in its sweet Hubba-Bubba-esque melodies, while the synths remind me of the Postal Service. Yet the whole arrangement, while incredibly accessible, is also pretty complex upon closer inspection. And the harmonies are something I think even crazy old Brian Wilson would smile about.