Further complications indeed. On his second solo effort, Jarvis Cocker continues to explore the alienation and lack of romantic fulfillment that have preoccupied the man since his days with Pulp. He may as well call the album “here we go again”. Nonetheless, a more focused production and strong set of songs make this album a welcome addition to the Cocker catalog.

The album is produced by Steve Albini. This would be shocking given the seeming opposition between Cocker’s heart-on-his-sleeve vulnerability and Albini’s your-heart-in-my-fist aggressiveness except that we all know Albini will take just about any production gig sent his way. I swear, the man’s a year away from producing Clay Aiken.

Albini’s production is typically lean, raw and crisp. Cocker croons, snarls and provides some lovely background vox to compliment himself. This is the only way in which he compliments himself, as the lyrics are consistently self-deprecating. Cocker wants to be your lover, he know it won’t happen and that’s lucky for you because he’s about as virile as Leonard Nimoy.

The albums highlight is it’s closing track, “You’re In My Eyes (Discosong)”. It’s got the kind of lush, dancey feel that fulfills the promise of Cocker’s Gainsbourg-meets-Bowie delivery. It’s so good, you might just start the album over again once the song is over.

For over thirty years, Robyn Hitchcock has been cranking out album after album of superb psych-pop. Describing the stylistic elements on his latest is like describing the man’s career. It is at various points rocking, folky and pastoral. As usual, it’s a great set of songs performed wonderfully. Listening to the album, it’s easy to forget the man is 56 years old.

Goodnight Oslo is Hitchcock’s second album with The Venus 3. They’re not quite as vibrant as his former band, The Egyptians, but they’re an excellent compliment to Hitchcock’s sensibilities. Their premier collaboration, Ole Tarantula, was a solid effort. With Goodnight Oslo, the players have really come together. All the musicians sound at ease with each other. No one’s hesitating to bring a little personality into their part, and no one’s stealing anyone else’s thunder.

I’m not sure that this album will win Hitchcock a new legion of fans, but for people already riding the Hitchcock train, it’s a highly enjoyable addition to the man’s catalog.

My initial reaction to the opening track of 808s & Heartbreak, Kanye West’s new album, was something along the lines of, “Oh great. Another pseudo-pop song on a hip-hop album with glaring pitch-correction on the vocals. Vocoders sound more natural than this. Why is Kanye opening his album with an annoying, tired cliche?” To my utter amazement and bafflement, the technique was not just employed on the opening track but the entire album.

Kanye West has just released an entire album where he doesn’t rap! He “sings” with the help of a lot of auto-tuning. What’s more, this rather silly approach was inspired by the man’s suffering and turmoil.

I immediately warmed to the album. Not only is it stylistically interesting, the context is fascinating for a number of obvious reasons. An established hip-hop super-star has made an album that really isn’t hip-hop. He’s using this uncharted territory to express his devastation. He’s the biggest megalomaniac in popular music.

I love this kind of stuff. There’s nothing more compelling or an engaging than an artist who totally side-steps expectation to pursue something different. Of course, what really matters is whether or not the album’s any good. The jury’s still out on that one, but I’m going to be spending some time with it.