After Justin Timberlake actually became sort of cool, maybe you thought the odds were low that another 'N Sync member might accomplish the same thing.

Think again.

On his solo debut, JC Chasez, 27, doesn't connect with the genius producers-of-the-moment, as Timberlake sublimely did with the Neptunes, and he doesn't stop the music to reveal diary entries or literary ambitions. Instead, on Schizophrenic, Chasez got together with a range of pop and dance producers (Basement Jaxx, Robb Boldt, Riprock 'n Alex G) and created seventeen high-impact tracks that spread out all over the place. This is music that is bent on connecting with the dance floor and won't deny itself anything: "One Night Stand" interpolates bits of the Donna Summer/Giorgio Moroder disco masterpiece "I Feel Love" in a doo-wop voice and quotes Smokey Robinson's immortal 1979 "Cruisin'." Schizophrenic is all stylistic pastiche and adventure, territory that boomed during the Eighties (think Prince) but later became more the province of hip-hop and dance. This is the music that first got Chasez -- as well as the Neptunes -- shaking.

Clearly, Chasez didn't get and keep his place in 'N Sync because he couldn't sing, as ballads such as "Build My World" and the extraordinarily well-sung "Dear Goodbye" prove. "Everything You Want" is ace late-era Police. But most important, Chasez does what works for his tracks. This means aching through feverish pop reggae ("Mercy"), chanting strong New Wave ("All Day Long I Think About Sex"), lifting off Stevie Wonder-style celebrations ("She Got Me") and reporting the latest nightlife news ("Some Girls [Dance With Women]"). No doubt about it, Schizophrenic is a lot. It's also cool. (JAMES HUNTER)

John Frusciante Shadows Collide With People (Warner Bros.)

"Shadows collide with people" is the most polished solo album yet from Red Hot Chili Peppers guitarist John Frusciante; his last three albums, beginning with 1995's painful Niandra LaDes and Usually Just a T-Shirt, vary in quality from hauntingly lovely to druggy and unlistenable. Shadows is the only one that resembles his band's output; it also lets you hear how Frusciante has made the Peppers more varied, experimental and, most important, melodic.

The evidence is everywhere: Shadows Collide With People is full of a lush, bubbling beauty that proves Frusciante's personal rehabilitation has taken his music further than ever. His singing is vastly improved and newly assured, and the synth work that fleshed out previous solo albums is now given room to breathe in both the ambient numbers and in proper tunes such as "Regret" and "Wednesday's Song," which continue in the psychedelic-pop direction of the Peppers' 2002 album By the Way. The contribution Frusciante has made to the Peppers -- a band he joined as a nineteen-year-old fan -- is finally obvious. (BARRY WALTERS)

Liars They Were Wrong, So We Drowned (Mute)

They Were Wrong, So We Drowned, an electronic-noise collage that sounds disturbingly rooted in the what-the-fuck? tradition of Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music. Purportedly inspired by a German Halloween-like holiday, "Broken Witch" opens the album with bell-like sound effects and sporadic snare hits, after which Andrew begs someone to tell him the tale of the children who stood in the way of the endless winter. "They Don't Want Your Corn They Want Your Kids" likewise forms a groove out of spastic drumming and electro blips, to no real end. Making a record about fear is one thing; making a record you fear listening to is quite another. (CHRISTIAN HOARD)

Jonatha Brooke Back in the Circus (Bad Dog/Verve)

Jonatha Brooke has been making intimate, well-crafted records for years, but she remains an outsider to super success, her literate folk-pop going mostly unnoticed by the public (if adored by critics). Befitting her Amherst coffeehouse roots, Back in the Circus is stocked with lovingly detailed songs as well as cover versions of other artist's work, Brooke lending her aching soprano to very personal renditions of "God Only Knows," "Fire and Rain" and "Eye in the Sky." Singing against unsettling drum machines and comforting keyboards, Brooke sounds world weary in songs rent with emotion. It's as if she's survived some travail and needs to lean on her friends (us). "Sleeping With the Light On" is sung as if she's under the covers, with Brooke's lyric "There's an order to things now that you're gone" ringing true for anyone who has ever been devastated by a breakup. "No Net Below" sounds uplifting at first, but belies another failed relationship. Comedy Central this ain't, but Brooke's fireplace folk may be just what battered heads and lonely hearts need. (KEN MICALEF)

Rocket From the Tombs Rocket Redux (Smog Veil)

RFTT was Midwestern garage rock's aurora borealis: an exasperatingly short-lived burst of luminous, proto-punk brilliance that only lasted from 1974 to '75. Mirroring the band's mercurial combustion, the RFTT -- vocalist David Thomas, guitarists Peter Laughner and Cheetah Chrome, bassist Craig Bell and drummer Madman Madansky -- catalogue has been limited to a pittance of dusty demos and shoddy bootlegs. To call Redux the group's first official album is a bit deceiving -- Television's Richard Lloyd replaces Laughner (and also produces) and Steve Mehlman, who worked with Thomas in Pere Ubu, fills in for Madansky. Moreover, no new songs surface here -- these are simply studio recordings of RFTT's original compositions, omitting only the epic "Transfusion" and two other forgettable tunes. Intact are sizzling slices of "Sonic Reducer" and "Final Solution," which were later adopted by Pearl Jam and Pere Ubu, respectively; they verify Reduxas the best-sounding RFTT material that will probably ever surface. (KURT ORZECK)

Anne McCue Roll (Messenger)

Australian singer/songwriter/guitarist Anne McCue wields potent bluesy rock against her unaffected, naturally wistful voice, and the contrast between the two sounds adds dimension to her second studio album (and U.S. debut), Roll. McCue's impressive slide guitar playing can be ethereal, echoing the ghosts of dysfunctional and broken relationships that haunt the album ("Nobody's Sleeping," "Where the Darkness Grows"), or snaky and predatory as it is on "Hangman," a song with strong overtones of McCue champion Lucinda Williams. Just when you're convinced it's nothing but a blues thing, though, McCue delivers songs that are catchy ("Stupid"), delicately beautiful ("50 Dollar Whore") and gently anthemic ("Crazy Beautiful Child"). The only slight misstep is the closing track, a cover of Jimi Hendrix's "Machine Gun" that clocks in at nine minutes and twenty-one seconds; it sounds out of place after hearing the rest of Roll, but it still works as a showcase for McCue's wicked ax slinging. (MEREDITH OCHS)

Frames Set List (Anti)

Immensely popular in Ireland, where their albums reach the Top Ten, the Frames remain a cult favorite in much of the rest of the world. Therefore, it comes as a welcome revelation to hear such a large audience applauding and singing along for every tune. "Revelate," "Fitzcarraldo," "Star Star" and "Pavement Tune" have always sounded like anthems, but on this live album recorded in Dublin, November 2002, they clearly are. While the band is completely comfortable with the grand gesture, under the tutelage of singer Glen Hansard, they've transformed from the gritty, alternative band that was once signed to American major labels into an eclectic indie-rock ensemble exploring the quieter spaces of American alt-country and the like. The gentle atmospherics of "What Happens When the Heart Just Stops" and "Stars are Underground" perfectly relieve the high-wire angst of their more popular tunes, expanding their stylistic breadth to become one of this decade's most promising bands. (ROB O'CONNOR)

Lamb Between Darkness and Wonder (Koch)

In marrying the singer-songwriter mentality of vocalist Louise Rhodes with the jungle beats of producer Andy Barlow, British dance duo Lamb have quietly evolved over three previous albums into one of dance's most ambitious acts. The pair's fourth studio effort, Between Darkness and Wonder, pushes that ambition even further by moving from the jungle and trip-hop worlds into chill-out terrain as Lamb envision it. Tracks like the instrumental "Angelica" and the spacey opening of "Sugar 5" rely on heavily orchestral arrangements. Barlow's dance muscles still get a workout as well, particularly on the husky jungle climax of "Stronger" and the quirky techno of "Open Up." But the most exciting moments occur when Barlow and Rhodes are in perfect harmony. The atmospheric "Wonder" shuttles back and forth between the darker moments of Beth Gibbons' recent solo effort and Bjork floating above the clouds on nitrous, while the alternately genteel and explosive "Till the Clouds Clear" is a sublime showcase for Rhodes' vocal fireworks. (STEVE BALTIN)

Nellie McKay Get Away From Me (Columbia)

The hype on Nellie McKay is unbelievable -- an unknown nineteen-year-old songwriting, piano-playing phenom signed after a handful of gigs whose major-label debut is a double album -- until you listen to her music. McKay is that rare performer whose talent is irrefutable. It explodes out of the CD in a torrent of musical styles -- from Tin Pan Alley to hip-hop -- and politicized, self-immolating lyrics so funny and provocative that they belie her age. Legendary Beatles engineer Geoff Emerick harnesses McKay's wild gifts without stifling her. From the playful intro and reggae rhythm of "David," to the white-girl rapping of "Sari," to the disco symphony of "Waiter," to the ironic torch song "I Wanna Get Married," McKay glitters, snarls and purrs all in the same breath. With stylish jazz vocal and piano, she creates the perfect mythical New York scene where muggers and moms with kids pass in the thick sunlight on "Manhattan Avenue" (the Harlem block where McKay grew up). She contemplates "happy pill or suicide" before imploring listeners to "Use the pain " in "Change the World," then uproariously declares "God I'm so German/Have to have a plan." Finally, a teenager who can articulate and a drama queen you can actually love. (MEREDITH OCHS)

All Night Radio Spirit Stereo Frequency (Sub Pop)

On All Night Radio's debut album, principals Dave Scher and Jimi Hey -- formerly of Los Angeles country rockers Beachwood Sparks -- deliver a venturesome batch of tunes. Culling an assortment classic rock's elements, Spirit Stereo Frequency lends itself to headphone listening, as "Daylight Till Dawn" joyously assures. Balancing the vintage layered pop of the Partridge Family with bits of soul and acid rock, it's just one in a number of spaced out fusions that are like little else on the dial. And beneath sound collages like "Fall Down 7" (which merges Sgt. Pepper orchestration with a War-like groove) or the musical mushroom trip known as "We're on Our Own Wave," All Night Radio write phenomenal songs. By limiting themselves to nine real tracks and a brief interlude, Scher and Hey keep things consistent while they feed your head -- from the winning, lush lament "Sad K" all the way through to their accomplished, eight-minute parting theme. (JOHN D. LUERSSEN)

Garrison Starr Airstreams and Satellites (Vanguard)

Mississippi girl Garrison Starr has the pipes to put across a radio-friendly AOR anthem and no doubt her old label, Geffen, was hoping she'd climb up on the shoulders of Melissa Etheridge and connect with the big rock candy heartland. However, while Starr is certainly capable of delivering those goods (here, "Superhero" is the obvious candidate), it isn't what she necessarily should be doing. Airstreams and Satellites, her debut for the venerable folkie label Vanguard, is a modest effort that heightens her country influences while never denying her natural love for the three-minute pop song. She can sing the big rock standards, but Starr's at her best when her power is understated. "Underneath the Wheel" and the title track, in particular, are packed with the bittersweet longings that mark the best singer-songwriters. Throughout Airstreams you hear Starr learning to harness those emotions. She's on her way. (ROB O'CONNOR)

Preston School of Industry Monsoon (Matador)

Fronted by former Pavement second banana Spiral Stairs, PSI turn out mellow, shambling rock, with Stairs' dry indie-boy voice pumping out dusky melodies and pensively out-there lyrics -- which carry the tunes even when the rhythm section sounds like a wet noodle. (CHRISTIAN HOARD)

Wheelhorse Victrola for Sale (Wheel to Reel)

Part of alternative country's big failure was its central identity crisis. Sure, country and rock could successfully marry, but the results were often too twangy for rock purists and too rawk for fans of fiddling. Wheelhorse have found a rare comfortable mix, in no small part due to the fact that the Kentucky five-piece knows it's a drum-tight rock & roll band at heart. That doesn't mean that guitarist Joseph Litteral isn't wont to splash a bit of lap steel or mandolin on a cut. Or that the band didn't invite bluegrass whizkids Ronnie McCoury and Jason Carter to add some country color. Or that the harmonies on "Leaving Train" aren't tapping into some hillbilly lineage. So embellishments like a steel guitar might add a haunting bit of reverb to "Baptist Town," the bottom end still shuffles with Seventies swagger, a muddy foot always in the blues, where it all starts. (ANDREW DANSBY)

(February 23, 2004)