Editor’s Note: In Sound Advice, a revolving stable of BDN writers review new albums from across the musical spectrum.

Klaxons – “Myths of the Near Future” (DGC)

The British music press loves scenes. When grunge hit the mainstream after Nirvana’s breakthrough, every British magazine immediately sent a passel of reporters to Seattle to cover Cobain and company’s every move. When Britpop emerged in the mid-’90s, the entire industry went into spasms of joy; Oasis and Blur went from bands to minor deities in short order.

But sometimes things get a little dull, and the Brit press is forced to uncover a new scene, even if one doesn’t exist. All of which is a roundabout way of saying that London-based art rockers Klaxons are supposed to be at the forefront of a scene dubbed “nu rave.” “Nu rave” incorporates elements of ’90s dance culture (sirens, wailing keyboards that sound kind of like sirens, and an emphasis on bass and beats) into the standard rock band sound, creating some sort of new hybrid.

In reality, Klaxons are pretty much the only “nu rave” band that has released anything more than a couple of singles, and their sound isn’t shockingly unique; The Stone Roses and Happy Mondays were combining rock with dance influences in much the same way back in the early ’90s.

This doesn’t mean that Klaxons aren’t a lot of fun, however; their debut album, “Myths of the Near Future,” is packed with catchy dance-rock songs that burst with youthful enthusiasm. Singles “Gravity’s Rainbow” and “Golden Skans” are both instantly appealing, full of noisy keyboards and bounding bass that makes them the perfect antidote to the staid Britrock of Coldplay or Snow Patrol. Klaxons try to score points by sneaking in some art school references, but to be truthful, the lyrics aren’t really that important here. All that matters is whether the band makes you want to get up on your feet and jump around the room, and almost every song on the album accomplishes that goal. So forget all that “nu rave” nonsense; the “near future” is here, and it is Klaxons!

-Travis Gass

Harry Connick Jr. – “Oh, my NOLA” (Columbia)

If Tony Bennett left his heart in San Francisco, then Harry Connick Jr.’s is still deep in the soul of New Orleans.

Connick’s latest album is a love letter to NOLA, good ol’ New Orleans, La., and is awash in a combination of genres found in the Crescent City: jazz, gospel, rhythm and blues, funk, brass band and country.

Some of the songs are traditional tunes, such as “Won’t You Come Home, Bill Bailey?” while others are classics: Allen Toussaint’s “Working in the Coal Mine,” Hank Williams’ “Jambalaya (On the Bayou),” and Hoagy Carmichael-Johnny Mercer’s “Lazy Bones.”

Several were penned by Connick, three of them specifically for this album. Two are tributes to NOLA and its attitude, while “All These People” is a song about the folks he met who were stranded at the Convention Center during and after Hurricane Katrina, which wreaked its destruction on the city in 2005.

Connick easily captures the eclectic flavor of his hometown, moving effortlessly between the genres that flow readily from the heart of Louisiana. And while this isn’t, perhaps, his best album in challenging his vocal range or showing off some snappy orchestration, it is his most heartfelt.

-Janine Pineo

Aqualung – “Memory Man” (Columbia)

Aqualung – to all intents and purposes British singer-songwriter Matt Hales — is easy to pigeonhole: It’s hard to turn around these days without spotting a Coldplay or Snow Patrol lathering on the emotion. Despite the strong competition, Hales has managed to gain a fair measure of fame in his home country after his 2002 song “Strange and Beautiful” featured in a Volkswagen commercial. However, to view him as simply a lucky beneficiary of an advertising agent with some musical nous would be unfair. Hales has shown himself to be a skilled arranger, with a fine ear for the melancholy.

Still, “Memory Man” is only a pleasant and somewhat snoozy opus. Compared to his last two UK albums (which were incompletely compiled into the U.S. album “Strange and Beautiful”), it does show a little more willingness to try to cut loose. “Black Hole” layers Hales’ ever-present cascading piano with stadium guitars, and “Rolls So Deep” is at moments genuinely soulful.

But the album doesn’t entirely sweep you away. It’s a near miss that is foiled only by some tunes that while almost always pretty, are too often unadventurous, and eventually “Memory Man” fails to achieve transcendence in a genre that demands it.

-Adam Corrigan

Grant-Lee Phillips – “Strangelet” (Zok/Rounder)

I bet most rock songs were conceived from the union of an acoustic guitar or piano and a lone voice. Some improve when fleshed out with a full arsenal of instruments, some don’t.

Grant-Lee Phillips’ genius, on full display in his latest, “Strangelet,” is to take simple but fresh melodic and lyrical ideas and orchestrate them with just the right colors and textures, so the results are greater than the sum of their parts.

It’s not Brian Wilson territory he’s exploring, and that’s a good thing. Phillips’ musical choices don’t call attention to themselves, and above all, serve the song. He’s like a painter layering his canvas with hues visible only with a magnifying glass, but which are essential to the result.

“Runaway” features a thundering electric guitar riff low in the mix, then “Fountain of Youth” is accented with a ukulele, while “Dream in Color” has a dab of French horn. The sonic landscape covered in the dozen songs on “Strangelet” is wide, but it’s anchored in a unified vision.

Phillips had a similarly quirky but tasteful touch with his 1990s band, Grant Lee Buffalo. As a solo artist, he really has hit his stride, and his voice here is deeper and richer than on his ’90s offerings.

“Strangelet” is as solid and satisfying a collection of singer-songwriter fare as anything Ryan Adams or Jeff Tweedy has concocted in the last few years. Phillips deserves the same attention showered upon those rock auteurs.

-Tom Groening