McCartney gets his freak on in 'Arguments'

The Fireman, "Electric Arguments" (ATO/MPL)

The Fireman is Paul McCartney getting his freak on. Do not be alarmed.

This collaboration with Youth allows McCartney to have fun in the studio without feeling the burden of being Sir Paul.

There's ambient noise, electronica, a dog barking behind tinkling piano and a rocker even more disorienting than "Helter Skelter." Weird and self-indulgent? You bet, especially the last quarter of "Electric Arguments," which will sorely test your patience.

But this is Paul McCartney, remember? He dreams three or four good melodies a night, and he's had a little experience using a music studio as his canvas. In spots, this music recalls the grandeur of Arcade Fire and - if you hadn't seen Mac's name on the credits - you might think some hot new alternative rock band had hit the scene.

Check this out: One of Paul's old mates, George Harrison, had great success with a song welcoming a new day ("Here Comes the Sun"). The shimmering "Sun is Shining" here is worthy competition.

Kanye West, "808s & Heartbreak" (Roc-A-Fella/Def Jam)

It's hard to call Kanye West an underdog these days. Though he struggled very early in his career to be taken seriously as a rapper, he is arguably rap's biggest name now. His first three albums have cemented him as a multiplatinum-selling megastar and multiple Grammy winner. Given his award-show tantrums and altercations with paparazzi, it'd be easier to consider the self-proclaimed "Louis Vuitton Don" just another arrogant celebrity.

But his music has always contained enough moral contradiction and beatmaking artistry for listeners to continue rooting for West even when it appears his head has grown too big. "Man I promise, I'm so self-conscious," he rapped on his 2004 single, "All Falls Down."

That strain of self-awareness mixed with gut-spilling honesty anchors his compelling yet bittersweet fourth album, "808s & Heartbreak." Fans beware: The disc represents a major sonic departure for West. Where previous releases transformed samples from Ray Charles and Chaka Khan to Steely Dan and Daft Punk into danceable rap hits, this 12-track effort largely recalls the sparse, echoey sounds of 1980s pop acts Tears for Fears or early Phil Collins.

Perhaps understandably, West might not be in a celebratory mood. He's coming off a rough year. His mother died last November after undergoing cosmetic surgery. Then, five months later, the Chicago rapper ended an engagement to his fiance. Still, the disc's minimalism can be tedious at times. Three-quarters through, West's melancholy becomes harder to digest - from the string-heavy "RoboCop" through the extended chick-a-boom outro of "Bad News." And the album closing live freestyle, "Pinocchio Story" has as many hokey moments as soul-stirring ones. It's not the first time he's questioned himself, and hopefully not the last. Ultimately, "808s & Heartbreak," is further proof that West is most compelling when he's open to figuring it all out.

Check this track out: With West's haunting vocals, simple piano figures and assaulting drum kicks, "Love Lockdown" is the perfect elegy to love gone south.

Guns N' Roses, "Chinese Democracy" (Geffen)

When an album takes longer to finish than the ceiling in the Sistine Chapel, lofty expectations are part of the deal. "Chinese Democracy" may not be high art, but for any GNR fan, it was certainly worth the wait.

But where "Chinese Democracy" is technically more a Rose solo project than a Guns N' Roses album, it at least feels like the singer paying homage to his former band. Forgetting that for a moment, it is one heckuva record.

Rose's high-pitched, staccato delivery sounds strong as ever, and other GNR touchstones are revisited - from the six-minute piano ballad ("Sorry" is no "November Rain," but it has that feel) to a sampling of the same "failure to communicate" bit from "Cool Hand Luke" that he used as the introduction to "Civil War" in 1993.

The perfection of its warp-speed guitar solos, ambition of its proglike twists and turns, and flawlessness of its production are in line with the endless years "Chinese Democracy" took to make. Considering the carousel of characters who brought something to bear here, however, it's not surprising that its weakness is that the sum of these superior parts does not equate as a whole.

Maybe under normal time constraints, this would be considered a masterwork. Given the protracted production and soaring costs - an estimated $13 million - "Chinese Democracy," at best, meets expectations.

Check this track out: "Madagascar" will easily fit into a playlist OF GNR's best. No surprise - Axl has played it live over the last couple of years.

Trace Adkins, "X" (Capitol)

In an era of shooting stars and faster falls, Trace Adkins has proved he's all about endurance. A dozen years after his debut, the tall, big-shouldered country star is still on the rise.

Thanks to a recent string of big hits and a high-profile stint on NBC's "The Celebrity Apprentice," Adkins is poised to enter the top tier of stardom, where Kenny Chesney, Alan Jackson and George Strait have long reigned. He just needs that one undeniable album that cashes in on his distinctive voice and oversized personality.

"X," his tenth, isn't quite it. It sticks with what fans expect of Adkins. There's "Sweet," a funky country workout where the swaggering singer leers at a woman whose attributes are all physical; there's "All I Ask For Anymore," a tender ballad from a caring family man; and there's "'Till the Last Shot's Fired," a somber tribute to American soldiers.

These are topics Adkins has visited repeatedly in the past. Individually, the songs reveal why he's good at communicating lust, love and patriotism. As a whole, though, the album finds him sticking with where he's already been. It's hard to rise higher when staying in a holding pattern.

Check this out: For such a macho guy, Adkins is a surprisingly soulful crooner. The steamy "Let's Do That Again" emphasizes how well he handles a slow-rolling rhythm.