By Paul V.

Singled Out

Paris Hilton - Stars Are Blind - Warner Bros.

How does an overexposed heiress with no identifiable skills besides shopping and rolling videotape in the bedroom get a record deal? C'mon, need you ask? Kidding aside, this breathy, reggae-lite little ditty is actually ... pretty good—in an Ashlee Simpson, lazy-eyed, over-processed, kind of way.

Peaches - Impeach My Bush - XL

Whoa, kids—strap yourself in for this one. Peaches drops her amazing third album, and she's hellbent on continuing to filthify America and make you moan with pleasure. With her most sonically, fully realized effort to date—helped, no doubt, with beats handled by Mickey Petralia (Beck, Ladytron) and real band fleshiness—the transvision vamp of sextronica hits pay dirt. Any worries that she may have censored herself in these politically ass-backward times are gleefully extinguished with the delicious opening couplet on “Fuck Or Kill”: “I'd rather fuck who I want than kill who I am told to!” Suck that, Prezidunce Bush! As always, she straddles the fence between buzzing electro beats and gut-punching rockers. Of the former, standouts include “Downtown” (about the pleasures of cunnilingus) where the 808 gurgles like Goldfrapp on poppers, the Timbaland-styled “Tent In Your Pants,” and needing a guy on guy three-way with “Two Guys For Every Girl.” Of the latter, the amps hit 11 with two scorching Joan Jett duets—“You Love It” and the Gary Glitter-channeled stomping “Boys Wanna Be Her” (both balls-out smashes), and kicking up desert dust with Josh Homme on “Give 'Er.” In Peaches' world, everyone is just a little queer (or wishes they were), and whether they're in need of their own sexual revolution or gender bend or not, she makes it clear that a little of that does a lot of good. Hail the teaches of Peaches!

Brand New Heavies - Get Used To It - Delicious Vinyl

In the early ‘90s, a musical scene was emerging called “neo-soul”—deep, vintage grooves played live, inspired by the greats of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, but updated with some electronics and polish. One of the outfits of the era with the biggest buzz was these cats, with special attention deservedly heaped on their powerhouse lead singer N'Dea Davenport, who split for a solo career after a few releases. So the big news is that she's back with the original band here, and, wow, they've apparently lost no magic during the course of their separation. Their signature fusion of sunny disco, sultry funk, delectable soul, and acid jazziness make for a tight comeback, featuring a handful of charmers: the emancipated bliss of “We Won't Stop”; the soaring deep house of “Let's Do It Again,” where they practically channel Earth, Wind & Fire; the bass-heavy low-down funk of “All Fired Up,” featuring a solid lead vocal from drummer Jan Kinkaid; and a truly sassy cover of Stevie Wonder's “I Don't Know Why (I Love You).” Trust me, one spin 'round and Davenport will be your new favorite diva, with a resonance that clearly influenced the likes of Jill Scott, Erykah Badu, or Alicia Keys. And hell, the Black Eyed Peas would've never sprouted out of their pods had they not heard BNH. Next time you order your grandé frappucino at Starbucks, look for this disc on the CD rack there, too.

Art Brut - Bang Bang Rock & Roll - Downtown

Sometimes when a band sets out to do nothing but have a laugh and some pints—devoid of visions of grandeur—they sound more inspired and damn loveable than the bands that wear their world domination aspirations on their sleeves. Enter London's Art Brut, whose kick-off track, “Formed A Band,” sums it all up. Driven by dizzying, ragged guitar riffs, it sounds like it was thrown together in 10 minutes tops, yet begins the many quotable lyrics here—"Yes, this is my singing voice/It's not irony, it's not rock & roll/We're just talking, to the kids.” Tossed off by singer Eddie Argos' Cockney speak-singing, it's actually both, and the band desecrates and celebrates each in heavy doses. On the title track, Argos snarls, "I can't stand the sound of the Velvet Underground!" as the backing vocals chime in "White light! White heat!" and John Cale-like violin screeches in the background. While all this sardonic wit could be suffocating, there's a pure, unfettered joy swarming around these ramshackle songs that prevents it from bordering on a-hole cleverness. Indeed, much of AB's appeal lies in Argos' storytelling style, be it singing about impotence ("Rusted Guns of Milan"), drinking with Morrissey ("Moving to L.A."), or reveling in a three-day boner (the über-infectious “Good Weekend”). The band has bravado, energy, ambition, and cheekiness in spades, sounding like The Fall, Ian Dury, The Streets, and The Buzzcocks brawling in a bar. A smashing debut!

Catch Paul V. spinning tunes in Silver Lake: Dragstrip 66 (second Saturday each month at The Echo) and “TVOD” every Wednesday at Faultline. Tune in for his “Smash Mix” on Indie 103.1 FM, Fridays at 5:30 p.m. Grab his DJ mixes at www.thesmashmix.com.