They’re reunited but quite unexcited

Jane’s Addiction

“Strays” (Capitol)

**

The first two songs have some of the old flavor and fervor, but this crate (due in stores Tuesday) is hard to keep airborne. Maybe because of all the baggage it carries as Jane’s Addiction’s first album in 13 years.

Some bands can pick up where they left off because they’re strictly about a sound and a style, and all they need to do is plug in the old settings and flick the switch. But Jane’s Addiction was about more than musical formula. The L.A. band embodied independence and life on the edge, capturing an outsider’s defiance and desperation while also summoning an uncommon tenderness. Perry Farrell’s freakishly high, raspy voice tested fears and fascinations in a stratosphere no one else could reach.

Reunited, Farrell (whose voice has lost all its eccentricity), guitarist Dave Navarro and drummer Stephen Perkins, with new bassist Chris Chaney, revive the sonic and thematic signatures but little of the urgency -- the sense that something is at stake. Chemistry is a fragile thing. It’s tough enough for a band to maintain the magic while growing older together, and it’s even tougher, obviously, to do it separately.

-- Richard Cromelin

Substance along with shenanigans

Brad Paisley

“Mud on the Tires”

(Arista Nashville)

*** 1/2

Paisley’s light seems to shine brighter with each release, as his own writing and singing continue to grow. Several highlights from his accomplished third album (due Tuesday) are built on the key strengths of his first two: keenly humorous up-tempo numbers that capitalize on his skill at wordplay.

The single “Celebrity” fools you into thinking it’s going to be another dreaded “Wouldn’t it be great if I were famous?” plea but quickly reveals an Everyman’s frustration over what substitutes for achievement these days (“You can act just like a fool/ People think you’re cool/ Just ‘cuz you’re on TV”).

But the real leap comes in “Whiskey Lullaby,” a chilling, bluegrass-drenched duet with Alison Krauss about two people whose descents into alcoholism rob them of everything (“He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger/ And finally drank away her memory”). It’s an emotional knockout punch.

His other ballads don’t register quite as powerfully, but the little truths he slips into the lighter fare give the album plenty of substance along with the sheer fun. His guitar work is a constant joy -- his fleet Travis-picking on the endearing “Make a Mistake” is irresistible -- and as full of surprising twists as his cleverly crafted lyrics.

-- Randy Lewis

Ashanti runs gamut of emotions

Ashanti

“Chapter II” (Murder Inc.)

** 1/2

Ashanti has a right to brag. After all, the singer-songwriter’s second album is atop the pop and R&B; charts. But the 20-track “Chapter II” would be better without the self-aggrandizing skits and self-congratulatory opening medley of her hit moments, and the Prince-esque spoken-word funk cut “Shany’s World,” on which rapper and co-producer Chink Santana blurts out more ego-boosters as Ashanti purrs in the background.

“Rock Wit U (Awww Baby)” is a no-brainer summer hit with its stark, electro-propelled whirligig funk balancing Ashanti’s sunny, flirty vocal. Her singing generally surpasses that of many baby divas, but her voice isn’t really distinctive, and her unabashed favoring of the breathy coo, while erotic, doesn’t help her stand out. Her stance on romance is consistently up-front and no-nonsense, but “Chapter II” has so much in the mix -- from steamy bedroom soul to a moment of consciousness -- that it never coalesces.

A shrill, ‘80s synth-funk quality makes such numbers as “I Found Lovin’ ” overpoweringly artificial, but Ashanti injects real urgency into the techno-rock soul of “Carry On” and the quiet-storm heartbreaker “Rain on Me.” But even the highlights tend to drag on well past the limits of their simple sentiments and pleasant, forgettable grooves.

-- Natalie Nichols

Quetzal hits new heights

Quetzal

“Worksongs” (Vanguard)

*** 1/2

East L.A.’s best “new” band is already 10 years old but still feels like a discovery. This is its third album, its first produced by Los Lobos veteran Steve Berlin. And it’s the ensemble’s most polished studio work.

All the familiar Quetzal elements are here: the band’s barrio vision, its thoughtful social themes, its urban fusion of rock and soul with Mexico’s folkloric son jarocho. But Quetzal keeps refining its formula, crafting a taut and sometimes surprising album with a more contemporary edge than last year’s flowing, folkloric “Sing the Real.”

Its writing has become increasingly economical and impressionistic. In “Learning Solitude,” a series of short phrases weaves a tranquil mood, haiku-like. In the urgent and forceful “Decide,” the band boldly confronts its uncertainties. And in the droning, mystical “This is My Home,” the group finds renewed purpose in coming home to L.A., step by step: “Walk, walk, slow stride/ Don’t stop, sunset/ Walk, walk, cornstalk/ Walk, walk, front step.”

Quetzal has clearly taken Chicano music to a new level. Luckily for L.A., this classy act has learned how to grow without becoming uprooted.

-- Agustin Gurza

Quick spins

Bob Dylan and various artists

“Masked and Anonymous -- Music from the Motion Picture” (Columbia/Sony Music Soundtrax)

***

Or maybe “Dylan in Wonderland.” That’s the surreal sensation generated by this soundtrack (in stores Tuesday) to a film starring Dylan as a “fallen rock legend.” Four new live Dylan recordings rub shoulders with an international buffet of Bobsongs, including cuts by the Grateful Dead and Los Lobos, plus a tasty Japanese version of “My Back Pages.” But nothing compares to Articolo’s Italian rap take on “Like a Rolling Stone,” complete with a sample from the original. How does it feel? Inexplicably euphoric.

-- R.C.

Patrick Park

“Loneliness Knows My Name” (Hollywood/Downward)

***

The Los Angeles-based Colorado native’s voice and melody sense are attractive if not gripping, his loner-vagabond lyrics poetic if not revelatory, and the melancholy Americana he crafts with producer Dave Trumfio is rich if not startling. But there’s alchemy on this debut album, as the settings bring out the best in the songs and Park’s delivery takes on depth and heart akin to Wilco, Ryan Adams and even early Simon & Garfunkel. Park plays Friday at Spaceland.

-- Steve Hochman

Singapore Sling

“The Curse of Singapore Sling” (Stinky)

***

When the Hives opened Scandinavia’s garage door, this Icelandic quintet stayed in a dark back corner, drenching moody, drony rhythms in guitar fuzz and feedback. The Sling’s debut album draws heavily on the post-punk mind-bends of the Jesus and Mary Chain and Love & Rockets. “Summer Garden’ offers a Velvety, ‘60s-ish melodic diversion, but otherwise it’s a fuzz-toned trod right through the closing “Dirty Water,” turning the Standells’ classic even murkier. The group plays tonight at Spaceland and Tuesday at the El Rey.

-- S.H.