What a week it's been for comebacks! Prince, Parenthetical Girls, Phoenix... yep, the 405's new music section is just dripping in P. So, naturally, absolutely none of the album streams I've selected for you discerning readers and listeners this week are by bands whose name begins with that over-exposed letter.


Atoms For Peace – Amok (XL Records)

Like you, dear reader, I was a little worried about the idea of Thom Yorke teaming up with Flea, whose best performance after years playing bass in the Red Hot Chili Peppers was as a mostly-mute German nihilist in The Big Lebowski. How would his endlessly repeated, head-bopping funk rhythms fit into Yorke's disaffected, dystopian world view and affected singing style? Fear not, for Atoms For Peace does not sound like Yorke in place of Anthony Kiedis (imagine him with just a sock on) or Colin Greenwood replaced by Flea. It sounds almost like a full-band version of Yorke's solo album The Eraser, with the bedroom production swapped for a full-band setting, which gives the record a lot more life than that album or The King of Limbs. Fellow band member and long-time producer Nigel Godrich has clearly learnt a lot from his own side-project, Ultraísta, as a lot of Amok has a similar glitchy disco thing going on with the programmed drums and synth stabs.

How to destroy angels_ - Welcome Oblivion (Pitchfork Advance)

Has Trent Reznor mellowed with age, or has his own brand of brooding industrial music just gotten more focused? The man himself has gone through a pretty amazing physical transformation from potential lead for the next Crow remake to Henry Rollins Jr since the heyday of Nine Inch Nails, and his music followed suit. His soundtracks for The Social Network and The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo with Atticus Ross took the synthesised noise and soundscapes he made with NiN but stripped out the histrionics, leaving music that was ever-more effective. How to destroy angels_ - Reznor's new band with wife Mariqueen Maandig, Ross, and NiN designer Rob Sheridan – harness that new found restraint. Which isn't to say that Welcome Oblivion isn't loud, aggressive, or that Maandig can't growl along with her husband's best. Because all of that happens. And it's great.

Johnny Marr – The Messenger (The Guardian)

I've always had a soft spot for Johnny Marr. Whilst I'm not the biggest Smiths fan – because, y'know, Morrissey – his guitar work was, obviously, wonderful, and I liked when it was woven into the sound of Modest Mouse and The Cribs. I like the fact that he could probably afford to live anywhere he wants, but he stays in Manchester, and supports the local scene from which he once sprung. I even appreciate the fact that his reasons for finally releasing a solo album (although, as our own Mike Emerson points out, not technically his first) is because he "felt something was missing from pop … when you hit it right on guitars in pop, it can be vivacious and exuberant and shiny." Which is exactly what The Messenger is – a shiny, simple pop album. Expect nothing more, and you'll get a whole lot.

Chelsea Light Moving – Chelsea Light Moving (NPR)

The former Mr Kim Gordon's new band (not the black metal one, sorry) – who may also be a removal company? – have been drip-feeding tracks online via their Soundcloud, but this is the first time we get to hear them in full-album form, which is where Sonic Youth really used to shine. Chelsea Light Moving is a cleaner and leaner than most of Moore's SY or solo albums, with stringy guitars and endless vocal hooks. It's no Daydream Nation, but it's pretty good.

Mount Eerie – The Last Hit (Bandcamp)

With "organ and guitar playing by Phil Elverum" The Last Hit is an improvised soundtrack for a black-and-white indie film that was barely released. "It was made by a man from Ontario whose name is Chris," reads the half-remembered synopsis on the album's Bandcamp page, "The movie was black and white. It was about a few people wandering lost in the woods on a failed "hit" job (like, a murder), lost and hungry, occasionally seeing dramatic landscapes." Which is exactly the sort of film you'd expect the former Microphones man to score, and it sounds exactly how you'd expect, too: apocalyptic, lo-fi, oppressive. A lot like the last two Mount Eerie albums, actually, but without Elverum's high-register singing acting as a ballast, darkness reigns.