There should be a name for the kind of crisis that occurs between the status-anxious quarter-life type and the desperately youth-reclaiming midlife variety. That male, mid-30's freak out that masquerades as a nonstop party is an Atlantic trend piece waiting to happen, full of quotes from single-ish men who are too immature to know better or men that do know better and consciously flaunt their remaining immaturity.

British dance (I'm sorry, I have to do it: Britlectro) band Hot Chip's fifth album In Our Heads is commercially available in the U.S. today and it's...OK? Kind of divisive? They definitely commit to making classic-inflected house without a trace of irony, but the dweebish voice of Alexis Taylor (the more active of the band's two singers) clashes in a way that keeps me from loving the band entirely. I much prefer the non-dance moments, such as the electronic ballad "Look at Where We Are," which sports an earnestness that seems not out of place at all. Dig that terrific pitch-bending around the 1:40 mark.

In "Hang Up the Phone," the new single from Lipa Schmeltzer, who has been called "the Jewish Elvis" according to Wikipedia, the Hasidic and robotic meet.

By and large, albums these days don't get bad reviews. If you look at the music section of crit aggregator Metacritic, you'll see a strip of green, signifying "generally favorable reviews" to "universal acclaim," per the site's metric. I don't know exactly why this is, but given my experience, I'd guess that there's still a lot of placating going on — sometimes publications fear giving negative reviews because it may impede future access. Music publicists can be pretty tenacious.

Electro Swedes iamamiwhoami launched their project in 2009 via a series of mysterious viral videos that obscured the image of the singer. There was mass speculation that this might be the work of Goldfrapp or even Christina Aguilera, but then it turned out to be singer-songwriter Jonna Lee who had released a few albums, but clearly wasn't that big of a deal.

This unreleased dub rips off Madonna's "Into the Groove" quite explicitly, and I suspect that is the point. Considering that it's coming from one of the most encyclopedia minds in dance music today, Dimitri from Paris, this track reads more like a reference to the small rash of musical Madonna wannabes in the '80s. In the hierarchy, I think "Headphones" sits somewhere below Regina's "Baby Love" but above Alisha's "Baby Talk." This guy knows what I'm talking about.

Sometimes, the gods — otherwise known as music label execs — smile down upon us, and we're blessed with a great moment in pop. I don't know if our current moment is one for the ages, but it is really fucking enjoyable. In the U.S., Gotye's weirdo Sting/Zombies mash-up earworm, "Somebody That I Used to Know" is No. 1 for the sixth week. We love that song. Carly Rae Jespen's "Call Me Maybe" is at No. 2, poised to take over the top position whenever Gotye falls. That's another song we love. And Adam Lambert is the first out artist to hit No. 1 on the Billboard 200 album chart. Trespassing, his sophomore effort, is yet another thing we love. (Update: Lambert falls to No. 12 on next week's chart. But let's live in the moment?)

When people respond to modern dance music, chances are they are responding to drops. A drop happens when the beat comes back after temporarily exiting the sound design. In drop-fueled dance music, this happens every few minutes — the beat asserts itself, people freak out, their interest wanes, the song breaks down, the beat dissolves and then drops back in, asserting itself all over again, making people freak out all over again. And over and over and over again.

France's Onra is obsessed with retro R&B — his beaut of a 2010 album, Long Distance, contained many a convincing foray into the post-disco offshoot of boogie, and he's also flirted with some new jack swing reediting. I relate to his obsessions! The new track "L.O.V.E.," from his upcoming EP on Fool's Gold, sounds like a fading memory of a fleeting moment at the Paradise Garage. Gorgeous. [via Pitchfork]

About three years after its originally scheduled release, Baltimore rapper Rye Rye's debut album, Go! Pop! Bang!, has at last been released. It's a hoot that sometimes skews a little too close to radio trance, but otherwise has the ability to tease wild things out of her collaborators like Bangladesh — the dude who produced Lil Wayne's "A Milli" flips into full-on dance mode with Rye Rye.

The fourth album of Detroit's Jimmy Edgar, Majenta, is out today, and it's one of the most easily enjoyable dance releases of the year so far. Its production is clean and sparse, its references are broad, identifiable and respectful as they pump away ("Sex Drive" owes a debt to Frankie Knuckles and Jamie Principle's Chicago classic "Baby Wants to Ride," while "Let Yrself Be" is pure Inner City homage). But my favorite of its tributes are those paid to slow jams. The track above, "In Deep," is the album's concluding opus, which tips its hat to both Timbaland and Teddy Riley by way of Roger Troutman (it's kind of like an alternate scenario as to what it would sound like if Timbaland and Riley followed up their collaboration on the remix of Janet Jackson's "I Get Lonely"). It unfurls in a musky haze for a few minutes and then come some bass-music shuffles and a breakbeat. And then the real magic: "In Deep" breaks into a section riffing on the Art of Noise's "Moments in Love," maybe the definitive quiet-storm radio jam. (I almost was tempted to label that a spoiler alert because it feels like such a revelation.) "Moments" is a song that for years has say easily next to Phyllis Hyman and Freddie Jackson and Meli'sa Morgan and Teddy P., and Marvin, despite being created by a bunch of white people who had otherwise little to do with soul music. Nonetheless, it crossed over to the canon. Edgar's aspiration to do the same is palpable, and in a perfect world, he would.

"Has anybody out there lost someone that kinda meant the world to you? My, my, my, my lord. My, my, my, I had a sweet love. I had a good love!"

The theme of this video (which premiered today) just happens to be the theme of its singer's career: Rihanna is pretty. That is it. You need know nothing else to get Rihanna. Her beauty is as responsible for her success as any of her other natural gifts and those bestowed upon her by her producers, writers and managers. (Credit where it's due: despite terrible career/life decisions, her I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude is refreshing, if not fueled by the self-assurance that can result from massive fame.) "Where Have You Been" is a shoutier, uglier version of "We Found Love" from her underwhelming Talk That Talk album. Not like that'll stop it from being utterly massive! Your summer may sound something like this, like it or not.

For another Record Store Day release, British singer-songwriter Victoria Christina Hesketh (Little Boots) teamed up with historic Chicago house label Trax to release the 12" for "Every Night I Say a Prayer." She wrote this one with Hercules & Love Affair's Andy Butler and it's better than anything on his group's sophomore dud Blue Songs. (It's also better than pretty much everything on Little Boots' own spotty debut, 2009's Hands.) The housey original version of "Every Night" incorporates a sort of cleaned-up old-school Chicago aesthetic (dig the claps), but Tensnake's posh freestyle rerub is the vinyl's real winner. You can never go wrong with clinking 808s and pretty female vocals. Fact.

Today would have been the 61st birthday of one of the finest voices that ever blessed the Earth. Luther Vandross died almost seven years ago, and he is still sorely missed, especially when you consider the sad state of the commercial R&B male crooner (R. Kelly and Usher are about the only ones who can really sing and sell). Let's remember him by listening to his defiant disco (released a full two years after the Disco Demolition Rally supposedly destroyed the genre) and by staring at a bunch of New Yorkers' crotches. Miss ya, big guy.

Last month, on one of those rogue, summer-like mid-March days (kind of like the summer-like mid-April day we're experience in New York), I smoked a little something and made my way out into the blazing sun with the Addison Groove's Transistor Rhythm in my ears. At one point, the sensory overload had me nearly hallucinating. I didn't see or hear anything that wasn't there, but reality started to feel like reality was melting, only to be sucked back into shape seconds later. I'm not saying that's what will happen to you if you listen to this, I'm just saying try it. (But don't do drugs.)

Company B's weird freestyle/house hybrid "Fascinated" (from 1986) contains my second-favorite first line in pop music: "I want to play with you tonight." Really into the direct approach here. (The last line of the first verse is hilarious, too: "Maybe we could play tonight." I get the feeling that maybe this lady really wants to play?) And don't even get me started on the "love toy" part. This song is a national treasure.