by Andrew W.K.

(Steev Mike)

Sure, every song is a "single" now. But some tracks sound more like singles than others, whatever their status as "focus" tracks or leaks to MP3 blogs. And some albums just sound better boiled down to their quintessential song. This is a good example. From the bonus disc of W.K.'s new double CD (disc one is his unreleased-in-the-U.S. Close Calls with Brick Walls, from 2006; disc two, assorted other items), "Let's Go on a Date" is Andrew at his dollar-store-Springsteen-channeling-99-cent-shop-Phil-Spector finest, two minutes and 18 seconds of what sounds like a monolithic, nonstop chorus until things slow down on the bridge: "To the nightclub, to the restaurant, to the movies/And then to your place, and maybe third base, then maybe outer space." If you're not a W.K. completist, this is really all you need of this release.

by the HotRats

(Fat Possum)

Covers albums tend to be negligible, and thus also perfect fodder for cherry-picking. The HotRats' Turn Ons is a perfect example: The band is Gaz Coombes and Danny Goffey from second-rank Britpoppers Supergrass, plus producer Nigel Godrich, running through a dozen songs—Bowie, Costello, Velvets, Floyd—in performances that are deft enough but don't stick much once finished. This one is an exception: the Beasties' early signature, led by storm-cloudy acoustic guitars and rearranged to sound like a run-through by the Who, circa 1967. It's backward-looking for sure, but they can see for miles and miles and miles.

by Shelby Lynne

(Everso)

Singer-songwriter fans tend to like their favorites served unadorned—more "honest" that way, goes the rhetoric. Often, though, this just means undercooked, which is how onetime Nashvillian Shelby Lynne's bare-bones Tears, Lies, and Alibis mostly sounds to me. Not always, though, and especially not on this song, a series of sharp couplets, beginning right at the point with "I'm not happy with this conversation/Too little righteous indignation," and stopping through "I'm sick and tired of throwing stones/'Cause all that leaves is broken bones" and "When you lay down and think of me/There won't be much serenity," before making its final break: "This apple done fall off the family tree." Lynne's voice matches the lyrics' wear, but the break she sings about sounds liberating as well as difficult.