T.I.

Paper Trail

Clifford Harris Jr. -- the looking-good MC named T.I. -- sounds grimmer here than on his most recent records.

His rhymes are provocatively intimate and withdrawn, his overall sonic demeanor smaller than before. Recording mostly at home while awaiting trial for possession of machine guns can humble a man -- make him less grandly boastful.

So, too, can the sadness of a miscarriage. "I lost my partner and my daughter in the same year/Somehow I rise above my problems and remain here," raps T.I. during "No Matter What."

This time it's personal -- that's Paper Trail's slogan.

Though he has been a formidable writer throughout his career, you never got the sense that T.I's violence-'n'-drugs rhetoric came from within despite his growing up in Atlanta's hardest parts.

But death and detention lace his raps with newfound ardor and forlorn grace and his music with a mumbling grumble. Weirdly enough, it works. Right when "Swing Ya Rag" and "Whatever You Like" get ready for the obvious kink, they chill. Rather than bring in big guns like Justin Timberlake for the big sexy, T.I. gets them to talk down.

"The old me is dead and gone," raps T.I. in rumination.

Paper Trail ain't Blood on the Tracks. But it shows a broken man with an openness few major-label rappers would allow.

-- A.D. Amorosi, The Philadelphia Inquirer

Jenny Lewis

Acid Tongue

Prompted by Rilo Kiley's 2004 album More Adventurous and confirmed with 2006's solo debut Rabbit Fur Coat, Jenny Lewis made the jump from indie-rock darling to full-fledged diva heartthrob.

Fortunately, unlike Kiley's glitzy, disco-ey Under the Black Light from last year, Acid Tongue isn't diva-ish: It's pared down and lively.

Lewis replaces the country-soul female harmonies that sweetened Rabbit with gospel call-and-response choruses, as in the rowdy "Jack Killed Mom," and with rave-up duets with various males (Elvis Costello, M. Ward, the Black Crowes' Chris Robinson, and others drop in).

She's trimmed her word-rich lyrics -- sometimes too much so, on the repetitive "Pretty Bird" and the overlong "The Next Messiah" -- but she still has that irresistibly pretty ache in her voice. While the loose rockers are fun, the ballads, such as "Tryin' My Best" and the title track, are the real killers here.

-- Steve Klinge, McClatchy-Tribune