Slayer, "World Painted Blood" (Sony) [3.5 out of 4 STARS]

At a time when the horrors of reality easily trump the vivid imaginations of the most wicked fantasists, what is a band that regularly traffics in gore and blasphemy to do? Unsurprisingly, Slayer's 10th studio album is among the most overtly political of its long and punishing career, with songs such as the title track, "Hate Worldwide," "Public Display of Dismemberment," "Americon" and "Not of This God," and four different CD covers that, when combined, create a map of the world covered in blood and bones.

Of course, as the many devoted fans of this most extreme and influential of thrash bands will cheerfully testify, the core of its appeal has never been the lyrics that raise the ire of blue bloods; those just help set the mood for one of the most unrelentingly powerful sounds in rock. And amid rumors of its impending retirement from live performance (apparently false) and with hardly any of the new tunes written before the band entered the studio (a departure from its usual methodology), Slayer incorporated more of the hardcore punk influence than it's displayed since the mid '80s, attacking with an undiminished fury belying the fact that it's fast approaching the third decade of its career.

How can these gents defy the inevitable aging process that has sidelined so many other monstrous metal bands? Perhaps steel-throated bassist-vocalist Tom Araya is offering a clue when he howls about "drinking blood for vanity" in "Beauty Through Order," though he swears this pleasant ditty actually is about "the first known female serial killer," Hungarian Countess Elizabeth Báthory, who was said to be fond of bathing in the blood of virgins. In any event, like the rest of this disc, the song will send fans of "Twilight" and "The Vampire Diaries" running in horror, and the Slayer faithful wouldn't have it any other way.

Julian Casablancas, "Phrazes for the Young" (RCA) [2.5 out of 4 STARS]

One of the most exciting bands to emerge in the new millennium, the Strokes have spent much of the time since their 2001 debut "Is This It" lowering the expectations set by that classically New York, Velvet Underground-influenced explosion of droning melodies, speed-fueled guitars and runaway subway train rhythms. "Room on Fire" (2003) and "First Impressions of Earth" (2006) were hardly dismal efforts, but neither expanded the basic formula the way the Velvets continually stretched the boundaries of their sound, and the wait for album number four has officially grown interminable as band members are torn by the constant distractions of various solo projects.

Now the group's voice, primary songwriter and laidback if undeniable leader has given us his solo bow, a concise, eight-track, 40-minute set that takes its name from an Oscar Wilde essay ("Phrases and Philosophies for Use of the Young") and which veers far and wide for the sort of stylistic diversity sorely missing in the Strokes. Unfortunately, the results only make a fan miss that band more.

Julian Casablancas' delightfully laconic vocals remain as appealing as ever, and he still flaunts an unerring ear for hooks so casual and seemingly effortless you forget how infectious they are. These talents shine on the opening "Out of the Blue" and "Left & Right in the Dark," as well as the dark but frenetic "River of Brake Lights." But these suffer from the sterile computer rhythms; why use a drum machine when you have one of the greatest human rhythm machines in rock with Strokes drummer Fabrizio Moretti?

Elsewhere, though memorable melodies still abound, Casablancas sounds painfully out of his element--a New Yorker dressed head to toe in black leather stranded on a sunny beach. Witness the misguided lo-fi dance track "11th Dimension," the awkward computer-orchestrated ballad "Glass" or the bizarre drunken blues/uptight freak-folk of "Ludlow St." One wishes that producers Jason Lader and Mike Mogis (Bright Eyes) would have provided a bit more guidance. But one wishes even more for the return of Casablancas' old prep school mates.