The real news surrounding Dangerously in Love isn't that Beyoncé has gone solo – Destiny's Child's one-woman-show Survivor made that clear years ago – but that she's started shedding her churchgoing, goody-goody image. Though no Lil' Kim-caliber transition, Dangerously finds Ms.-Knowles-if-you're-nasty describing just how much she'd love to love ya, baby – so much, in fact, that she's contemplating one-night stands and pontificating about skin-on-skin encounters. So, say her name, say her name, 'cause she's ready, willing, and waiting like never before on subtle, slow grinds such as "Be with You" and "Speechless," on which her metaphorical foreplay goes deep with one-liners: "Waited for you to use the key that opens my place."

For all Beyoncé's newfound in-your-face sexuality, however, Dangerously sounds surprisingly sexless and formal. Despite its slinky-kinky beat, "Naughty Girl" unconvincingly transforms her into the "Nasty Girl" she once puritanically dissed. The ho-hum "Be with You" rips off Adina Howard's far freakier "Freak like Me." And let's just say that a woman exchanging sexual innuendos with Luther Vandross is probably as likely to fan any real-life flames as one confessing, as Beyoncé does on "Daddy," "I want my husband to be like my daddy."

Electra complex aside, Dangerously disappoints because it's not as innovative and interesting as her Destiny's Child work. With nothing as vocally and lyrically revolutionary as "Say My Name," it unfortunately feels like the stuff of any other slightly better than average artist. Worse, those looking for D.C.-style dance-floor fodder should check their expectations along with their coats at the door. Discounting a few early tracks – including the so-hot first single, "Crazy in Love" – the decidedly nonjumpin' jumpin' album seems entirely uninterested in making your booty touch the floor. And if Beyoncé can't inspire booty shakin' or boots-knockin', then she's missing a lot more than her band mates on Dangerously. (Jimmy Draper)

Little Brother
The Listening (ABB)

Anyone remember the '90s? When the economy was booming, paranoia was still considered passé, and neo-imperialism was nothing more than a glint in the eye of a callow governor from Texas. If you pine for those relatively easier days, then Little Brother's The Listening is the CD for you. Employing simple breaks, languid jazz and soul samples, and straightforward, almost conversational lyricism, The Listening exudes the sweet summertime-jam vibe of classic Native Tongues-era hip-hop. You can hear Jay Dee's minimalism in producer 9th Wonder's almost lethargic drum tracks, Pete Rock's soul music fetish in the extended vocal samples peppered throughout, and De La Soul's love of slice-of-life vignettes in MCs Phonte and Big Pooh's lyrics. On "Speed," Phonte laments the "treadmill lifestyle," while on "The Yo Yo" he takes a trip to the coffee shop and humorously criticizes the open-mic warriors who "try to battle me with sandals and capris on." The overall effect is a slow simmer of an album that doesn't so much grab you and twist you around as it does subtly lull you into a hypnotic trip down memory lane. Sure, everything about The Listening is hopelessly derivative – almost to the point of it being a creative regression in the timeline of hip-hop – but it's also a lot of fun, and a great soundtrack for those summer days spent smoking blunts and lounging with old friends. (Sam Chennault)

Cryptic One
Anti-Mobius Strip Theory (Centrifugal Phorce)

Those looking for feel-good, sing-along, hip-hop lite need not apply. As the title implies, Anti-Mobius Strip Theory is full of lyrics that loop back on themselves, tangling listeners' thoughts with Cryptic One's musings on time, life, and death. The first full-length from this member of the Atoms Family backs up the promise he showed as a guest on "Atom" from Cannibal Ox's The Cold Vein and "Mic Molest" from the second Definitive Jux compilation. On his own, Cryptic flings skeins of dark knowledge over solid production that matches his rhyming prowess.

We get top-notch guest beats from the likes of Jestoneart, Blueprint (of RJD2 and Soul Position fame), and a trio from Blockhead ("UniCycle," "BiCycle", "TriCycle"), but the album is surprisingly cohesive, owing in part to a welcome absence of round-robin guest MCs. Instead, Cryptic is free to roam, scattering onomatopoetic gems as pithy as "endless, relentless carousel" and deliberate as "she opens her eyes, grabs her purse, grabs steel, takes aim / To his and her surprise, perfect shot, bullet breaks brain."

Effortlessly shifting his delivery, Cryptic is able to pull off intricate flows, even when they include borderline ridiculous metaphors like those on "Half Life": "order an appetizer of pain, before the main course / Tray of sanity loss, with nice, spicy anarchy sauce." At over 70 minutes, Anti-Mobius Strip Theory runs pretty long, but then Cryptic has plenty to say and, from the gloomy, anxious tone of his production, not much time to say it. (Peter Nicholson)

Dr. Lonnie Smith
Boogaloo to Beck: A Tribute (Scufflin')

Joey DeFrancesco
Falling in Love Again (Concord Jazz)

His title may be only honorary, but if universities were giving out Ph.D's in funk, Lonnie Smith would be at the head of the class, having long ago delivered the definitive dissertation on the art of soul jazz as played on the Hammond B-3. Since contributing to Lou Donaldson's genre-defining album Alligator Boogaloo in 1967, the Buffalo, N.Y.-born organist has covered nearly everyone from John Coltrane to Jimi Hendrix on his solo projects. Now he applies his key-and-pedal prowess to 11 selections by Beck Hansen on Boogaloo to Beck: A Tribute. With help from tenor sax titan David "Fathead" Newman, guitarist Doug Munro, and drummer Lafrae Sci, Smith strips the tunes to their melodic and harmonic essentials. The players alternate between swing and fatback rhythms on such numbers as "The Devil's Haircut" and "He's a Mighty Good Leader" – Sci gives them an especially buoyant bounce – and in the process transform Beck's quasi-indie tunes into slabs of rare groove as good and greasy as a vintage Blue Note platter.