3 1/2 stars = Very good
Ratings explained

This Christmas season, parents will introduce their children to a legendary sage from northern climes renowned for his unsettling facial hair and unmistakable voice.

This man is, of course, Bob Dylan. His first-ever holiday album, "Christmas in the Heart," arrived this week, with the 68-year-old ripping through a gaggle of jaunty Christmas carols as if they were so much gift wrap. From "Winter Wonderland" to "Silver Bells" to "First Noel," it's a bizarre and bewildering collection that, in many ways, embodies the rough-hewn traditionalism and forehead-slapping surrealism that's defined Dylan's career. The man's serrated croon isn't just jarring -- it actually gives these chirpy old chestnuts a sense of menace.

And it is awesome.

The arrangements on "Christmas in the Heart" are both overtly cheerful and staunchly by-the-numbers, making Dylan's beleaguered croak sound both maddening and sentimental, kinda like the Christmas season itself.

He throws down the gauntlet immediately with the twinkling pep of "Here Comes Santa Claus," one of the most annoying carols ever written. "Here comes Santa Claus / Here comes Santa Claus / Right down Santa Claus lane," Dylan rasps, making yuletide glee feel more like lunacy. "Must Be Santa" ramps up the insanity to even dizzier levels, with accordions moaning and cymbals crashing away at the speed of polka.

Where the faster carols feel crazed, the slower carols feel creepy. Dylan's guttural braying on "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing" boggles the ears while the sparse "I'll Be Home for Christmas" sounds like a reason to bolt your doors.

Yet over the course of 15 songs, Dylan's huffing and puffing becomes familiar, almost meditative -- like a snowblower howling away on a December afternoon.

As odd as this album is, "Christmas in the Heart" launches Dylan into the rarefied pantheon of pop icons who've contributed truly memorable songs to our communal Christmas jukebox -- earning a spot next to the holiday heat of James Brown's "Funky Christmas" album and the dopey, electronic weirdness of Paul McCartney's "Wonderful Christmas." The album also places the Bard of Hibbing in the ranks of Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond -- other iconic Jewish-born singers with Christmas discs to their name. (Diamond's effort, while nowhere near as visceral, also drops this week.)

-- Chris Richards, The Washington Post

3 stars = Excellent
Ratings explained

This U.K. quartet, just of drinking age, has debuted to swells of hype with music so spare it's barely possible to tell what four people do on their tracks. Romy Madley Croft and Oliver Sim spar too cleanly for their own good, evoking the Kills, Tricky and Martina Topley-Bird, Young Marble Giants, and PJ Harvey's Uh Huh Her on their overly palm-muted duets, yet they are far less engaged or synced with each other than any of those mentioned. They don't sound like they're singing to, or even at, each other at all. This unrelenting detachment throughout "xx" is covered up with pools of tasteful reverb and a penchant for hooks more reliable than catchy. It feels like there should be a service charge.

Nevertheless, the oddness and improbability of this group have imbued them with such mystique I keep listening anyway, for secret new chord changes among the plentiful spaces and resting spots; for sexy clues in the lyrics, ominous guitar tones wafting over the landscape, subtle hooks that find their way despite their somewhat incomplete construction. Certain key cuts help keep up the pretense that there's more there: the unexpected gallop trick of "Basic Space" (neutered somewhat by its undynamic remix), the Sleater-Kinney-style riff on "Crystalised," wherein no light escapes. Without doubt, "xx" leaves you wanting more. It just takes a while to figure out if that's in the bad way or not. I've played it often to make up my mind, which should be a testament to its time-worn-and-worn-again captivation technique: Less and less is more and more.

--Dan Weiss, Philadelphia Inquirer

Ramsey Lewis 'Songs From the Heart: Ramsey Plays Ramsey' (Concord)

3 stars = Good
Ratings explained

Pianist Ramsey Lewis, the host of PBS's "Legends of Jazz," has been getting out a lot lately. The Chicago-based cat, who had hits in the 1960s with such tunes as "The 'In' Crowd," here presents the work he composed for the Joffrey Ballet and the improvising strings known as the Turtle Island Quartet.

Lewis, 74, works through eight tunes with his trio -- which also includes drummer Leon Joyce and bassist Larry Gray -- and plays four other solo pieces.

The results are often pretty. "Clouds in Reverie," which animated the Joffrey troupe, is one gorgeous solo effort. "Touching, Feeling, Knowing" is based on a South African folk song, while "The Way She Smiles" gets energized by a high-stepping New Orleans lilt. "Conversation," for the Turtle Island folks, is handsome and streaked with melancholy, while "Rendezvous" enables Lewis to create a wide-ranging solo. It's good to hear Lewis working beyond his pop inclinations. The tunes sprawl at times and could have used some editing. Joyce relies on a cymbal-heavy sound that can irritate. Yet overall the set shows unexpected growth from a seasoned fellow.

--Karl Stark, Philadelphia Inquirer

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