Aimee Mann structured her new album around a single, pulp fiction- like story starring a washed-up boxer and a girl from the fair. But where you'd expect a concept album to be overblown, the story actually makes the record leaner: It's like a lyrical click track that pins every song to the same few themes, pulling us through the roughest depiction of addicts and hard love that Mann's ever written. And it doesn't hurt that The Forgotten Armrocks. Thrown together in less than a week with few overdubs and lots of classic-rock guitars, it's Mann's most muscular disc since I'm With Stupid -- and it takes a welcome left turn from the insomniac moodiness of Lost in Space. Where that album wrapped its troubles in melancholy, The Forgotten Armshows its characters sympathy by knocking them down and letting them get back up on their own. -- Chris Dahlen
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