THE LINDA LINDAS No Obligation (Epitaph) — While their classmates earned spending money by moving lawns, the Linda Lindas spent their summer vacation on support gigs for stadium-fillers the Rolling Stones and Green Day. Then, back-to-school time brought their sophomore album, No Obligation. Working again with Carlos de la Garza as producer, the precocious quartet rattle off a dozen songs in just about thirty-five minutes. Their young hearts still beat strongest for the music on the louder side, whether the thumping hard rock of the album-opening title cut or the ragged punk of “Excuse Me.” Even so, there are signs on the new record that they are ready and able to learn some new tricks. There’s a pleasing chug of new wave to “Too Many Things,” and “Resolution/Revolution” shows that the reigning champs of the Bikini Kill junior division have maybe given a few spins to Kathleen Hanna’s records as the Julie Ruin records, too. “Yo Me Estreso,” delivered with Spanish lyrics, draws on traditional Mexican music and features “Weird Al” Yankovic playing artful accordion. It’s definitely looking like the whippersnappers have staying power. In addition to the cuts already mentioned, pogo along to “All in My Head,” “Lose Yourself,” “Cartographers,” and “Stop Me.”

PAUL HEATON The Mighty Several (EMI) — Following a series of albums with his the Beautiful South cohort Jacqui Abbott, Paul Heaton pulls up a stool with his first proper solo album in a dozen years. The Mighty Several, officially Heaton’s fifth outing as the sole billed performer, still has the feeling of joyful collaboration. Heaton shares the lead vocal microphone with several collaborators, even sometimes ceding it completely. On “Silly Me,” Rianne Downey and Yvonne Shelton duet on a tune that recalls Linda Ronstadt’s twang-pop heyday, and the Pogues-like romps “Small Boats” and “Pull Up a Seat” are showcases for singer Danny Muldoon. Widening the spotlight takes nothing away from Heaton, because it’s his songwriting that’s the star attraction. As has been the case since his name was made with the Housemartins, Heaton’s craft is clever, melodic, and nicely wizened. “Fish ‘N’ Chip Supper” is what might have the Turtles might have spawned had they been raised on the Jam’s wry assessments of working class life (“And we’re all walkin’ back to our lovers, back to a husband or wife/ Holdin’ onto fish ‘n’ chip suppers and clingin’ onto dear life”). Later, “Walk On, Slow Down” features Heaton’s expert advice on which pubs do and don’t merit attention: “Steel shutters down/ On the posher side of town/ Then walk on/ If it’s ‘Pointless’ on TV/ And the barman’s half asleep/ Then slow down.” Producer Ian Broudie gives the whole affair a splendid shine, which is especially noticeable when Heaton is at his most spirited, as on the ska-by-way-of-pub-rock tune “Quicksand.” And, yes indeed, there are several more to enjoy, such as “National Treasure,” “After the Sugar Rush,” and “The Blues Came In.”