The Donut does the early Bee Gees tune "Every Christian Lionhearted Man Will Show You", Killdozer does Procul Harum's "Conquistador" and the combined unit called Kill Donut takes on the 5th Dimension's medley of the first and last tunes from Hair, "Aquarius/Let the Sun Shine In (The Flesh Failures)".

Oddly, the take on the Bee Gees is pretty damned straight, which is unusual for an Alice Donut cover. The Procul Harum tune is torqued out in the usual excessive Killdozer style. Killdozer does have a way with stupid pop anthems.

The combined effort is the most satisfying. A complete breakdown in the wall between slavish devotion and parody. Is it a joke or the ultimate tribute? I don't know.

The press on this passes on the word that Alice Donut has called it quits. I've heard it spoken in other quarters, but it still bums me out. This isn't a worthy end note, but perhaps it is an appropriate one. For a band that never paid much attention to propriety or current trends, Alice Donut bows with a stab at the current wave (70s music).

Gotta say, though, that the Frank Kozik art work is brilliant. Make of all this what you will.

Some more of an ever-burgeoning sound, that industrial pop thing propagated by such varied artists as Whorgasm and God Lives Underwater.

The Almighty Ultrasound keeps the hooks simple and sweet, while cranking the distortion and samples to near-excessive levels. A cool pushing of the envelope, as it were.

The overall sound is constantly swirling, in a nice updating of that pop psychedelia movement of a few years back. Instead of silly production tricks, these folk simply pound out another level of distortion. Well, maybe that's a silly production trick, after all.

And I still get the odd My Bloody Valentine feel, though there's a lot more pop here than where that group left off. The Almighty Ultrasound have a good feel for this musical movement, and even the lyrics are above average. Hell, the slow songs don't suck, either (which is a pretty good trick with a distortion-laden sound). Nice work.

A big bunch less-than-a-minute-long rants against just about everyone, with a few full-length tunes (if you can call them that) thrown in for good measure. No covers, either, with the exception of the theme from Three's Company (written, oddly enough, by Alan Thicke).

The titles are amusing, as always, though differentiating between many of the songs is impossible. Some choice names: "Johnny Violent Getting His Ass Kicked By Morrissey" (a personal statement about a labelmate?), "Face It, You're a Metal Band", "Everyone in Anal Cunt Is Dumb" and the inevitable "Everyone in the Underground Music Scene Is Stupid." Yeah, and lots of songs about "cunts", "gays" and other losers (including Tom Arnold). Enough to turn the staunchest free-speech advocate white, if you didn't realize this is all a big joke. As usual.

I mean, come on. You just can't get pissed at this band. The guys are too damned silly. Sure, they sling around words that usually set off righteous outrage explosions best measured by the Richter Scale. But that's the point. Just bound along, enjoy the grindage and laugh along. Anything else, and you take life way too seriously.

And what if Uncle Tupelo had this odd grunge thing going on in the background?

The Bludgers take that well-worn (and now even trendy) midwestern country-rock thing and give it a new shine with the occasional burst of overwrought bass and distorted guitar. Yeah, I haven't heard anything like this.

It surely wouldn't work if the Bludgers didn't have such decent songwriters as Jon Pheloung and Paul Colussi. The lyrics are generally upbeat bits describing various parts of the average midwestern life, which is a few light-years removed from the coasts (which might explain why the critics spooged over last year's awful Wilco and Son Volt albums). Being used to this sort of thing from my college days spent watching Uncle Tupelo turn into a good band, I feel confident in pronouncing Bludgers the best heartland band since the Boorays (who don't really play country-style at all, but still).

There are rough moments, and spots where the songs run a little thin, but the Bludgers generally carry off this album with real style. The playing is average, and Pheloung's voice is nothing spectacular, but the songs themselves are worth all the worry. A very good piece of pop work.

Quite the metamorphosis. The first time I heard Brainiac, it was more of a hardcore-pop kinda thing. Very low-tech.

And the recent EP and this album show off the technical brilliance of what can only be called about the best noise-pop band operating today. Brainiac keeps the song structure simple, merely imbibing its peppy tunes with random caterwauls and electronic screeches. And all the excess doesn't deter the joyful nature of the tunes from shining through.

The most astonishing feature here is the tenency toward subtlety. With most of the instruments amped into heavy levels of distortion, every song has at least one undercurrent that will flow with or against the general song concept as it wills. This isn't easy to do with straight pop music, though the bands that can are masters (say, the recent Wrens album). Brainiac manages even while bashing everyone's brain out.

This sort of sound is very difficult to control. Only folks this talented could even begin to try. Brainiac has succeeded well beyond my expectations. Noise for the masses.

Byrd's last album was the first overtly Christian instrumental guitar album I'd heard. An odd concept, sure. And now that he's put together a band, complete with singer (Robert Mason), the tunes are much less religious in nature.

Completely overdone bombast in the style of UFO, MSG or early Yngwie. Mason has the perfect voice for this sort of music: a good range, but still that hint of a rasp that has worked so well for folks like David Coverdale. Byrd has toned down his guitar pyrotechnics, allowing the songwriting to shine.

I know a lot of people simply hate this kind of music (and when it's done poorly, there's plenty of reason for that). Yeah, this may be 10 years behind the times, but it would stand up well to some classics of the genre. That Uriah Heep-style organ is the classic touch (the same thing that kicked Whitesnake over the top) that really makes the sound.

Excessive, anthemic as all hell and way behind the current trends. A ballsy choice for a sound, indeed. But the James Byrd Band has put together a really good album. I had this pegged as mere silliness when it hit the discer, but these guys really believe in the sound, and Byrd has simplified his songwriting style just enough to make the whole work. For those who reveled in the excesses of 80s metal, here's an album ready-made for you.

Merging some classic jazz styles with current hip-hop beats and attitude, a healthy dose of funk and 60s pop, Bill Evans (and songwriting cohort Jim Beard) try and pull off the trick that worked for Us3 and, to a lesser extent, MC 900 Ft Jesus (particularly on Welcome to My dream), who appears here as a guest.

Plenty of guests, though the vocals sometimes move this sound a bit too close to the "happy jazz" feel I hate. But generally Evans keeps things on the better side of taste, and the album simply rolls along.

Evan's playing is good enough, not terribly impassioned or of the genius quality, but he has put together a very enjoyable album. Candy corn, perhaps, but perfect for just about any party. Light enough to keep the mood good, and interesting enough so as not to insult anyone's intelligence. Works for me.

Um, well, if you want to call it punk. Whatever.

More of a classic rock and roll feel, like how the Beatles updated the US sound back in 1963. The production values are similar, and the songs are mostly sung in German, just for the hell of it (mostly because this is a German band, I think).

Well, now that I think about it, this is about as punk as the Blue Hearts ('member them?), who were more pop than anything but managed to develop quite the punk following.

Absolutely nothing to this. Complete fluff. But still pretty fun, even if I have no idea what the folks are saying. Points deducted for the absolute theft of George Martin's production style, but still a winner over all. Fans of real rock and roll will be amused.

Proof that that the Epitaph ideal is now a world-wide phenomenon. Millencolin is a Swedish quartet that oozes and ahs almost as well as classic Bad Religion (or at least Pennywise).

They not only know the style, they have the chops and songwriting skills to create lean, mean tuneful pop-punk tunes. Positively addictive. Play this and then the new Bad Religion, and you'll realize how far the mighty have fallen.

Okay, so the lyrics are sorta silly. This is simply fun music. Gonna bitch? I think not.

Damned exciting music. Not to repeat myself, but upon listening to the new BR, I wondered why I ever thought those guys were the total embodiment of cool. The album was lame. And now Millencolin spells it all out to me: desire and energy.

Anyone who claims to like pop punk stuff (and certainly any of the Epitaphile minions out there) will go bezerk upon hearing this. Nothing could be so simple, and yet very few have reached this standard.

My heart is racing; my pulse weak. Gotta hit repeat again.

Probably the ultimate extension of the Neurosis ideal. Songs stretching out past the 10-minute mark; lots of brooding and despair. Neurosis fans know what they're gonna get, and the band delivers.

A bit to much for me. I never thought I'd say this, but the excesses have finally caught up with Neurosis. Oh, this is a wonderful work of pain and suffering. I'll be listening to it for ages to come. But it doesn't match up to the last two Neurosis albums, and the reason is simple: With all the emphasis on distortion and electronic stuff, the band has lost the ability to create subtlety in the chaos of its compositions. The soft piano line in the background, a singular guitar track wending its way down the apocalypse. Stuff like that is missing here.

Like I said, this is still one of the better albums this year. But it's still a big letdown for me. I absolutely love Neurosis and everything that came out on AT. And this album satisfies my base needs for new Neurosis. My finer needs of great music from the band, however, are left somewhat wanting.

I want to love this so much. I feel the need to just immerse myself in its being. But as the disc rolls on, I long for the brilliance of Souls at Zero and Enemy of the Sun. And that's just not here.

The rawness of an "alternative" garage band infused with massive doses of Goth anthemitis and synth wash. There are so many ways this could go wrong.

First, the band could sound like latter-day U2, which would be a cardinal sin. But the Prophetess avoids that trap, falling more into a pseudo-Cure sound. Without the whiny vocals or keyboard excesses of that band's popular output.

It's still pretty silly. The lyrics are dark and foreboding, absurdly so, one of the lesser tendencies of Goth stuff. And the band acts like it buys all this melancholy stuff. Oh well, can't be perfect.

Still, a solid pop album that manages to hit many trends on the head without sounding calculated in the least. A bit over-the-top at times, but nothing that seriously damages the quality of the disc.

Punk-tinged rock and roll straight out of Vancouver. No DOA or NoMeansNo tendencies, though (the bass is where it belongs), but plenty of amusement.

Nothing complicated, nothing stupid. A lot like the Hi-Fi and the Roadburners album on Victory last year, the Smugglers resurrect an older rock sound and make it fly. There are the odd surf-rock influences that come in, along with a real appreciation of the Sex Pistol sneer.

But even with the attitude, most of Selling the Sizzle! is more wacky than rude. Uptempo, sure. Out of control, never. The Smugglers have a complete lock on just what they want to sound like. And I like it.

Sometimes the best things are simple. The Smugglers won't win any innovation awards, but the music is good enough for rock and roll.

A couple members of Rodan (ex-members, I suppose, since that band is long gone) move to New York, meet a violinist, put together some cool songs and then go back to Louisville to find a drummer and record an album.

So who knows if this is a one-off or the beginning of something grand. I sure don't. Anyway, for those unfamiliar with the legend of Rodan, it was a really cool band that put out one great album (full of wildly explosive noise and the occasional pop inflection) and then splintered into the wind. Other members have done cool things since then. No need to rehash that here.

The Sonora Pine is a bit more contemplative and introspective than Rodan (and it helps to have the patience to get through the first song, which is about as close to ambient I've heard this kind of band attempt). The songs follow pop song structure fairly loosely (you get a chorus now and again), allowing the various members of the band to wander around and then find each other by the end of the piece. Most of the time.

More of the famed Louisville sound that never made it big. And I still like it bunches. The band gets into trouble at the start of most of the songs, and then spends a few minutes trying to dig its way out. Pretty cool, if you're into chaotic stuff like me.

Not a perfect album, by any stretch, but a lot of the beauty lies in the imperfections. The Sonora Pine is not for the average listener. But those with courage and patience just might be overjoyed.

Moody pop stuff that veers from really dull (and annoying) to fairly interesting. With little warning at all.

A constant is the highly distorted vocal track and fairly messy guitar playing. Actually, it's not like anything about A Ten O'Clock Scholar is tight. I prefer the band when it gets going, because then at least the stuff isn't whiny. But it's still not terribly good.

Art music for the garage set. Pretentious tunes by people who don't have a lot of musical talent. A lack of talent does not preclude anyone from a career in music, but in that case it helps to write songs that don't expose your lack of skill. A lesson missed somewhere here.

On the plus side, these guys play with a load of panache and really believe they are making a statement. While somewhat adding to the horror, I applaud their stab at greatness. It just didn't work.

One of my favorite pop bands, straight outta Lawrence. Kansas.

And they're still on Crank!, despite this single. At least, that's what the sleeve sez. Anyway, this stuff should be played at 33. It doesn't warn you anywhere (okay, it does, but the numbers are really small), and I blissfully played the a-side (mostly instrumental) at 45 before the vocals finally came in. Honestly, it sounds damned good at both speeds. Never ran into a song that did that before.

Both songs are cool "emo-core" (which is what Crank! likes to call this stuff, though I don't like the term much) in the style of such cool folks as Jawbox and Treepeople. Punk-pop is what I used to call it (as opposed to pop-punk, the difference being the same as the difference between green-blue and blue-green in the crayon box).

Damn, all this digressing and still no review. The flip has vocals, and it's pretty cool, too. Vitreous Humor is one of the better bands playing this sort of music today, and this single showcases that talent quite well. Can't wait to hear an album (whenever and from wherever that may happen). I wait impatiently.