Some of my common complaints about prog rock include too many keyboards (leading to a washed-out sound), playing that emphasizes technique over feel and a general holier-than-thou attitude.

Well, the members of Artension are technically brilliant, and they aren't afraid to show off a little. There are more keyboards than even more prog rock bands allow, and I wouldn't call the songs unambitious. But instead of wanking to high heaven, Artension works.

Sounds a bit like old Fates Warning (never a bad thing), but while Vitalij Kuprij's keys are rather prominent, the guitars take just as active a role. No one fears being overshadowed by another player, and the interplay is the thing. Just like the reason Frizzle Fry is the best Primus album: Les let his guitarist play with him.

The lyrics are a bit silly, but the musical constructions are creative and innovative, breaking the normal "prog rock" oxymoron. This is an album that musicians and general music fans alike can enjoy. A lot of fun, and a great album to boot.

One note from the hook. That's all Badwrench really needs.

Now, folks that dig "alternative" stuff like Better than Ezra will find this brilliant, but I've got my standards, folks. And Badwrench plays the backbeat syncopation game with skill, but not enough verve to kick my ass.

It's too bad, because I can hear where just one little bit could move this from sorta catchy to riff-wrapping ear candy. One idea would be to lighten up a bit on the vocal style (which adds a level of pretentiousness that the songs cannot support), but even then they guys have to know that their song construction needs about one more chord change each chorus. Just to shift into overdrive.

Or maybe they don't want that. Fine by me. Right now, though, Badwrench is muddling between musical concepts. Borrowing from a couple, but not able to really fly on its own. Plenty of potential, but the guys just aren't there yet.

Coulda used this stuff on Halloween. The title track is done in a Nice Cave-y circus style (no, really), with some of the bleakest lyrics I've heard in quite a while. And a chorus to die for. And the rest just follows from there.

Plenty of wacko noises and musical ideas congregate on this here slab of vinyl, which is about what you'd expect from the Thick folks. This sort of morose philosophizing might get annoying, except that the music is so cool you kinda forget the sillier stuff.

Moody, yes. Mean, sure. Not your average band, absolutely. The Blue Meanies defy description and convention and still manage to crank out a set of reasonably amusing and accessible tunes. Now that's a feat.

This will probably fare even better on repeat listens. Strap yourself in for the long haul.

Yeah, okay, so this is standard hooky East Bay-style punk-pop. If you're tired of the sound, go away. If you like that, then you should groove with a big smile.

And the Crumbs are a little more lyrically adept than most of the bands that populate this sound. Somewhat snide and cynical, but not enough to overpower the amusing groove.

Both tunes are uptempo and buoyant ravers, the kind that makes Florida's summer in December almost bearable. Alright, so plenty of you have already shoveled a load of snow or two. Don't whine at me. The Crumbs are pretty damned cool.

More from the second life of Marty Friedman. More of you are quite well acquainted with his day job, lead guitarist for Megadeth. But he's been doing these atmospheric solo works for a while now, and I've yet to find one I didn't like.

And hey, with quality sides like Tony Franklin and Jimmy Haslip on bass, Carmine Appice, Nick Menza and Gregg Bissonette on drums and the odd bit of vocal work from Stanley Rose, how can you complain?

Friedman does a lot of MIDI work, giving his guitar all sorts of shapes and sounds. He doesn't stick to any one songwriting style or concept, preferring to wander all over the place. Hey, sounds like a good idea to me.

Sure, this is still guitar god music, but Friedman does it better than almost anyone. He's not afraid to take chances and go places he's only seen in his dreams. Sometimes you crash, but on this album, everything works nearly to perfection. This is one of the best instrumental (with the exception for two songs) guitar album I've heard in a couple years, at least.

You get a live treatment, and then a made-for-radio version. All of Diamanda Galás generally screaming or making rather amazing guttural noises. There are some lyrics that make some sort of statement, but I've never been a fan of interpreting performance art.

On the other hand, I love listening to whatever it is she is doing at the time. Even while screeching her head off (perhaps particularly while screeching her head off), Galás is able to convey a range of ideas and emotions that makes most anything else seem transparently fake.

And like most of her recordings, Schrel X is a testimony to her astonishing vocal chords. I try to imitate the sounds, and my throat goes dry and constricts after about 10 seconds. And I didn't come anywhere close.

The usual, which with Galás is anything but. Stunning as always, as uncompromising as any of her most strident works. Wonderful in a really sick way.

A couple peppy surf punk-pop tunes, light as a breeze but still nicely hook-laden.

Well, If you've heard the band before, you've got an idea of what this sounds like. And, well, if you've heard Jan and Dean, you probably have a decent idea as well. This keeps in with the best of the genre, but doesn't really move anything anywhere.

Enjoyable fluff, and nothing else. A little cotton candy at the fair.

Much heavier into the funk than recent outings, Howe tries to put a new face on his technical guitar noodlings. If he had been able to use a few more acoustic instruments (piano instead of keys, for example), this might have worked better.

The problem is that it sounds like a studio creature, just a bit too artificial to be able to breathe live air. Howe is an excellent player, and his songwriting skills are above average. This set is just a bit too calculated to work for me.

The production is fine, but I make the same notation: This could have used a more "live" sound. Might have helped kill the stilted feeling the disc has.

He's done better. And he'll do better. This outing is workmanlike at best for Howe.

I seem to recall the press for Xtort claiming that there wouldn't be any personal re-mixes of songs from that album. I believe the claim was that Sascha had better things to do.

Well, he gives "Son of a Gun" a new face, En Esch rips a cool new take on "Inane", and Raymond Watts (aka PIG) pounds through "Rules".

Sascha really doesn't do much for "Son of a Gun", but both the En Esch and Raymond Watts remixes put a cooler sound on their respective songs. The serious fan will already have this. I'm not sure if it's worth a big wad of cash or anything, but it satisfies. For now.

Perhaps the preeminent experimental electronic band of the 80s, Laibach has laid low much of the 90s. Many of the band's albums have been rather conceptual, and this one examines religion and the people who follow them.

So you get a rather melodramatic romp through "Jesus Christ Superstar", a strangely stiff interpretation of the underappreciated Prince song "The Cross", a version of "God Is God" (the original of which will appear on the new Juno Reactor album) and plenty of Laibach originals.

Much of the time Laibach toys with that whole Enigma-style dance groove, merging those beats with the dull electronic throbbing that is a band trademark. You know what you're going to get, and Laibach delivers.

Not so much an update as a postcard from a wandering friend, Laibach has returned with an album as uncommercial as any other in its history. Now that Laibach has a rep as an early industrial influence, we'll see how the kiddies accept this offering.

Sixty-two minutes, one song. Mick Harris is done with Scorn (I never did hear the final album--hint, hint), but he continues his electronic experimenting with Lull. The first three albums were on Sentrax, and now Harris has moved to Release (where an increasing number of old earache hands seem to be arriving).

Much more daring than latter-day Scorn, Harris used Lull to really flesh out strange musical ideas and stretch the boundaries of music. Sure, it seems like a pain to sit through sixty-something minutes of one song, but trust me: It's worth the wait.

The main difference is that Lull doesn't rely on a backing beat track. And as Harris seemed to be getting a bit derivative in that way toward the end of the Scorn run, I'm all for this new direction.

Call it what you like: ambient, electronic, whatever. Mick Harris has come through again with a revolutionary disc. Now I've just got to dig up those earlier Lull albums.<

Perhaps this is a rising new/old sound. Mayadome is a group of guys from Sweden who haven't given up the anthemic eurometal ideal. Their take is hardly original, but at least it is competently played and fairly well-produced.

Mayadome still suffers from radically shifting gears in songs a bit too often. Soft, lyrical introductions are abruptly cranked into metallic overdrive for the song itself. And the layers of keyboards are a bit heavy at times.

Good enough for starters, though. The production gives Bjorn Holmquist's vocals a nice touch, and sometimes even the keys are kept at a manageable level.

The band will have to improve its songwriting to move ahead, but all the other parts are in place.

Three tunes in that Everclear pop mode, but trending to a kinda dull sound (a real danger in this are, to be sure).

Kinda bouncy, but the songs have a throw-away feel that is hard to shake. I mean, slacking off is one thing, and mellow pop is another, but it's hard to do both at the same time without sounding really boring. Micro Mini doesn't quite make it out of the pit.

Sweet and kinda charming, but I just can't get revved up for Micro Mini. I need just a bit more intensity or enthusiasm or something.

Now that I've laid the slab on the table, it says the a-side is "For Me". This despite the fact that the obvious front of the sleeve says "Gambler's Game". Perhaps I'm being a little neurotic here.

The Nightcaps sound just like you might imagine a band of that moniker might. Lounge music with just a bit of shake appeal. Not enough get me to shake a lot, but I know it's the style these days.

All you hep cats who like to slouch out and yell "Hey, now!" a lot, you just might take a bit of a groove on this. That's a guess on my part. No more of that silly talk, now.

Alterna-pop take on the blues, something like a more normal Jon Spencer Blues Experience deal. With some stuff that only a band from Little Rock could add.

This stuff is funnier than it is good. The music is middling, but some of the lyrics are downright inspired. Too bad you have to sit through the rather derivative music.

The production is basic demo work, leaving everything pretty muffled. It's possible to make out all of the instruments and vocals, though, so at least it's passable.

If the guys could write music to match their words, they'd really have something.

A few years back, Lawrence, Kansas got to be known as "Seattle Jr.". Bands like Paw and Stick got signed and released albums. My only problem is that these pseudo-grunge bands generally weren't very good.

I thought the time had passed, and some bands in the Lawrence/Kansas City are were actually cranking forward with a whole new sound. Unfortunately, Sacrifice Isaac is mining the old territory.

And it's even old style as far as grunge goes. There's just nothing new or original here, and this sound has been done to death. Repeatedly. Now, for a self-recorded album, this sounds quite good. Everything is very sharp; this is high-quality production. I wish I could say the same about the music.

I hate to run down bands from my old stomping grounds, but that's the way it goes.

A completely self-assured performance. Scout knows exactly the spot it's mining in the pop universe, and keeps hitting the mother lode.

Ashen Keilyn has that smoky alto voice that is positively intoxicating, particularly when mixed with sharp fuzzy guitar (which she also plays). Scout is smart enough to keep mixing things up, though, so no overdose on cheese.

It's really unusual for me to be so taken by a seven-inch. But Scout has all the tools necessary for greatness. And while this is only two songs, the band rips through so many musical ideas (while keeping things relatively simple), the only response can be rapt astonishment.

Pick this up and prepare for wonderment.

Fuzzy old style punk rawk. Like the album of a year ago, Speedball rides through the familiar territory of Motown inspiration the MC5. The aim isn't anything fancy, just killer riffs and stance, stance, stance.

Throwaway, but nice and crunchy on the way down. Four new tracks, all quality, and three live versions of songs from the album. The studio tunes are sharply produced and have that slightly metallic feel that seems to make everything alright. The live tracks are a bit muddled, but if you missed the album, you get a taste of the best tunes from that opus.

Not sure if even the members of Speedball know where this train is headed, but the bumpy ride is awfully fun. A cheap and easy drunk with no hangover.

What started as Rob Morgan using the Young Fresh Fellows as a backing unit playing some truly silly songs (and sillier versions of other folks songs) has managed to keep riding through loads of personnel (including the main men of the Posies and a ton of Seattle scene stalwarts).

Really goofy shit, if you must know. These tracks are taken from various Squirrels albums, songs from compilations and quite a few singles. And while a pretty much straight-up "Alone Again (Naturally)" (yes, a cover of the 1972 hit) managed somehow to get named best single by the Northwest Area Music Association (they're still checking for ballot-stuffing, I understand), there really aren't any hits to speak of.

Unless you count the "Seasons in the Sun/The Hustle" medley that appeared on the second Pravda Super Massive 70's Hit Explosions... compilation, I guess. Not like this should be taken seriously at all.

Liners from Mojo Nixon, Scott McCaughey, Ken Stringfellow and the authorized biography from Pete Bletcha, among other luminaries. Pop a beer, kick back, and try not to smile. Betcha do anyway.

Them Indiana boys again, with four tunes about life, love and bad TV. Well, they think it's good TV, but I won't hold it against them.

Standard punk-pop, a little short on the hooks this time out. Sure, it's still good enough to keep me bobbing, but I'm predicting chord changes and melodic ideas a bit too easily with these four songs. Should be a surprise every now and again, methinks.

I liked last year's album better than this stuff, which is just above middling. It takes a little more to keep my attention on the second spin. Squirtgun can do better.

I generally don't review re-issues, but since no one paid any attention when this album found major-label release almost 10 years ago, I figure it's safe to venture a thought or two.

This album, of course, had been promised when the Sweet Baby/Brent's TV set came out earlier this year. This is the first album, the only one of all the stuff that ever saw much of the light of day. Yeah, you got demo versions of a few of these tunes on that disc, but these versions sound a lot sharper.

Simply an East Bay classic a few years too early. Simply charming in its innocence, Sweet Baby was a band far out of time. Perhaps this renewed attention will do the band some justice. One can only hope.

Cardinal Woolsey, Jenifer Convertible, Baby Steps and more. Plenty interpretations of the alternative pop ideal, many leading back somewhere into dB's territory. Can't complain about that.

Now, of course, these bands are in NYC, not north Georgia. And most of these bands have come a long way from simple, sweet harmony land. Particularly cool are tracks from Bite the Wax Godhead (traditional anglo-pop laid over hip-hop beats) and Baby Steps (guitar by Kris Woolsey of Cardinal Woolsey).

Obviously, there is some carryover between bands, but most of these acts are the main projects of the people involved. A nicely diverse set from a group of NYC bands (um, okay, East Village bands). If you're wondering what that scene is doing these days, stop by for a drink.

A cool way to learn a bit more about the electronic side of Fifth Colvmn, a nifty side label by the name of Full Contact.

Rare and unreleased tracks from the likes of Chemlab, C17H19N03, Shinjuku Filth and more. In case you've missed recent releases from all those artists (and more), this compilation will get your head in the right space.

The range of possibilities in electronic music is pretty wide, and this set shows that quite well. Even those in the know might well be interested in giving this the once over. A worthy set, indeed.

Another compilation from the Fifth Colvmn folks, featuring tracks from the new Chemlab and Final Cut albums, along with stuff from Vampire Rodents, T.H.C., Acumen and more.

Unlike the Echo compilation, this set relies much more heavily on tracks from albums. Just a nice a starting point for the uninitiated, but not as important for current fans.

As for the unreleased stuff, there are remixes of Dessau and Trust Obey songs, and "Blind Acceleration" by Vampire Rodents is previously unreleased. Worth the price of admission, I might add, but I've been hyping VR for ages.

A reasonable set, but not enough unreleased stuff to move it past simple commercial sampler appeal.

The Local Music Store produces a show for cable radio called Music Choice Unsigned. Now, some of these bands have been signed in the past (like the first band, Stick) and since dropped, but the current status is all that matters.

This is, by design, a very uneven and wildly diverse set of music. About half of these bands are unsigned for a reason: They aren't doing anything original. Yeah, it seems like major labels keep releasing the same crap over and over again (it's true), but that stuff has been in the pipeline for quite a while before it hits the fan. I can assure you that few grunge (of which there are a few here) bands are getting the time of day from any label, much less a major.

Some of this stuff is pretty cool, though. Toy's "Everything Seems" is a nice little ditty, though I'd have to hear more to be really taken. I didn't really find much else that pricked up my ear, though plenty of this stuff is good enough to wander past a few A&R desks, I guess.

That's not enough to satisfy me, though. This set of tunes is rather excessively commercial-sounding for "unsigned" bands. Wish there was a bit more of a creative spark.