From the looks of things, this Kiwi trio has been cranking out a large amount of music for a long time under at least two names, going by the Gordons through the mid-80s, and Bailter Space since 1987 or so. Alright, so there were at least a couple of lineup changes, but you get the gist.

And the main point is that Bailer Space likes to play pop music without regard for structure, volume considerations or any convention whatsoever. Unlike Sonic Youth, with whom this band has been compared many times, Bailter Space has continued to evolve, incorporating new ideas all along the way.

The result is somewhere between Storm & Stress and any number of emo-core bands. There are some undeniably gorgeous moments ("Dome" comes to mind), but just when I settle into a groove with the music, Bailter Space shifts reality again. Unnerving, but ultimately more satisfying.

This album pushes the pop envelope in both attractive and disquieting ways. The members of Bailter Space seem to have an inner understanding of how to make music that truly connects. It's so easy to get lost, and once there, who cares?

Gee whiz guitar playing, without much regard for presentation or feel. This is very much a sequenced project, and Bellas doesn't even try to rough up the sterile edges.

Much of the playing (if not all) is run through MIDI, and that "soft" digital sound leaves the lines sounding almost computer-generated. Oh, I'm sure Bellas played them and all, but the sound is just too tinkly for me.

Other than the solos, almost no thought seems to have been paid to songwriting and the backing music. I'm being harsh, because I know how hard it is to put this sort of thing together, but Bellas simply has left the artistic side of his talent out of this disc. Can he play expressively, instead of relying on pyrotechnics? Can any of his songs make sense without an attached solo? I can't answer either of those questions after listening to this disc.

Almost an artificial album. I know that human hands were heavily involved, but there is no residue from that touch to be heard.

The second set from this group of Aussie transplants who met at the U of Illinois. I was surprised at how well the guys seemed to understand American roots rock after hearing the first album, and this one beats that by a mile.

The sound is much more assured, with fewer self-conscious tics and a greater feel for that whole "midwestern" sound. The songs are timeless, the touch just right. A simply fantastic set of songs.

It takes a certain non-chalance to really make this sound work. The harmonies are fairly tight, but not overbearingly so. The playing is sharp, but in an offhanded sorta way. A tough trick to master, but Bludgers seems to have found the secret.

I'm not sure how to praise this album much more. See, if a band actually tries to make music like this, it never works. You simply have to fall into it. I hope Bludgers never finds its way out.

The last time I heard this band, it was on Taang! and the sound was very rough. In fact, the one big redeeming factor was the exuberance of the performances.

With ska-core supposedly being the next big thing (I've commented plenty on this recently), larger labels are picking up some long-time scene survivors and cleaning up the sound(witness the last two Voodoo Glow Skull records on Epitaph, etc.), and the majors are scooping up any band with a cute lead singer.

Buck-O-Nine fits into the former category. The songs here are very tight, the playing almost mechanical. The horns are precise, as if placed there by a computer. By-the-numbers ska. Competent but unexciting.

I'll let my brothers hassle them for misspelling Albuquerque. As for the album, this sounds way too calculated. I know, I'm still coming down from the Blue Meanies experience (which is still in heavy rotation in my car), but I want more. That spirit of "anything can happen" is gone, probably forever. I'm sure they sell more records now, but this is nowhere near as much fun. Since few ska bands will score points on musical sophistication, that's gotta be how I judge this. And Buck-O-Nine comes up lame.

A nice restatement of the gothic death metal style epitomized by the likes of Edge of Sanity and Cemetary. Crack Up tends a bit more to the extreme, but nonetheless has a good feel for melodic power.

More than a hint of industrial rhythms, so that Crack Up grinds rather than slogs along. The songs are generally short in length and long on quality riffage. Eat the stuff like popcorn.

The press note compares Crack Up to Gorefest, and I'd have to concur. The strong and assured songwriting combined with impassioned playing fits that bill. Surprisingly good for a debut disc.

Music that makes me proud to love death metal. Good music is good music, with all labels thrown out. Crack Up makes good music.

Very traditional black metal. Lots of keyboards, with the guitars serving basically as background noise. Dimmu Borgir does a pretty good job of using the keyboards to make music instead of mush, but I still wish they could have been integrated with the guitars better.

And like average black metal bands, Dimmu Borgir gets caught up in convention. The band kicks off quite a few nice grooves, and then quits them in favor of much lesser musical ideas. Lots of scales descanting while the songs slowly turn turgid.

More in need of good editing rather than a complete overhaul. This stuff is often quite good (the guitars even get going from time to time), but the arrangements are horridly inconsistent. For example, the first minute or so of "In Death's Embrace" is high-powered stuff, but then the song inexplicably slows up for about three minutes in the middle. Yeah, the git-up-and-go returns, but not after dragging the song down.

So much potential. So much bungled music. Such a shame.

Swedish grunge. I know, I can hear the Entombed jokes already, but this is the real thing. Downstroke plays a stripped down version of the Alice in Chains thing, which is about the most interesting thing on the disc.

In other words, grunge without massive levels of distortion. Yeah, I know, this tends to point out the dull song construction, but it's still unusual. I like that.

And when the guys work themselves into a proper groove, well, the songs are at least decent. This doesn't happen much (Downstroke is pretty much a traditional grunge band, after all), but enough to keep me from screaming.

The novelty of clean guitar lines wore off pretty quickly. I'd prefer to hear some good music. Downstroke is far too generic to qualify there. Solid playing and intriguing production aside, there isn't much to hear here.

A lot of noise. Crashing guitars, slogging drumwork and bass lines that would make Geezer Butler cringe. Combined with vocals that have more than a bit of that Rage talk-rap style.

When things calm down (and they do, after a few anxious moments), the music still has one of those "impending doom" feels. Not a bad thing, but the guys don't deliver. The songs stay stuck in a rut all the way through.

Almost as if these guys really don't like this kind of music, but they feel the need to play it because they think that's what sells. I can't be sure about this, but there is such a lack of feel here I have nowhere else to turn.

I read a review of Leaving Las Vegas that called it "an art movie for people who hate art movies". This wasn't a compliment. I'd call Elevate a noise pop band for people who hate noise pop. Except that those folks won't like this, either.

I'm stopping before I get as confused as the music here.

When I started A&A six years ago, this was a very prevalent sound: hardcore metal ramblings, with a serious Black Sabbath fixation.

Times have changed, tastes have changed, and yet here is Fall from Grace resurrecting images of Non-Fiction and that whole sound. And while a good number of years have passed, I can't hear anything exceptional in Fall from Grace's sound. Nothing to indicate the passage of time. Almost like a time capsule.

Nothing terrible, just somewhat dull. I still like this guitar sound (it's a version of that "clean grunge" thing, kinda like what Downstroke was trying), but I've heard all these songs before, even if they have new lyrics.

You can't go home again. For better or worse, that's what Fall from Grace is attempting to do. There is no success without growth.

A reviewed a tape some six months ago, and this set falls right in the same territory. Jangly pop with throaty vocals that are just a bit to the Hootie man for my comfort.

When Five Dollar Milkshake kicks up the tempo, I can almost handle it. But the moping comes back around, and my stomach starts doing that flipping thing. Uncontrollable, really.

I'm not sure what it is about brooding white guys, but they really get on my nerves. I know, the lyrics are trying to be clever and incisive, but they don't make it. And the music, while well-played, just bugs me too much.

I'm sure there's an audience for this sort of thing. I'm just not in it.

"Just call it 'surrealist death-rock'." So sez the attached note. Indeed, Gomorra plays something akin to death metal, though with a stripped-down gothic feel. It kinda sounds like My Dying Bride playing Sisters of Mercy.

Which is pretty cool, really. The production left a lot of space, and that emphasizes the strikingly different playing styles Gomorra cycles through. Indeed, one certainly with this disc is that each new song surprised me. The sequencing flow isn't very good, obviously, but the songwriting breadth is impressive.

I don't know if Gomorra knows what sort of band it wants to be, but at least this disc shows its range. As with any band that is struggling to expand its sound, there are a few missed shots. But in general, this stuff connects.

A solid disc from a band that certainly has talent and potential. A fun ride.

A big sticker on the front proclaims "Produced by Joey Molland of Badfinger". That's supposed to be a kicker? Maybe for aging baby boomers who haven't heard a good band since Grand Funk Railroad broke up.

Luckily, Hannah Cranna's music outpaced the expectations that sticker provided. Not by a lot, mind you, but this stuff isn't dreck or anything. It is, however, a sharper produced and somewhat better written version of the "whiny white guy" music that I bitched about in the Five Dollar Milkshake review.

Actually, the production is the best thing about this disc. It captures some emotion and feeling that the actual performances lack. This is very pretty and all, but I simply cannot identify with the subject matter.

A weak version of the sort of thing the Jayhawks still do very well. In fact, the more I listen to this the more I'm reminded of some of the worse moments on the first two Jayhawks albums on American. Moodiness without meaning. Oh, it sounds gorgeous, but the music is still a big doughnut. Hollow in the middle.

I'm not sure if it's a manufacturing defect or what, but Hard Candy's attempt at moody jangle pop comes off as spooky.

That weird whine in the background might be keyboards, or it just might be a bad pressing. I can't say, but I like that part. The lyrics are fairly amusing (the title of the seven-inch gives you an idea), but they don't fit the very strange sound of the band.

Whatever. I wish I knew precisely what caused this odd noises currently escaping my turntable, but I suppose I'll just have to accept them. For very ordinary songwriting, this sounds awfully cool.

Another set of wistful pop tunes from Jason Hill. And while the production is pretty bad (he allows that this was "recorded on cheap equipment", after all), the quality of the songs shines through.

It's a tape like this that convinces me I'm not completely far gone in panning many of the other releases in this issue. A lot of people have the inclination to write songs about love gone wrong and the consequences thereof. But most people skirt around the real issues, leaving bland lyrics over blander music.

Hill has an interesting way of writing his songs on his guitar, and his lyrics are intensely personal and almost painful to hear. That is how to make music like this really work.

While the playing and production are still not high-quality, the songs are even better than the last tape I reviewed. I sure hope someone notices this guy soon and gives him just a little scratch to make a decent record. As long as the better surroundings don't remove the charm.

My advice on the last Hurl record was to throttle down and let the nice songwriting show up more. If it read my advice, the band passed on it. Good thing, too, because instead the guys simply wrote better songs that sound great when the volume is cranked.

Not to say that the band has deviated from its eclectic noise pop positioning or anything like that. Like fellow Pittsburghers Don Caballero, these guys know how to bash out a tune or two. But the main emphasis is on exploring the edges of musical coherence.

And while somewhat harrowing, the trip is an amazing one. Hurl eschews any sort of formal song construction in favor of a swiftly shifting free-flow position. Many of the songs have many separate components. Sometimes they come together at the end, and sometimes they don't.

But the artistry is there. This is high quality work, a couple notches above A Place Called Today. A couple notches above most bands.

An utterly gorgeous package, with extensive (if rather cryptic) liner notes booklet. If you're not in the know, DGM is Robert Fripp's record company. In typical Fripp fashion, the catalog contains the company's mission statement. And the copyright notice is as follows: "The phonographic copyright in these performances is operated by Discipline Global Mobile on behalf of the artists, with whom it resides. Discipline Global Mobile accepts no reason for artists to give away such copyright interests in their work by virtue of a 'common practice' which is out of tune with the time, was always questionable and is now indefensible.". And while all the printed material may take a while to digest, don't forget that the music is King Crimson. 'Nuff sed.

The two discs here comprise two shows in December 1969 at Fillmore West in San Francisco, a November 1969 show at Fillmore East in New York and four tracks recorded for BBC Radio. The sound quality is bad, though not uniformly so. The most interesting thing I noticed is that the original incarnation of King Crimson sounds a lot more like Black Sabbath than I remembered.

Of course, I'm not a big fan, but I appreciate all of the chances King Crimson (in all of its incarnations) has taken. Not everything worked, but when it did (check out the renditions of Holst's "Mars" at the end of each disc), hoo boy, it's something else.

Like I noted, the sound quality is bad, and there are many moments of excessive feedback or where one or more of the instruments seems to drop off completely. Still, if you like to study how musicians evolve, comparisons of solos and other bits between the various performances are absolutely fascinating. And I kinda like early Crimson best, before Fripp and whatever cohorts he rounded up got so obsessed with highly technical playing. Almost 30 years after the fact, this music is still very obviously alive.

Krueger handled everything here except the drumming, and he ends up sounding a lot like mid-80s Tom Petty, somewhere between Dylan and Marshall Crenshaw. There are worse places to land, certainly.

Kreuger's voice is rather thin, but his songs don't require much vocal work exertion and he sounds pretty good. His guitar lines are very nice, and he shows a flair for flying across various styles in a short span of time. A solo that starts off as a sorta folky bit of strumming gets mutated into a nice bit of sliding work.

A bit cheesy, perhaps, and not particularly original, Krueger's music still satisfies. He's not at all self-conscious about partaking of the 60s rock vibe (there's even a cover of the Stones' "Child of the Moon"), and his obvious pleasure translates into assured, confident music.

Good music for the oncoming summer. Nothing too difficult to digest, but this music won't insult your intelligence, either. A pleasant diversion.

Funk with real horns, and a somewhat fusion feel to the whole project. The playing is good and the intentions every better, but the grooves just aren't quite there.

The problem is in the rhythm section, where the bass and drums seem stuck in a wanky funk mode. Very little diversity in the beats, and if every song is built around much the same line, well, it doesn't matter how cool the peripherals are.

And the thing is, the sax, clarinet and harp all really add to the sound, and in fact they shine despite the mundane songs. But there's no escaping the plain and simple truth: the music is dull.

Lovecraft simply doesn't take the tunes anywhere. The sound stagnates despite the best attempts. Too bad.

As in Phil Mogg and Pete Way (both best known for their work in UFO), with George Bellas on guitar and Aynsley Dunbar drumming. A solid lineup.

With mixed results. Mogg Way reminds me more of Bad English (Phil Mogg is sounding a lot like John Waite these days) than UFO. On more basic rock songs like "Fortune Town", the band sounds solid and confident. But many more of the songs are dull, plodding retreads that would have a hard time finding a place on a Winger album.

Some extra time working up material would really have helped a lot. Mogg, Way and company obviously have some chemistry, but there aren't enough good songs here to properly showcase it. Too bad, really.

This should have been much better. A chance missed.

What Sly might sound like on acid. Jazz, that is. My Brother's Keeper mixes some smooth horn sounds with a loosely funky rhythm section. Mellow but agile, smooth and sophisticated.

This is the perfect counterpoint to the Lovecraft disc I reviewed in this issue. Everything that band was trying to do, MBK does. The horn section is fuller, and the basic band seems to simply understand funk and soul much better.

Retro without being a mere retread, MBK kicks out jam after jam, from ballads to master blasters. The range is astonishing, and the playing even more so. This is what a horn group was meant to sound like.

Nice to hear a band that knows what it wants to sound like and manages to get there. Five studio tracks and five live tracks (the sound quality is almost as good with the live songs, and the horns prove they can do it in any setting), but still nowhere near enough. A wonderful surprise.

Basic pop music, with a wry twist. Shelley has obviously done his homework (years as a radio DJ couldn't hurt), and he knows how to set a hook.

Good as it goes. There's nothing complicated going on here, but as you know, making simple pop music is anything but. Shelley matches his lyrics and music well, maximizing the catchiness potential.

Nothing more and certainly nothing less. Shelley keeps everything on an even, easy keel. The production leaves the music laid back, though still quite full. Just where you want it to be.

I have a hard time describing albums like this. I like the stuff (a lot, actually), but once I get past white guy pop, well, there's only so much I can say. Give it a listen. You won't be disappointed.

A most unusual sound. Shuttlecock plays traditional rock and roll with drums and various electronic implements. Keyboards? Plain sequenced stuff? Hard to say. But it sure is intriguing.

The vocals are rather screechy and are probably manipulated in some way. The best way to describe the whole is something like early Devo as a hardcore band.

I can't forget about the "flute jazz" moments. Is it a flute? A recorder? Some weird electronic thing? I don't care, really.

Utterly weird. I have no idea if Shuttlecock can convince very many people that this is a useful musical direction, but hell, I'm in the bag. If you have a desire to scope out the bizarre, here's one right up your alley. Enjoy.

A regrouping of the old Black Mark band Rosicrucian. The technical approach continues, though this is much more straightforward. Almost Anthraxy, in a good way.

So you get more of a classic heavy Euro sound, with enough melodic lines to sound sophisticated and enough raw power to impress today's metal fanatics.

As this wears on, the Pantera connection becomes obvious. I think this sounds much better than recent Pantera, but the imitation factor is still there. I kept waiting for a song to break out of the rut, but it didn't happen. Too bad, really.

I think the guys need to focus more on their unusual tendencies and forget trying to play the marketplace. Trends are set by bands who dare to experiment, like Rosicrucian did. This has all the hallmarks of a cash out. Bummer.

Produced by Alister Parker of Bailter Space, so that might give some hint. The result is a raucous noise pop excursion that reminds me a lot of the first Brainiac album. Just enough melody to paint an outline, with a line on some pure musical energy feeding the rest.

The songs are fairly short, but packed full of ideas. The density of the sound (and the lines within) is astonishing. Sunday Puncher has almost a perfect feel for this kind of music, and this album has been set up perfectly. Production, playing, writing, everything.

I know lots of folks can't imagine this sort of music as catchy, but that's what these songs are. Yeah, they're really messy and loud, but like Starfish and other such ace practitioners, these guys can wrap all of that into a warped hook that is truly amazing. I'm rather shocked by how accessible this seems.

But that's a sign of genius, methinks. Sometimes everything works out right. This is an example, and I'm not asking questions. I'll merely keep listening, thankyouverymuch.

I figured something had to give. It has been years since Testament recorded an interesting album, and as Metallica has moved on to mellower pastures, I figured Testament might follow suit.

Instead, a direct 180 from there. This is an album of technical death metal. Chuck Billy's vocals have been processed into a rather ominous growl, and I don't think any more Metallica comparisons will be coming down the pike.

Fear Factory, perhaps, although Demonic has more of the feel that the most recent Death and Suffocation albums had. So technically proficient and anthemically melodic that it almost isn't death metal, but for Testament, this is quite the move.

Surprised the shit out of me. After that dreadful live album, I couldn't imagine anything good coming out of this camp. I don't mind saying I was absolutely wrong. This is more than enough to jumpstart the Testament bus and get it moving toward the top again.

A sort of odds and ends collection. The main album has a couple of alternate and live takes along with Scorpions, Judas Priest and Iron Maiden covers. The last seven tracks consist of the soundtrack for "The Golden Embrace".

These recordings are much more melodic and "retro" metal sounding than the most recent Therion releases. The covers are interesting, I suppose, although "Children of the Damned" is pretty awful. This is certainly one of those "collectors" type packages.

And as such, there's more than enough to satisfy the basic Therion fan. The level of musical sophistication and sense of adventure is missing, but what remains is solid musicianship and an ear for power melodies.

The soundtrack portion is mostly instrumental, with some vocal parts singing mostly German or nonsense syllables (la la la, etc.). The music is, well, about exactly what is expected: synth heavy hard rock with lots of classical overtones. Good, but not great.

For what it aspires to be, this is a good album. I still want to hear more of the latter-day Therion, which is certainly a couple notches above this set.

Solid, if unspectacular, pop rock. Nothing is particularly great, but the band clicks together well, and Travalini's vocals are well suited to this bar band style.

And, indeed, there's a long tradition of such acts along the East Coast. Bands good enough to amuse a bar's worth of patrons with original tunes, but not necessarily with aspirations much past that.

The loose approach to the music makes it more appealing, and I could easily see myself tossing down a couple pitchers with a few friends with these guys on stage. Nothing flashy, nothing brilliant, just fairly good music.

I've always had a soft spot in my heart for the working band, and that's exactly what Tony Travalini & All the Rage is. And a pretty good one, at that.

Another of the aggro industrial outfits that seem to plague (in a good way) Vancouver. This album seems a bit more calculated and somewhat less brutal than the debut. Much more techno in a traditional sense (I get a big FLA feel) and perhaps not quite so experimental.

But much more consistent. Once I got over the excesses and extremes of the first album, I was left with a somewhat middling impression. This album moves quickly to take care of that.

Change is good, and I think the pullback from the hardcore is the right one. There are still plenty of mean and loud moments, but now they have a context in which to work. And that makes moments like the intro to "Traces" even more effective. Incorporating the experimental sampled sounds into the entire song, making the whole coherent. This is the right idea.

I wasn't expecting quite this level of sophistication, but I'm happy to hear it. And for the name dropping fans, there are remixes by Rhys Fulber, 16 Volt and Tensor. Making this package as complete as any might want. no room for complaints.

I really like the idea of a network by which bands can distribute their self-released albums. My problem with much of what I've heard from the Local Music Store is that the fare has tended to be more mundane than adventuresome.

This compilation, however, features a lot of bands that fall somewhere within the emo universe. I know, that's the trend these days, but I like it. And most of these artists are trying to do something original, anyway.

And for every dull song, there are two good ones. Antihistamine Daydream's "Special K" is a great example of the leaps this compilation makes over earlier ones. The song is a loopy trip through all sorts of moods and effects. It doesn't exactly make sense, but it sure is fun to hear.

And in general, this is good sight better than the stuff I've gotten from these folks. I'm quite encouraged.

West is the singer for Artension (also on Shrapnel). He's got the usual Shrapnel sides (including George Bellas, making his third appearance in this issue) and has crafted an album of mid-70s power rock.

I do wish the keyboards sounded more like an organ than a Casio, but even so, the songs show off West's considerable singing talent. And unlike some prodigious belters, West actually manages to convey the feelings of his songs.

But where the singing and playing are good, the song arrangements sound almost artificial. This goes much further than the keyboards, whenever West isn't singing the sound simply takes off into some alternate universe. This is more than a bit disconcerting.

West pulls this album through on the strength of his voice alone. And if the other parts had made a bit more sense, then this might have been a real statement.