Don't believe the photo. Everyone had changed appearance from the glossy that accompanied this disc (except for drummer Bill Stevenson).

But the music hasn't. Still harsh, catchy and astute, ALL manages to capture the ironies of life with a backbeat you can dance to.

While new converts to (north) central Missouri, the guys manage to find the goofiness of life in a hick town right along with the intricacies of citified dwelling.

This music has to set you to grooving. There is no choice. Succumb.

Oh yeah, and they're incredible live. DO NOT MISS.

Wow. And you know I don't say that a lot. But I really like what they're trying to do here. A funky rhythm section tacked onto minimalist metal. Not a lot of melodic things going on for the most part, but then once you think you have pegged their sound they change again.

The closest I can put them to anything would be Faith No More, but even that is unfair. The Beyond has its own sound, a combination of many musical styles, including samples and some neat electronic trickery.

An album I want to spend a lot of time with. Don't play just one track, I don't care what the label says. To deny yourself this experience would be a very bad thing.

Relying more on traditional rock constructions rather than the pop-punk stylings they're known for, Chemical People still do not disappoint.

Guests galore help out remaining members Dave Naz(worthy) and Ed Urlik, including Robert Hecker, Brett Gurewitz, Jay Bentley and Lisa Poole. I think you know those folks. If not, look it up.

Oh, the music. Wandering more into Young Fresh Fellows territory, complete with a few horns, this is a change. Some of the fans at the station like it, some don't. But change is good, especially when it sounds like this.

Gorgeous, in a sick, grungy kinda way. This is one of those all-night, kick out the jams, oh my God is my head gonna hurt tomorrow drunks. Just put down on vinyl, not your gullet.

Strange, but I recall a statement I made about Texas bands somewhere else in this issue. Still stands here. Solid instrumental work combined with the vocal contortions of somebody (they won't admit who sang), this rocks in the purest sense. While few sixteen-year-olds will be cramming this in their jam boxes, lots of us more enlightened folk will be.

This album is a lot like going to see a movie sequel. You know what to expect, and if things go as you like, then you are satisfied. The Cro-Mags have done that here.

Nothing revolutionary, nothing that seriously deviates from the paths they struck out over ten years ago. But this is in no way a bad thing. The music is aggressive, a little commercial, but rather fun.

This is a fun ride. I wasn't expecting a genre-expanding album, just a spot of enjoyment. And I got it.

One of the few truly Satanic bands around. And I do think it's sweet Glen Benton wrote the lead track, "Satan spawn, the Caco-Daemon," for his son. But the real test is the music.

Not much of a progression from the last one. Very fast and aggressive, but nothing that hasn't been done a thousand times before.

If you liked their first album, then this is another batch of songs straight from the mold. While tradition is a good thing, in this genre, if you don't evolve and improve, you might as well get out of the way.

An extremely strong rhythm section drives Demolition Hammer on to its inevitable mindcrushing musical tantrums. Thoughtful lyrics (even though I don't agree with the point of view of a couple) keep this twisting into form.

Not just another grindcore/death metal band. The music is sparsely produced, as to bring to mind an engine of some sort. And the vocals are nicely grunted, fusing together the best results of enunciation and traditional death shouts.

An amazing piece of work. My blood is hot; I want to kill. Or at least feed off the adrenaline. Oh, what a feeling...

I thought the title was weird until I read the press. Or tried to. It was in Swedish. So the English was on the other side, but that was a fitting introduction to this fine band.

The production is rather slick, but like Atheist, Disharmonic Orchestra bring something new to the death metal game. I can't really put my finger on it, but I have never heard a band like this. And I love them!

Disharmonic Orchestra will be at the front of any future death metal assault upon the masses. They have the chops and songwriting skills to survive a long time. And if they manage to improve upon this, there will be no limits. What a disc!

Before they started in on the heavier-than-fuck sound that permeated Hate Songs in E Minor, Fudge Tunnel were merely one of England's finest grunge bands. This compilation puts together a couple of previously import-only EPs.

This reminds me of the re-issue of Soundgarden's Screaming Life and Fopp eps. Both bands have gone on to heavier things, but the past is at least as interesting as the present. And in this case, Fudge Tunnel recreated their sound in less than a year. Kinda interesting.

What is it about Tampa Bay that produces Euro-metal bands? A few years back I was really into Crimson Glory, and then a couple of years ago I got the first IE album from Century Media. Blew my shit into tomorrow.

As Crimson Glory have gone major and faded in a big way, now Iced Earth can be noticed for what they are: innovative, intelligent and just plain great.

This is a concept album, sort of tracing one man's path through the metaphysical choices we all must make at one time or another. But to judge this solely on lyrics would be absurd.

The music is what really impresses me. Heavy riffing, lots of extra touches (choirs, some lilting keys, etc.) that remind me of early Queensryche. And, of course, the Iron Maiden connection is always present. By meshing all this together, Iced Earth have created something that is truly unique; their own sound. And a great album.

Bassist Vince Vogel dropped this by at my graduation party. He was visiting a mutual friend and figured it might be a good idea. I'm not sure how you can get this if you want it, but why not call Nuclear Blast, who is starting up this label.

"Back to the grind" is how Vince described the music, and he should know. Side A's four songs have somewhat muddy production, especially the live track. The second side is just the single song "Sometimes".

And a great one. A vicious riff runs through the whole song, and everything comes together in a most pleasing way. If you can get your hands on this, do.

Kind of a weird supergroup, what with Mr. Jah Wobble's roots with P.I.L. (back when they were much more interesting) and Michel Schoots of UDS. Of course, Island or Atlantic or some biggie released an album by these guys a couple of months back, using the name Jah Wobble's Invaders of the Heart.

Moody as hell, with a few dance tracks, this is a much more interesting album than the major one. There's more music, for one. And the stuff is a little more out there. Lots of faux-international rhythms and melodies wandering around, sometimes even coherent. Not a straight-ahead piece of work.

The best Jesus band in the U.S. (with the possible exception of Liquid Jesus) returns with a taste from their new album. Kicks my ass, I'll tell you right away.

A nice rhythmic grind permeates both sides of this delicious disc. A tastiness beyond belief. If the album can live up to the standard set by this single, it will be a monster.

Um, to say I like this would be like calling George Bush a dick. You know both to be fact.

Not just a techno-house record, but something a little more brutal. Their 12" last summer was remixed by Final Cut, another much-heavier-than-techno conglomeration.

While the beats are still heavy and constant, the instrumentation is much more diverse than that now-annoying wank-synth stuff that is so common today. The female backing vocals aren't all boring wailers. The melodies are somewhat reminiscent of heroes Kraftwerk, rather unique and wandering, not stale and repetitive.

As a final grace, the lyrics transcend the "my God let's fuck now" message found in much techno. Ah, yes. Creativity rears its ugly head.

Undeniable talent, but Tony MacAlpine has at times compromised and released some cheese in attempts to cash in.

Not here. This stuff is about as good as it gets for instrumental guitar work. You have to expect a little masturbatory excess, but that is kept to a minimum. And MacAlpine knows when to stick with a groove rather than show off with his speed. B.B. King is a guitar master, and he never rushes a good note. A good lesson for all. Tony MacAlpine seems to have caught on.

A solid death metal album. Everything is where it should be, everything sounds like it should. But then I find something lacking.

A personal touch. While this is everything you could ask for in such an album, I want a little originality, something that gives me the opportunity to say definitively: "Yes, that's Monstrosity."

But this feeds my adrenal glands like a beast, so why bitch? Good question.

Where most of their earlier material had roots in hard core, this album goes more on the metal (and otherwise).

At once a more varied and more coherent album than Now! and their others, the lyrics are a little more serious and thought-provoking.

Where this kind of change made the Dead Milkmen simply boring, for Mucky Pup a modicum of maturity rounds out their sound quite well. They still won't know how to pigeonhole the band. That's good.

Meandering and majestic, Neurosis wanders around a loud musical playground, playing whatever comes up. They can whisper or blow your mind away. It just depends on the situation.

While most songs return to a brain-splitting Sabbath-esque riff, the trip there is always just as fun. Few bands have the diversity found in just one song. And the funny thing is that everything just flows together. There are no harsh starts and stops. It just keeps moving. Like Mind Over Four at its best.

To use a cliche for an ending here would not do the album justice. Suffice it to say this is an incredible accomplishment. Play is a must.

A typically Texan band - meaning no categorization possible. Wandering around fuzzy guitars and brutal percussion are true tales from the darkside: Jeff Dahmer, voodoo, that kind of thing.

An immensely listenable and throbbing album. More throbbing, but very good. To get a full sense of what I am talking about, you simply must listen. While the production sounds primitive, you soon realize that putting this (and their other) album (s) together was an almost Herculean task. One that should be applauded.

If you have not heard the 360's before (and it would be rather odd if you had), placing the sound seems obvious at first. Audrey Clark has a kinda Kim Deal-ish sound, and the band dredges up images of both Soundgarden and My Bloody Valentine. Producer Sean Slade is known for making Buffalo Tom and Dinosaur Jr. dorm-hold names. So this is about what to expect.

Now claiming Salem, Mass., instead of Boston, except for the vocals they could be from anywhere. And since this is getting the big label distribution push, the 360's seem primed for the big time. Noise freaks of all kinds should enjoy this one.

More talent than you can shoot on a good day here. And I must say I often like rock covers of blues songs. But sometimes it comes off sorta overwrought and overproduced.

For the most part, this is tasteful and sparse. No extra overdubs, no soul stripped. The originals, of course, are better, but this is at least as good as the last couple of Gary Moore pseudo-blues albums, at times a lot better. This is a good way to get the kids to appreciate a music form that has been a lot more influential on what they listen to than they think. Bravo.

There's a problem inherent in the music industry. Well, it's a business. That means if you are creative and refuse to play what the people want, then you don't make money. Unless you're really lucky. Then you establish a new sound. And then everyone copies you.

These are completely (almost) unknown guitarists who are out to make their mark on the music world. But they mostly sound like those who have come before. Especially present is the Joe Satriani school of thought, but there are a few Steve Vai devotees as well. It is all mostly a San Francisco thing.

These guys can play, no doubt. But they should pick up their own styles. Makes for longer (if less profitable) careers.