The one easy way to categorize Secretly Canadian is that no two releases sound alike. I likes that a lot. Ativin plays a very deliberate form of emo, not unlike what Engine Kid was noodling about five or so years ago, though with a bit more emphasis on melodic ideas, no matter how nonlinear.

Instrumentals, too, which aren't a bad idea. The focus is on the music, which is wonderfully conceived. The sound is lo-tech, but still sharp enough to emphasize all of the empty spaces.

Let your mind wander a bit, and you'll be surprised what you can come up with. Ativin has a stimulating effect on my brain cells, and I'm sure you'll find the same to be true. Not trippy, just contemplative. Understated in all the right ways. Quite well done.

A group of faceless and nameless folks try and resurrect the sound of the Ventures and other such second-tier surf instrumental acts of the sixties. I have more than a few ideas as to the identities of the players, and if I'm right, contractual obligations to other labels are the reason for the lack of names. In truth, the whole anonymous thing is probably used in order to drum up interest in a decidedly tepid album.

One of the joys of good surf music is the unrestrained energy that goes into its making. This sounds like much of Dick Dale's stuff from that era, when labels told him to "calm down". And even with more than a little Duane Eddy twang action, the Blue Stingrays can't really excite me.

On the other hand, if you're one of those folks who really likes anything that has even the smallest scent of surf overtones, then this will probably do you fine. I think all of the secrecy is silly, but considering the middling quality of the music, perhaps I should rethink my theory again. Maybe they just didn't want their names on such a mediocre album.

Meticulously crafted power jangle pop. That excessive hand of creation leaves most of the songs sounding somewhat clunky (the band never really cuts free), but at least the blueprints plot out a fine course.

Paula Kelly has a cool voice that she melds into a snotty sneer, almost avoiding that Kim Deal baby doll sound that has gotten really annoying. She's perfectly suited for this sort of music, and the mildly abrasive lyrics fit her to a T. Of course, she wrote the songs she sings, so that makes sense.

The other guitarist, Jake Zavracky, handles the vocal work on his songs, and while his tunes are bit more open, the band still seems to be struggling a bit to make things work.

I really do wish the band could loosen up a bit. Both singers are quite good, and the song subjects drip a nicely diluted acid. If the clunky factor could get addressed, these folks could be quite fine.

Braun has a classic folk voice (rather imperfect, but those imperfections are what gives it character), and she crashes through a set of raucous acoustic music. Not quite folk, not quite country and not quite pop, she's carved a nice little sound here.

Now, Braun does give in to the folk tendency of rather clumsy lines (some editing would have helped smooth over some of the overwrought bits), but her slightly off-key singing helps to emphasize the unusual tacks of her lyrics.

She runs through covers of "What Wondrous Love Is This" (done with a cappella overdubs, kinda emphasizing her somewhat inaccurate tones) and "Stand by Me" (a hymn, not the pop song, done western swing-style, complete with pedal steel), the first not terribly good, but the second a perfect example of her talent in evoking songs.

Spotty and inconsistent, but some true shards of glory within. Braun may not be the best with the technical aspects of singing or playing guitar, but she knows how to draw out the most from a song. An intriguing set.

Another instrumental album featuring a drummer (my second in two issues). And when you consider that the drummer is Bill Bruford, probably best known for his work with King Crimson.

Add Ralph Towner on guitar (piano, and much more) and Eddie Gomez on bass, and the sound runs somewhere along the lines of the Ginger Baker Trio. Bruford's percussion work is a bit more sensitive and less bombastic, but still, I think the comparison is a good one.

The liner notes take pains to emphasize that this is not just another example of rock types "playing at jazz". I'm not a fan of labels, and in any case, this is a good album. It happens to be jazz. Bruford is the leader, and he happens to be a drummer.

Most of the album lies on the cool side, and Bruford showcases his considerable talents in subtle ways (check out "Somersaults" for some truly impressive playing that never resorts to bashing). His sides are quite talented, and the music they make is inspired. Quietly absorbing. And, like the most recent Ginger Baker Trio album (excerpts of which are used interludes for NPR's All Things Considered), a disc that will continue to be heard for a long time to come.

Now that there's money to be had in the punk game, Chaos U.K. has hit the studio and crapped out a "comeback" disc.

The sound is positively horrific. And then there's the weird narration which wanders throughout the disc. I think it's supposed to be funny, but it doesn't work for me.

This sort of music really needs to be cranked up in both the speed and sound categories. But much too often, tunes sound like muffled dirges. The odd nice bit like "Take Me to San Clemente" gets drowned out by most of the rest.

All too predictable. I'm kinda bummed that this didn't even have that old "one hundred percent two fingers in the air" (yes, I understand the saying now) sentiment.

Now that old collaborator Damon Edge has died, Helios Creed comes back and tries on the Chrome mantle for the first time in ages. And since he was the real creative genius of the band in the first place, this is the first satisfying Chrome album in quite a while.

Mostly because it sounds an awful lot like a Helios Creed album. Those are always good for wild trips into a depraved musical imagination, and sometimes some truly great music, period. While replete with the self-indulgence that characterizes Creed's work, this album still manages to resurrect the Chrome ideal even as it cranks forward into the future.

What I wanted to hear was that wonderful, crazed guitar sound that has made Creed famous. The first time it arrived was in "More Space", the fourth track, and then it fully populated the subconscious of the most excessive track, "Retro Trans Mission" (almost a title track). I don't think anyone has ever harness as much nuance in processed feedback as Creed.

Entirely satisfying, even if the Chrome formula almost always leaves something to be desired. Creed has proved that the past is the future, replicating the old Chrome sound and making it positively modern.

Strange, alternate reality song titles ("She Draws Pictures of the Devil in Me", "All the Dogs Learn to Read", etc.), song construction which allows each instrument to wander out on its own, and a cool gothic hardcore feel to everything.

I've never heard anything like it. The lyrics are biting, though sometimes almost on the silly side. The guitar and bass often do not have anything to do with each other, and the drummer provides an odd rolling feel to all the songs, at least until everything crashes in come kind of weird sonic implosion. And this is every song, mind you.

Despite the chaos and general messiness, it works. Yeah, kookiness has its place, and since nothing involved with Dread Motif seems connected to any sort of regular conception of reality, all that weirdness contributes to something cool.

Certainly a tough sell for the mainstream, but Dread Motif is firmly ensconced in its own beautiful, crazy world. A wonderfully complicated and textured band. For pure brillance, check out the last minute of "All the Dogs Learn to Read". Bliss.

An Argentinean pop band that incorporates plenty of Latin and South American melodic and rhythmic ideas. And then dumbs them down into stuff palatable for the masses.

As a counterpoint, the Rumba Club (which I reviewed last issue) takes the same ideas and makes something greater than the original. El Calefon wants to sell lots of records, so it strips the rhythms to the bone, taking out most of the nuance (and thus most of the bounce) and then adding in very basic melodies.

Yeah, there are horns and quite a few other nice bits of window dressing. But even horn-thick tunes like "Burbujas de Amor" and "El Burrito" sound a lot like late 70s Chicago (with a psuedo-Latin groove). Sure, it's easy on the ears, but I'm waiting for the challenge.

Uncomplicated, and in the end, unsatisfying pop music. I'd much rather hear the inspiration and not this result.

These guys were raised on that Beantown sludge, and they give as good as they've heard. This is a nicely metallized version of the same, thick with chunky riffs and nice, driving rhythms. The mixture is stirred at all times.

Pounding, throbbing, heaving excitement. The songs are tightly written and expertly played, with a very cool sound which emphasizes thickness and yet leaves room for sharp moments. This is much harder to accomplish than you might think.

I haven't been sludged this well in quite a while. These guys are pretty damned funny (try "(I Will Survive) Just to Hate You" on for size), and the music is simple, but quite well executed.

It's not brain surgery by any means, but then, these guys don't try to make anything more of what they do, either. The lack of pretentiousness is great, and the music ain't bad, either.

A cool power pop threesome. All three members write songs, and all three sing their own songs. The songwriting styles are fairly distinctive, and each member sings rather differently. Kinda like listening to three different bands.

I like that, really. All three are fairly good song writers, and the way the band as a whole manages to meld itself to each members singing style is pretty impressive.

A good number of the songs get lost at one point another or simply find themselves in inextricable positions. Usually playing live can work out those kinks, and I'd say Gerty should have tried this stuff out a bit more before committing it to tape. Probably would have removed the odd clunky factor.

Still, a fairly good album. There's a lot here to like, and plenty of room for future growth.

Mineral kicks this fine set off with an astonishing cover of the well-worn torch song "Crazy". If you think this song has already been interpreted to its full extent, you simply must hear this rendition. The finely-honed guitar lead (which is nothing more than barely-controlled distortion) sets the tone, and the rest follows. A real stunner.

Jimmy Eat World impresses, as always, with "Secret Crush". The sound is a bit messed up because the compression necessary to fit this song and the Sense Field tune on the same side, but the song itself is a great emo raveup. Highest quality.

And thus Sense Field brings up the rear with "Every Reason", one of its better efforts. The excessive punch that is often imposed upon the band's songs is toned down just enough (though it could be that compression thing, again) to let the song breathe.

Beg, borrow or steal to get this slab of joy. Some of the best emo talent around with three great songs. Where to go wrong?

Taking the riffola of Circus of Power and tossing that in the machine along with quite a few Mother Love Bone tendencies, Jozlin Bones has a sound that would have really turned heads a couple years back.

This is the older of two releases the band sent me (the other will be reviewed in the next issue), but even so, I like the way these folks combine various elements of power metal. The sounds isn't anything new, but this presentation still sounds fresh and vibrant.

And, once again, the worm has turned and metal is no longer an "out" term. It's not in, but I think that might change soon enough. And without considering sill notions like that, Jozlin Bones flings out some cool music.

Possibly too restrained and cultured at times to really fit into that whole "metal" thing, Jozlin Bones has enough skill and musical dexterity to play something for just about any fan of loud music from the past 20 years. The fun factor cannot be denied.

Laswell covers the bass, Style Scott takes the drums, and a few friends help fill out this rambling exploration of the dub.

And what a trip. Laswell and Scott provide an ever-evolving rhythm base, and the other folks (including Laswell) overdub lots of creative soundscape materiel. The base of all these songs are real-time instruments, but the flight is provided by some fine electronic tricksters.

The songs are long and drawn out, and in this particular case, that is precisely the way to travel. This way, the musical ideas are given time to fully germinate, providing a full bloom of gorgeous power by the finish.

Precisely the sort of recording I count on from Wordsound. Ever more creative ways to use technology and talent to create sound sculptures that are best appreciated by an open and curious mind. Not just a dub meltdown, but a mutation of the dub in the best sense. Very exciting.

Recorded to a four-track and barely mixed, Tom Leach has nonetheless managed to create songs of spare sound but overwhelming emotional impact.

The general shoddy quality of the sound probably is a help, in the long run. For starters, Leach's quaky vocals are the perfect compliment to the dense, complicated lyrical webs he spins. And the hiss and pops help to propagate a feeling of authenticity. You know a real man is singing these songs of pain, loss and even newfound joy.

Leach sticks pretty much to the Johnny Cash boom-chicka-boom style of playing (and if there's a backing percussion track, it runs along those lines, as well), and if the man in black is looking for songs for his next album, he would do well to check this disc out.

The songs are short, and the album clocks in at just less than 40 minutes, and yet the effect on my is almost paralyzing. A stunning effort.

I've been a big fan of Loop Guru's since I first heard Amrita, the band's second album. The astonishing amalgamation of music from across time and around the globe into a coherent, joyous mesh simply entranced me. This disc merely continues my appreciation.

Not content to sit still, Loop Guru has continued to search out new sources of inspiration. The Indian and Asian connections are still tight, but this album also incorporates some of the latest ideas in electronic music as well. The form is seamless, which is probably the most amazing part.

The songs here range a bit further than on Amrita. The songs vary in tempo and feel a bit more, though the full, deep texture of previous work is sacrificed a bit in favor of leaner, tighter songs. Which is better, I really can't say. All I know is that Loop Bites Dog is quality of the first order.

Few acts have the ability or even interest in creating music such as this. Loop Guru accomplishes a great deal, and does so without losing a sense of amusement with the human condition. The most important influence here is joy, and it is refracted a hundred-fold.

I found her recent studio album to be decent, though not terribly adventurous. Tania Maria has a good voice, and she can play keyboards and piano well. But that recording seemed intended for a mainstream audience, and I wasn't overly impressed.

On the other hand, the seven tracks here (recorded live at a variety of spots in Europe) give her the space needed to really make an artistic statement. And while the music is still on the pop side of jazz, Tania Maria lets loose her considerable vocal and playing talents, and, more importantly, turns loose her artistic instinct.

And so songs that might have been clipped or edited down to a palatable level in the studio are left to evolve slowly into more complete ideas. The songs average a little more than seven minutes per, and Tania Marie takes advantage of that freedom.

A much better showcase of her skill. As often happens with jazz, the live recordings are more vibrant than studio sessions. That certainly is the case here.

I first met Tom Brignall outside a club in Grand Rapids. Well, actually, that's the only time I actually spoke to him face-to-face. He gave me a tape of his then-band, Konnichi Wah (I have missed the performance by a few minutes), and I was knocked out by the music and particularly by the sound.

That band died days after I got the tape, but I've heard bits and snippets of his new project, Naked Lunch (demo and a couple tracks on compilations), and I've remained impressed. Okay, so he goes by the moniker Mxyzptlk these days, but the music is the same sample-heavy monster guitar industrial stuff that has always amazed me.

There are gothic elements (Naked Lunch is very cold wave in that respect), but the core at each of the songs is the heavy riffage. The songs don't rely so much on samples as before (an improvement), though at times I do detect the impulse to do too much, rather than leave the sound a bit more sparse. I'm a big proponent of "don't disturb the groove", and that does happen too much for my taste.

But, as usual, I'm bitching at very little. This is a most impressive disc. Brignall knows how to craft fine music, and even more importantly, he knows how to put it together in the studio. My high expectations have been met.

Four studio tracks, a couple live shots and an interview. The music is basic Brit punk, the sort of thing that led to NWOBHM.

Indeed, the stuff is much more reminiscent of early Iron Maiden or Def Leppard than the sort of thing that us folks in the States think of punk these days. A bit of oi, but a lot of attitude and serious guitars.

Too bad it isn't more interesting. Oneway System can deliver nice riffs, but the songs are simply two-dimensional. Kinda amusing, but nothing to get excited about. The live tracks are better than the studio ones, but the sound is not good. As for the interview, well, it has a few Spinal Tap moments, but that seems kinda sad.

All said, middle of the pack.

Described as "contemporary" Middle Eastern music, I must admit that this is much more accessible than some of the more "authentic" recordings I've heard. Sharkiat does stick to acoustic (with the exception instruments, though, and so doesn't completely cheese out.

I'm sure purists wouldn't be terribly happy with the way Sharkiat incorporates western musical thought into its music (there is an interesting fusion of jazz ideas with the more traditional influences), but I think it works pretty well. After all, Arabic music and jazz both have roots in northern Africa.

The players sound like they are enjoying themselves immensely, playing their hybrid music. And I found myself joining in that attitude. This is fairly infectious stuff.

No matter the origins or even where this music falls under the genre umbrella, the playing and the enthusiasm can't be beat. Good fun.

Whenever Rodan alumni get together, the music cognoscenti start salivating. I heard about this disc well before the package arrived in my mailbox. Unfortunately, it seemed someone in the U.S. Postal Service also had been awaiting this release, and my package contained only a letter explaining to me how great this album is. Needless to say, I got on the phone that minute (even though it was a Saturday) and left a message requesting a re-send.

The good folks at Touch and Go were generous enough to help me out. And so I am listening. Originally conceived as background music for the NPR series "This American Life" (hosted by my favorite NPR dude, Ira Glass), this project took on a life of its own, leading to this album and even a tour. I don't think Jason and Jeff will permanently leave their gigs with Rachels and June of '44, but this music is certainly good enough to give a person thoughts.

The songs shift easily from strident tones to almost hypnotic interludes, not unlike any of the members past or present bands. The spell is certainly addictive. Once this popped into my discer, I didn't want to take it out. I'm not sure how this stuff works as background music ("This American Life" airs in York at 9 a.m. on Sundays, which is about four hours too early for me), but it's a great album.

And yes, the band was named after the book. And while I found that novel to be rather tedious, the band Shipping News is anything but. There's a reason people get excited about Rodan's progeny.

The first band to find its album released on the Hellcat imprint, the Slackers kick around some seriously old-school ska.

Like Desmond Dekker old school, ya know? This goes all the way back, complete with swingin' beats and rusty guitar sounds. From time to time various r&b and Latin elements work their way into the mix, which simply further instills the traditionalist moniker.

And in this case, I'm not complaining. Instead of slavishly imitating, the Slackers have utterly recreated the sounds of the original ska stars. These folks have done their research, and then taken that knowledge to take this music that necessary one step further.

A ska album the likes of which hasn't been heard in 30 years or more. So retro it's revolutionary. And utterly impossible to put down. A revelation.

That whole punk rawk thing is getting pretty cool these days. Last issue I reviewed the Magnolia Thunderfinger, and now comes Stella. An Ann Arbor band who is quite obviously enamored with the MC5, Iggy and Love. I know, those folks don't always like to stand together, but fuckit. I mean, that's where the music leads.

And Stella just keeps slogging through thick chords and chunky beats. Kinda like Mule with a more commercial sheen and a knack for hooks. A throbbing mass of goo, the sort of thing I slurp up greedily.

I'll admit: this stuff is like chocolate to me. Can't get enough. Sends my endorphins flying. The best part about Stella is that these guys bash more than pop. The emphasis is on pulverization and propagation of fear.

Be very afraid, but not so much that you miss this disc. Stunning power, delivered in the most delectable package imaginable. I can't get enough. Feed me more.

Yet another cool band from Kansas City. Makes me wonder why I moved away in the first place.

Imagine if the Replacements played an emo style of dirty punk. That pretty much describes this. The songs are enthusiastic and utterly messy, with vocals that couldn't possibly get hoarser.

The guys are fans of wordplay (the song titles are "The Moron the Merrier" and "There's a Roof in the Leak"), though the lyrics are pretty much straightforward angst.

I can only imagine what Uncrush sounds like live. Must be one hell of a show.

I sure like the tendency toward noise, but Uni-V gets a little more conscious of song construction once the vocals come in, and so drifts a bit back toward the pack.

Still, the guys have a knack for unusual rhythm styles, and when they use the messy guitar sound, the stuff really cooks. Like I said, though, the tunes get much more traditional when it's singing time.

There are some definite Kepone-esque moments (always a good thing), and both songs end very well, combining all of the ideas into a cool mishmash of styles and sounds.

There's something here. I can feel the heat coming on.

Some old (like 1971 old), some new. All stuff that Cleopatra has license to, and so one way to take this set is as a sampler platter of the rather large space music catalog held by the label.

That wouldn't tell the whole tale, though. Yeah, there are ancient tracks from Hawkwind, Chrome and Guru Guru, but also new stuff from Pressurehed and the Cosmic Couriers (featuring Dieter Moebius and Jurgen Engler). The collection is rather diverse, showing off all sorts of takes on the whole "space rock" concept, and the large time frame also helps to illustrate the long-lasting appeal of this largely overlooked sound.

Part of that diversity can also be applied to the quality of the songs, though most are quite good. Sure, this may be just another marketing ploy, but it's not a bad space mix tape, if you're so inclined.

While the legend of Operation Ivy has grown exponentially since the ascension of Rancid, there were plenty of us around in the late 80s who quite liked this band that predated the whole skacore movement.

Bands like Reel Big Fish, the Blue Meanies, the Hippos and the Cherry Poppin' Daddies tear through the OpIvy repertoire. Much of the songs sound like they were recorded in pretty spartan settings, but that only makes them sound more authentic.

Add to that some seriously warped renditions of the canon, and you get a tribute that seems to have gotten the point right: Have fun all the time. No need to be overly serious. I mean, that wouldn't make any sense at all.

Brian Eno is one of those people who would seem, on the surface, to be a good subject for a tribute album. His work, while extremely influential, hasn't exactly sold in large quantities.

And there's a reason for that, and that also happens to be reason why a tribute is not such a good idea. Brian Eno's music is simply a direct extension of himself. Most musical artists make this claim, but Eno's music, when out of his hands, loses much of its spark. And that's where this just doesn't work.

I could go on, using the old saw about how electronic artists are the last folks you want interpreting Eno (country artists doing Eno; now, that would at least be original), but the simple fact is that his output isn't something that is easily picked up by anyone else. And despite some fine work by Brand X and Astralasia, most of these renditions are either so straight and faithful as to bore or are simply mangled attempts at replication.

Tributes get dull fast, this one faster than many.

I think it's fair to say that the Vibrators best days lie 20 years ago. The first album was pretty damned good (which is why it can still be found without too much effort). The work tailed off after that.

This disc doesn't contain any of the recordings the band made while signed to CBS. Instead, many songs were re-recorded in 1991, with the rest of the tracks consisting of demo versions or live shots recorded back in 1977.

The re-recorded renditions are uniformly uninspired, and often insipid. The demos are pretty decent, and the quality is much better than you might expect. The live tracks have the most energy, and are also the worst sounding of the bunch. The sound was horrible, but at least they impart a bit of a hint as to why the Vibrators should have a "Best of" album to begin with.

Search out Pure Mania. You can get it on CD. Don't mess with this.

Fontana released this album in the U.K. a couple years back, mainly because folks over there have a clue as to who Scott Walker is.

He was Scott Engel before becoming a member of the Walker Brothers (none of the members were brothers or named Walker), a group which had some monster pop hits in England (a couple of which made the U.S. top 20). After that group splintered, he put out four albums before the 60s ended, and then kinda disappeared.

He released Climate of Hunter in 1984, which, according to the press info, one reviewer called "the most terminal songs ever written" (I like that, myself). Now this effort, which cannot be placed in any neat category or described as any one "type" of music. But I might as well try.

Imagine if Einsturzende Neubauten were to use A Saucerful of Secrets as a starting point, with the Aphex Twin as the ending point. Drop in truly weird lyrics and an even stranger voice (an almost toneless baritone, kinda like what Bill Ward sounds like after he's modulated his voice severely), and you might begin to understand. But I don't think so. I read all of the press and did a lot of research before putting on the disc (I had a hint it would challenge me), and I still wasn't prepared for what came next.

And I'm still shattered. The images and sensory perception of pain, agony and loss won't be leaving me any time soon. This is profound stuff, haunting as it pierces your mind. There is no way to prepare the uninitiated. You simply must endure the experience for yourself. And keep all sharp objects well-hidden.