Hardcore with lots of noise pop trimmings. Kinda like Guilt, though in a much more uptempo way. The songs tend to move forward in a herky-jerky fashion, though always toward a crashing climax.

The band has a good feeling for incorporating all sorts of ideas into each song, still managing to keep the sound sane. The result is something like controlled chaos, with no song sounding much at all like the other (except that all four are best enjoyed with the volume way up high.

Really infectious, once the initial rocky surface has been pried away. It takes real talent to even conceive of music like this, much less actually execute so well.

Wholly convincing. A statement of purpose, with intent to injure. Autumn holds nothing back, and the results are great.

The liners say these songs came about from two days of improvisations. I'm sure some bits were hashed out a bit before the final recording (certainly the lyrics), but the spirit of exploration is present throughout.

Four rather short songs fused with two 10 minute sonic explorations (one, the first track, very contemplative, the second a basher like the rest). Noisy and oh-so-fun.

These guys have little respect for traditional ideas of composition and construction, particularly when they stretch the songs out. The short songs are cool, but perhaps not quite as evocative as they might have been with a little more air. And while the long songs are quite expressive, the band does seem to get lost from time to time.

Quibbles, really. The ambition is huge, and the result is reasonably close to that high mark. A joy to behold.

Power pop with a little punk throb (the band's name is just about perfect, really) that plows through plenty of cliches (musical, mostly) and still manages to impress.

Goofy as all get out, and rather messy. That works pretty well in the band's favor, since the music really isn't going to impress many folks. What does leave an impression is the joy in the playing. These guys are having a hell of a lot of fun.

So it's not too hard to get in the spirit and bounce along. A transient pleasure, certainly, but it's bands like Bouncing Balls that help remind folks like me just why people get in a band: to tap into an adrenaline line and fly until the energy gives out.

A garage band that embodies all the good things in that name. Greatness isn't in the cards, but who cares as long as there's smiles all around?

Acoustic-based roots rock, with a bit of that Jimmy Buffet feel. The use of "Roland" for much of the percussion probably contributes to that. Of course, since Ron Bowman and his buds live in Florida, such a connection makes sense. And it works for them pretty well.

I really like the laid-back style of the songs, which provides a nice stage for the lyrics. And that's where some problems creep in. Bowman has a nice touch for semi-cheesy lines, but occasionally he comes up with a few too many cliches in a row, and the songs can sound a little hackneyed.

Still, it's hard to get too hacked at a band that records a song called "I Love You More than I Love My Truck". Nothing spectacular, just fairly loopy, yet sincere, love songs. Nothing wrong with that.

Dan Lilker and his buds in Brutal Truth have always managed to turn any doubters on their heads. It has been impossible to lump the band in with a good number of run-of-the-mill grindcore acts (most of which aren't recording anymore) due to some seriously good playing and songwriting.

This album has Brutal Truth turning back the clock, focusing on sonic violence instead of creative songsmithing. The production by Billy Anderson is quite good, providing a cover of fog but still allowing the general ideas to float through. This is music for a black evening.

There are bits here that show the band's unique touch: a surprisingly faithful cover of Sun Ra's "It's After the End of the World", the noise-ambient soundscape of the first half of "Blue World", the four minutes and twenty seconds of silence in "4:20" and the truly twisted loop that creates the nearly 22-minute "Prey".

But after 22 tracks, I'm afraid I don't hear enough of the musical creativity I've always associated with Brutal Truth. This is a decent grindcore album, but one that plenty of bands could have made. Perhaps the first time that can be said about a Brutal Truth album.

More of the hippie techno blues from this Texas guitarist. The Stevie Ray Vaughn comparisons have followed him forever, and that makes sense. Duarte does share one important trait with Vaughn: Both are at their best interpreting other people's tunes. The original stuff falls flat (sometimes horribly so), but his reinvention of fairly well-known pieces are generally quite good.

Particularly stunning is a wild re-invention of "The Thrill Is Gone", one of two tracks produced by Gordie Johnson (David Z did the rest). Duarte's vocals aren't particularly stirring, but his guitar work soars above the electronic stew underneath. That one bit is probably worth the price of the album, though you've got to get through a lot of rather middling (if not downright mind-numbing) songs as well.

Duarte can play, and he sings well enough. But he doesn't seem to know how to write songs that take advantage of his prodigious talent, and it gets kinda maddening to hear his beautiful guitar playing sunk inside some really awful songs.

I've never been a big fan of the Texas white boy blues (at least anything in the past 15 years or so), and this album doesn't come close to changing my mind. Duarte needs to find someone who can feed him songs that make his guitar sing. And then watch out.

Loopy pop played over a completely electronic percussion section. Now, this is ultra lo-tech stuff, so it almost sounds, um, rustic or something. The songs themselves resemble reconstructed Brit-pop, so you can imagine the structural dichotomies involved.

The stuff is inelegantly arranged, adding to the off-kilter feeling. But by playing such strong themes against each other, Fabric achieves some seriously impressive results. This is definitely thinking music, though you can hum along if you want. I doubt the band would mind.

The concept is somewhat involved, but by using simple lines, Fabric makes the near-impossible sound breathlessly easy. Sure, it's rather disconcerting. That's the point.

And past making good music, I can't even fathom a guess as to what Fabric is going for here. But I don't care. I'll simply bathe in the discord.

The a-side is a rather Buzzcocks-y track from the new album (reviewed below). The b-sides are covers of Chuck Berry ("Trick or Treat") and Daniel Johnston ("Deviltown") songs.

The Groovie Ghoulies have never really claimed to be much more than a straight ahead punk pop band, and that's what you get here. Just the basics.

The cover of "Deviltown" is rather cool, though, and the whole set is charming, if nothing else. It's exactly what I expected.

Goofy horror love songs that recycle just about every punk pop cliche in the book. Yes, another opus from the Groovie Ghoulies.

And yet, like the Ramones, it's hard to get too hacked when a familiar chord change comes along for the umpteenth time. The songs are pretty amusing, and occasionally the music is rather inspired (the first track, "Tunnel of Love" is absolutely sparkling).

Lightweight, but lovably so. There's plenty of amusement to go around. Kinda like candy corn, if you like that sorta thing. Once you start scarfing, it's hard to stop.

Led by former Sick of It All roadie Toby Morse, H2O thrashes through a set of tuneful hardcore that is reminiscent of, well Morse's former employers.

Less metallic of course (it's amazing how many hardcore bands pick up that extra guitar overdub when they get money for the studio), and with a bit more emphasis on melody, H2O bows to no one when it comes to attitude.

And when the pop feel really comes out, like on "I See It in Us", H2O cops a Down by Law feel (when Morse sings, he really sounds a lot like Dave Smalley). Personally, I think this is a good thing.

Enough power to satisfy the adrenaline junkies, and enough tunesmithing to make a few popheads turn theirs. H2O isn't great yet, but this album has plenty of extra-fine moments. If the growth process continues, well, it could be very exciting.

More from the increasingly impressive Secretly Canadian list. Each band gets five songs, and the liners and packaging are individually created (man, I just couldn't get it to scan in right, but trust me, it looks very cool). Top notch music and way-cool coverings. Quality all the way.

Intro to Airlift plays atonal surf music, or perhaps really peppy and light emo. I like the first description myself, and this somewhat unorthodox approach to perky guitar pop is very attractive to my ears. Each of the five songs develops in a unique way, which further shows off the extensive musical knowledge of the band.

More June Panic, which means five songs which don't seem to have anything to do with each other. Once again, the band focuses on putting plenty of finishing touches rather than on actual songwriting, but that technique still works. The songs are a wild melange of styles romping through the pop universe, and they compliment the creativity of Intro to Airlift very well.

These bands don't sound much like each other at all, but the desire to explore united them and the disc. A wonderful set.

This is the more recent release (I reviewed a disc last time out). And it doesn't sparkle like the earlier material. The songs are generally slower, not showing the variety of influences that were in evidence earlier.

And by getting "more serious" or whatever, Jozlin Bones has taken away the significant portion of the fun factor that I liked. The songs sound much more contrived, as if writing them was almost a chore. And maybe that's a hint: Take a little more time.

A real disappointment. I quite liked the earlier stuff, but this just doesn't match up at all. If the band could only tap into that fun vein again, all the excesses wouldn't weigh the sound down nearly as much. This tape is just way too light to be heavy in a good way, if you know what I mean.

A band that pops out the NYC metalcore sound. What a concept. And I'm serious when I say that, because I haven't heard it done much.

Perhaps because the whole idea seems like an oxymoron. It's not, but to accomplish the task well it takes some serious work. Maximum Penalty doesn't make it work all the time, but enough to catch my ear.

Yeah, the sound is something like SOIA meets Green Day, with the best and worst of both sounds everpresent. The tendency to crank out a hooky anthem is a bit aggravating, but the rhythm work within a pop context is really stunning.

And there's 15 songs here for you to really get into this sound. Yeah, it's a bit weird, but in the end Maximum Penalty makes everything worthwhile. Fun and thoughtful music. Definitely worth the effort.

Megadeth's problem has always been timing. When the band was poised for massive success, with a real groundswell created from Killing Is My Business... and Business Is Good and Peace Sells... But Who's Buying?, it released the shlocky So Far, So Good... So What?. A self-prophesizing title if I ever saw one.

And while Metallica (you all know the ties there, I assume) has evolved into a turgid self-parody, Megadeth has continued to evolve and, more importantly, record. I'm sure the simple economics of rock stardom has something to do with it, but the simple fact is that Megadeth has made the right choice.

And so songs like the very alterna-poppy "Almost Honest" don't sound out of place with the rest of the album, which tried very hard to encompass everywhere metal has gone in the last 20 years, while also keeping an eye on the future.

And so, now that it has once again established itself as a band in the foreground of the rock pantheon, Megadeth finally releases the album that should convince folks it deserves to be where it is. The range of the songs is impressive, and even if Mustaine's lyrics are pretty silly more often than not, the music is mature, assured and confident. As it should be.

I've got to admit complete surprise here. I'm even a little impressed. Something I certainly didn't anticipate when I tossed this puppy in the discer. That'll do.

About fuckin' time, really. I've seen Pegboy twice since the last album, and I was beginning to wonder just what the hell was going on. Starting to sweat a serious jones for some new monster thick Chicago punk.

And that single with Kepone? Excellent (The awe-inspiring "Dangermare" is included here), but not nearly enough. And so I prepare myself for greatness, relegating all abandon to some black pit in the back of my mind.

It's Pegboy, and that's all I wanted to hear. Three chord monte all the way, complete with Larry's trademark howl. Yeah, there's no music progression or anything, but who the fuck wants Pegboy to change, anyway? This is awesome adrenaline-thrashing music that only gets better when you crank it past the limits of your speakers.

So I'm a completely unobjective fan. If you gotta problem with that, go talk to someone who loved the new U2 album. Get outta my face before I shove your nose into your brain.

I'm not fucking around here.

A recording of Perry's first U.S. shows in 17 years, this captures the true legend a bit past his prime (at least vocally) but still in good form.

Perry's contributions to music are far too many to mention, but they extend far beyond reggae. And while his voice may be somewhat shaky and out of tune, his mind is still solid, and he knows how to lead his band in extended reggae explorations.

The sound is pristine, which is a bit disconcerting, really (I wonder about "clean-up" overdubs when stuff sounds this good), but Perry in full flow is still impressive enough to overcome any doubts.

I'd suggest you go back into the catalog to really discover why Perry is so revered, but this set will probably make a few fans happy. And there's nothing wrong with that.

The Pietasters utilize the famous ska backbeat and plenty of other rhythmic and melodic ideas to create a sound that sounds like an amped up version of the classic Studio One sound. Brett Gurewitz produced, and so the sound simply flies out of the speakers in full effect. Almost overwhelming, really.

Solid songwriting, if a bit simplistic, but the playing is so exuberant there's no way to really complain. While really thick, the sound doesn't quite pound its way into skacore, staying (barely) on the faithful side of the street.

The horns are at full wail much of the time, and the bad simply swings its way through the disc. This is the sort of ska that toda This thing could be a monster. It's good enough, and it's got the trends on its side.

I guess this prog hardcore thing is really beginning to take off. Himsa utilizes plenty of different sounds (and a technically precise, if blunt, attack) to fashion its base of pain and suffering.

Oh, yeah, this is heavy fare. Himsa flails away at a number of demons, rendering them quickly into dust under the sonic attack. An attack whose every step carries new surprises.

A welcome sound, to be sure. Himsa reminds me a lot of Glazed Baby, though with a bit more precision and a good bit more variety. The heaviness is a constant though. It's just about impossible to escape the oppression.

Not that I want to, mind you. I'm happy wallowing in the mire with the rest of the mere mortals Himsa routinely tramples underfoot. My ears haven't taken a pounding like this in a while. They'd like some more.

This disc presents the English and Japanese versions of "Explosion" (both of which are on the recent album Brand New Knife). There's also four live versions of tracks found on that album.

"Explosion!" is a nice enough pop song, though not one I would have chosen for a single. The sound on the live tracks is a bit muddled, but it's not like Shonen Knife music is terribly complicated. After a rambling two-minute introduction to the first live track, the band works through the songs with a workmanlike effort lacking much flair.

A disc like this really points out Shonen Knife's deficiencies: very basic songwriting and not terribly accomplished musicianship. The live tracks sound like the band is working so hard just to play the music that all the fun is leached out by the effort. A bummer.

Kurt Bloch produced this short set of six tunes (and, I would guess, the astonishingly strange bonus track, which runs two minutes longer than the rest of the songs combined), and his rough 'n' ready style at the board warps the Smugglers to a place I've never heard them before.

The guitars are almost completely full of distortion, and the songs themselves are more enervated than I could have dreamed. The Smugglers still focus on goofy lyrics and retro mise en scene, but this set really moves the band into the future.

Lots of fun, and cool music to boot. I still have no idea what the hell that extra track is all about (I admit I couldn't get all the way through it), but I suppose that will simply add to the Smugglers' mystique.

Some guys who never got over Ten. Add in some obliquely religious lyrics (a little more overt than King's X, whose original producer Sam Taylor is behind the boards here), and you get a weird post-grunge version of Christian contemporary.

Now, I like Ten better than anything Pearl Jam has done since (with the exception of the Neil Young dalliance), but there's no reason to utterly replicate it. And that's what Third Day has done. There is some outright riff theft, and the general feel of the album has certainly been lifted.

I know, lots of bands have done this before, but that doesn't make this right. The playing is good, and the songs are at least interesting, but I can't shake this feeling of deja vu. Over and over again. And again.

Worst of all, this continues the general trend of contemporary religious music, which seems to be much more worried about getting a message across than innovating musically. Remember when religious music influenced popular culture? It wasn't that long ago. Would that those days might return.

When I last heard Today Is the Day, I was struck by the utter disregard for any form of undue influence, be it societal norms or merely song structure. This puppy is much more technologically advanced than the last album I reviewed, but the absolute hatred for instituted order continues.

And the folks have obviously found lots of new toys with which to spread the message of death and decay. Like Neurosis before them, the band moved to Relapse and has now released an album that is very good, but perhaps a bit too impersonal. There's a band hiding somewhere behind all the studio trickery, and I'd rather hear more of that.

Still, I've got to acknowledge the sheer power and grace of this disc. It's a rambling mess that is a bit too processed, but few bands would dare to consider traveling this way. I'll take the risk-takers every time.

Like the most recent Neurosis album, this disc gets point deducted because of my high expectations. It's still an amazing exploration of sound and ideas, no matter if I'm not quite satisfied. Definitely worth a listen.

Nicely chunky and somewhat anthemic punk stuff. Reminds me more than a little of Ruth Ruth or Jawbox (in all the nice ways). It's a bit pretentious (as this stuff has to be), but Uranium 9 Volt proves it is worth the intellectual arrogance.

A punk band that actually does a little musical exploration along the way as well. This isn't everyday stuff by any stretch of the imagination. Enough melody to keep the head bobbing and enough power to feed the machine.

And it's all in proportion. These six songs are highly impressive. Uranium 9 Volt mixes its sounds up with aplomb, and every tune is a winner. Punk music that sound almost grown up (again, in a good way).

A nice, fresh surprise. All hail.