Punk pop from the Chapel Hill area, and, sure, you can hear a Superchunk influence. But more than that, I hear a mid-80s kinda vibe, like, say, Naked Raygun. Where Superchunk has the tendency to clamp down on the proceedings when the band wants to get a little introspective, Aftertax simple tightens up the gears and roars ahead at a faster pace.

Tight riffs and wonderfully discordant harmonies. Intentional sloppiness? I dunno, but it works. The songs keep bashing their way out of my stereo, impressing more with each foray.

Way back in high school, I learned that many great poets (say, Shakespeare) liked the constraints of formal poetry because you didn't have to worry structure, just what you wanted to say. In the same way, Aftertax follows pop form perfectly, but it's what's contained within that's the real revelation. The only innovation here is the inspiration revealed. That's enough for me.

Talk about a grabber out of the gate. I've come to expect fairly good things from Chapel Hill bands (particularly the lesser-known ones), and Aftertax exceeds my anticipation. An impressive and articulate set.

Rather competently executed grungy stuff (though with a very clean lead guitar sound). While not updating the style much, C.O. Jones certainly has a handle on this sound.

The songwriting fits the grooves, and the playing is very good. The production left a solid, but not overwhelming sound. All pluses, in my book.

But, see, I've heard this before. No, the band isn't ripping anyone off, but they're sticking to the main avenues. Considering that these guys are all still teenagers, there's plenty of time to explore more unusual musical styles.

C.O. Jones won't make a mark playing precisely this sort of music, but the band is definitely worth keeping an eye on. Way too much talent to ignore.

I could call this fusion, but it's really prog rock with a sax. Now, I know some folks would find those to be the same thing, but I don't. There isn't a whole lotta jazz here (not a problem at all), but some rather accomplished technical rock.

And in the finest prog tradition, at times the execution of the music seems to take precedence over expressive playing. The songs do get a bit chilly.

The human element takes flight every now and again. It's like a soul has left the building. Sure, there are intriguing melodies being performed with precision, but I don't hear any passion.

And passion is always required, even for the most mellow and sensitive music. Common Ground's workmanlike approach fulfills all the technical requirements, but falls a bit short of the artistic ones.

At its best, Consolidated has cranked out some amazing political musical tirades. At its worst, the band has lost its musical moorings and degenerated into incoherent rants. Enough of the latter found the band on the street (thus the title of the album, I believe), and now while the tide has receded, Consolidated is back.

True to form, the artist reply coupon offers info on joining activist organizations in the listeners home community. No one ever accused Consolidated of hypocrisy. But such a devotion to causes can be a bit overwhelming.

But on this disc, the excesses are reined in. Now, that also by necessity rules out any great statement, but Consolidated cranks out a sizable load of astute politically-aware pieces without skimping on the music. If you're unfamiliar, imagine Living Colour with a drum machine and a white singer. And lots of samples. Nothing revolutionary, but when your options are limited, sometimes it's necessary to redecorate the interior or your shell.

I would like to hear a few more chances being taken on the musical front. There are some nice references (The "Get Up Stand Up" bass line pops up in "Red Flags and Bags"), but much of this album is a bit too subtle. A bit more of the attack dog would be nice to hear.

There's an interesting tale in the liners about how Hawkins's final studio album came to be recorded for Geffen Records, but the real story here is Hawkins's wonderful voice.

He brings a light, bluesy rasp to pop songs that would have fit in perfectly with the early days of rock and roll (and some of his selections are indeed from that time).
The first 16 tracks of this disc are from a show at McCabe's in Santa Monica, near his home. Just Hawkins and his guitar, an addictive combo. A lot of the songs are from The Next Hundred Years, his Geffen album (the performances on this disc are taken from that tour, which turned out to be his last).

Years of performing in Venice Beach honed his craft, sharpening his storytelling skill to a mesmerizing level. Each song helps tell another chapter of his life, which makes this album a fitting memorial. Very few performers can shine with just a voice and guitar, but Hawkins takes the spare surroundings and creates an entire universe. A wonderfully moving set.

Another 80s outfit back to haunt my aging adolescence. I was never very familiar with Heaven 17, though I did hear them a few times on the old "Rock over London" show. And this disc sounds just like I remember.

Well, the drum machines are more precise, but the vocal stylings are dead up new wave. A lot like old OMD, if that helps you. Wow. I would have loved this stuff 15 years ago.

And a lot of Brits did. Heaven 17 was monstrously huge for a moment, and then nothing. Until this. It's perfect timing, of course, though as Kiss found out, everyone wanted the old records and ignored the new ones. I'm not sure what the market for new new wave is, but ask folks like the reformed Echo and the Bunnymen and I think you'll get a rather negative answer.

This is complete retro. There's been little evolution in songwriting or lyrical ideas. But if you want to hear some cool 80s stuff that rings unfamiliar in your ears (new nostalgia, if you will), perhaps this will suffice.

An ex-Tampa Bay band (that I never saw when I lived in the area, so I'm not sure why I'm even bringing it up), Home's first album was a huge mess of ambitious creativity. The folks threw everything into the pot, and well, some of it was gristle.

Still, I liked the way the band absolutely refused to follow any traditional notions of structure or style. Home is unlike any other band I've heard, and for that, they deserve credit. The playing on this disc is meticulous and exact, and recording is messy. Lots of echo and reverb disguise the tight playing, but the end effect is something of a glorious party a few beers down the line.

Despite ignoring accepted patterns, Home did pay much more attention to songwriting on this disc. That's where the excellent playing comes in to play. While the aftereffects induce sonic chaos, the underlying structure is sound. These songs will hold.

This album comes much closer to fulfilling the potential I heard on Home's first album. There is true greatness here. And I don't say that very often.

Somewhat atonal howling laid over restrained rock. With a nice dollop of humor (the band's name gives a bit of a hint that way). Simple, direct and attractive.

Nothing particularly exciting, just solid stuff. Hoover's G-String never really kicks out the jams, but there's enough energy to light up the sound. The musical melodies are good and hooky, though the vocals tend to miss their mark from time to time.

Which isn't a problem. This stuff goes down easy, if you get my drift. Just yer basic bar band ripping off a few tunes you wouldn't mind hearing again someday.

Hard to argue with a proposition like that.

Moody, contemplative pop stuff that has one foot in the DBs and another in the Smiths. The lighter side of each, I might add.

But a lighter touch on the volume simply focuses the spotlight on the songwriting of Stephan Bayley and Holt Evans. Bayley did the bulk of the composing, but both men write in complimentary styles. Earnest, yearning songs, always looking just past the horizon.

It's not everyone who writes a song about Barton Fink, and only the rare few can make a rational statement about that rather obtuse and intriguing movie. The Hungry Mind Review specializes in writing and performing songs that allow the listener's mind to enter new worlds, finding new ways of thinking.

The complete package. This is a wonderful album, the first album I've heard this year that has "Top 10 of 1998" written all over it (even if it did come out last year; self-released discs are kinda nebulous that way). Like last year's Mitchell Rasor album, J'Abandonne speaks quietly, but kills all the same.

Following up on Jetset's success with Firewater, Duane Denison and Jim Kimball got their mates in the Jesus Lizard to pop for a EP released by that label. Whether this is an indication of a new permanent home for the band, or yet another one-off I don't know (I didn't ask, to be honest). But anything new from this band is always worth checking out.

Over the years the band has cleaned up its songwriting and playing. I assume this has something to do with the inevitable increasing professionalism concept, at least applied to the studio. The live shows are as unrestrained and incomprehensible as ever. Good to know that some things never change.

The five tracks on this album were produced by Andy Gill, John Cale and Jim O'Rourke. My copy doesn't say who did what, but it's not impossible to guess. For the most part, the songs on this EP are very precisely played and produced, with some seriously quiet spots. A natural evolution, surely, but the sparse feel is still somewhat surprising.

I would put a big wad of cash on the fact that Jim O'Rourke produced the final track, "Needles for Teeth". There's a lot of lo-fi noodling going on, all brought together by some tight rhythm work. The perfect finale for this set. Who knows where the Jesus Lizard will be tomorrow, but this is a pretty good spot for today.

Part of the evolving collective of bands that probably can find roots in Louisville (Slint in particular), but is so far-flung at this point the main point of reference is how the folks share their talents.

This, however, is one of the primary bands (like Shipping News is one of the side projects) of this amorphous group of musical geniuses. And, well, genius is a tough thing to quantify, but if you give this or any albums by the Rachels, Diagonah, etc., a close listen, you'd have to agree.

What is it? Well, whatever the folks decide to do. The songs wretch and heave from riff to riff, always in a coherent fashion, but not always in the most accessible way. Music that demands attention, RIGHT NOW GODDAMNIT!!

The folks at Quarterstick (Touch and Go, whatever) are really excited about this thing. They don't hype excessively, and in this case the agitation is most certainly dead-on. This is stunning musicianship, songwriting and presentation. Yeah, it generally fits into the whole noise pop movement, but June of 44 is so far past this temporal reality I can't even begin to describe what it feels like to actually experience this music.

Like everything on DGM, the package is completely gorgeous. From the artwork to the comprehensive liner notes, these folks know how to gussy up a concert recording from 1973.

Amsterdam, on November 23, 1973, to be specific. The recording is amazing, managing to convey both the excitement of improvisation while still presenting the music in a rich, complete fashion.

There are three free improvisations, and they provide the most intriguing moments. Sitting through such things can be difficult in a live setting, but it's much easier to appreciate on something like this. The improvisations showcase the impeccable musical talents that have always inhabited King Crimson, and they drive this set.

The "enhanced" part of the CD is basically a DGM catalog. A nice way to present such things, but it doesn't really enhance the music. Excessive adornment, however, has never been the King Crimson game, so I'm not gonna worry about it.

You've probably got an image of flamenco music like mine: Castanets and stomping, a Spanish version of the Mexican Hat Dance, perhaps (I'm not even going to worry about that screwed-up musical etymology). Well, Los Activos play flamenco, but it definitely not what I was expecting.

The emphasis is on rhythm, and the rhythms are often recognizable. The melodies which float above these beats are as often as not from Arab culture (which shouldn't be surprising considering the nation's history), and they are performed with an unrestrained passion that is arresting, to say the least.

Rhythm is the main game here, and that is what shines. The beats are pounded out on whatever medium is at hand (or foot): doors, floors, a wide array of percussion and more. When the percussive orchestration gets crazy, Los Activos represent dancing music at its finest.

And there's so much more. I've always had an image of flamenco that is rather stifling; this disc turns that around. Los Activos insist on remaking conventions, and that makes all the difference.

A not-unfamiliar mix of the ambient, electro-pop and techno, Robert Miles is an Italian DJ who achieved notoriety for his reaction against a PMRC-like group in his home nation. The song, "Children", was a big European hit and even made a few waves over here.

23am is at its best when the music is left to its own devices. Most of the vocals are ethereal chant-like bits anyway, used more as instruments. But when a real song breaks out, well, that's where Miles's music reverts to a base club level. It's not bad at all, but not nearly as satisfying as the more complex skill he shoes elsewhere.

Fans of the Orb might well say "They did this years ago". Those folks would be right. But very few acts (other than that collective of talent) have been able to so succinctly fuse a wide range of electronic forms and still retain a sense of personal vision. Miles does that almost effortlessly, it seems.

Perhaps this isn't as groundbreaking as the press seems to think, but Miles has a touch and feel for this music that I haven't heard in a quite a while. A nice take on the moodier side of the electronic spectrum.

Three songs, all acoustic in instrumentation and yet showing a definite feel for the electronic ambient nonetheless. Mother of Moth is mostly one person (who has asked not to be named, a request I'm happy to heed) who has assembled acoustic guitar and a wide range of percussion into dronelike song structures.

It's strange, but I get a definite Led Zeppelin feel from the guitar riffs. Combined with the unusual structure, this simply adds to the intriguing sound. Something to get lost inside.

Quite well produced and assembled, this is a seamless presentation of some innovative music. A quality set all the way around.

It's been 17 years since he blazed across the common consciousness with "Cars". Most folks haven't kept up with Numan much since. And yet, he's continued to help shape the sound of electronic music through a number of progressions.

On this disc, Numan's robotic voice gives a gothic edge to his fully orchestrated electronic industrial sound. Yeah, it's easy to hear elements of the early 80s new wave sounds mixing it up with the guitar-heavy sound of German engineering. With nods to New Order and Bauhaus as well.

An engaging set. Numan doesn't really break ground, but he does mix a number of electronic music movements in his personal blender, finally arriving at a sound that is undeniably his. Sterile? Overwrought? Sure. But at his best Numan has been able to use technology to further a unique vision of pop music, engaging and addictive. Exile goes down easy.

Numan staked his claim to electronic music some 20 years ago, and he's still mining a solid lode. That he's been able to ride through all the changes is a testament to the breadth of vision. That he's been able to make good music for much of that time is even more impressive.

Some good ol' midwestern boys take on the emo thing, slogging away like no tomorrow. And like the Regrets, the basic structure of each song is built upon stridently strummed two and three-string chords. Oh yeah, eventually the tunes get to a crashing chorus, but the focus is on the rhythm, an unyielding foundation which supports everything on top.

Don't get me wrong; unlike a lot of emo bands, Pave the Rocket is into tearing the roof off its song. These puppies rock, like I haven't heard in a while. There's power in them thar tunes, I say.

A welcome mutation in the emo gene. I've heard noise pop laid over the stuff, and Pave the Rocket slaps on some pure power pop. The band will probably end up more pop than punk, and if these songs are any indication, that's a great place for it to be.

Not necessarily happy music, but this disc gives me farm fuzzies all over anyway. Highly technical stuff played with sheer abandon. A tough combination to master, but Pave the Rocket has proven it's up to the task. Well alright, then.

A meandering societal kaleidoscope, rock with an electronic base. Tons of samples used almost as much as vocals, with plenty of musical musings. Kinda like an extremely trippy Chemlab with even more reliance on assembled sonic bits and pieces.

What's truly impressive is the musical range exhibited. Secret Army can morph from hardcore industrial to something in the ambient realms to clubby techno stuff, all without sounding like much of a stretch. In fact, if there is a problem, it's that the band hasn't really defined itself very well at all.

But I take this disc as a journey of sonic exploration and everything that comes with such an excursion. The parts don't necessarily fit when placed right next to each other, but taken as whole the project is rather fulfilling.

Fun and substantial. Secret Army has assembled a disc full of attractive and complex electronic pieces. A mess at times, but a well-ordered one, in any case. Wowsers.

These guys are trying, that's for sure. The Snap Dragons take elements of prog, glam metal and grunge, with a little of that Maiden ideal tossed in to finish things up. This actually sounds a lot like a low budget version of the last Into Another album.

A lot of excess, basically. Adding to the problem is Ronnie Henry's voice, which isn't strong enough to carry the songs as recorded, and the producer didn't know how to punch it up enough to give it a decent sound. And despite drawing from an impressive array of influences, the Snap Dragons often resort to musical cliches in order to move their songs along.

Leaving some serious potential lying untapped right now. There are plenty of nice moments, but those spots get crushed by the bulk of the music, which can get rote and pedestrian in a hurry.

The Snap Dragons aren't where they want to get. My suggestion would be to break down the songs into parts that work, and build on that foundation. There is enough creativity in the band to make this stuff good, but it's gonna take some serious work. No one said being an artist was easy.

Thick, thick, thick in the bass. These grooves are slow, they are funky and they just might take your life. Hip-hop grooves reformulated and slowed down to near incomprehensible levels, and then mixed with some wacky religious and vampiric messages.

I'm not exactly sure how seriously to take what lyrical content that exists here. In any case, the focus here is on the killer grooves, the sorts of rhythms that infect your brain and warp your soul. Perhaps that's why Spectre goes by the name of The Ill Saint.

A typically engrossing Wordsound release. Spectre is at home with basic beats or complicated compositions, even when he lays on rap or club-style vocals over his "normal" distorted bass vocal musings. But no matter how the ideas are expressed, the bottom always drops out. A slow rumbling that is murder on the mind.

The Spectre ideal is fat, heavy bass grooves, period. What gets piled on top varies wildly, it's impossible to miss the real reason for this music. Take the trip, and enjoy the ride.

Um, just what it sez. Acts like Para Despues, Martin O., Bonehead, Seelenluft and Voight Kampff take on various James Bond theme songs. From the familiar basic tune to some of the better-known big-name artist themes. "A View to a Kill" and "Goldfinger" each get done twice, for reasons that aren't quite apparent to me.

The renditions are amusing enough, though they all follow the same layering technique, slowly adding one track after another until a comprehensive whole is achieved. I know, this is common in electronic circles, but at least one of the songs might have gone a different way, hunh?

At best a novelty collection. The songs are all rather well-done, but I'd rather hear these same acts working on some truly inspired music instead of stuff like the worst Duran Duran song in existence.

Oh, sorry, I let my personal feelings drip in again. Whatever. If you really like that old James Bond stuff and want to hear it reinterpreted in rather rote electronic fashion, well, here it is. Cheers.

For anyone who doubts that the current spate of electronic music has roots in the hip hop underground, this collection ought to set them straight. I mean, if the Chemical Brothers weren't totally influenced by the Bomb Squad, well, I don't what. It's just obvious, y'know? I mean, what the hell you think Tricky is all about, anyway?

Oh well, this is the New York side of things. And while the sound is often manipulated to the lo-fi side of things, the power is undeniable. And the straight-line progression from the early days of rap and even further back is so easy to hear, it's incredible. Much like the two-disc Shake the Nations set I reviewed a couple months ago, this disc is a great primer for understanding the evolution of what folks call electronic music.

And while you're learning a thing or two, my guess is you'll be enjoying the mordant creativity present in the digital grooves. The underground is always the best place to go to find innovation, and this album is a fine portal.

Like the Spectre album, everyone on this collection knows how to set a groove. The sort that resonates in the bones. This isn't your regular hip-hop, and it certainly ain't your average electronica. Somewhere in between, where the good stuff always lies.