Bill is Bill Greenberg, who plays guitar, sings and wrote all but one of the songs. A quirky roots-rock style, easygoing but not necessarily sunny. To complete the album title, the basic chord progressions are listed alongside the lyrics in the liners. Cute.

The songs themselves are rather a hit-and-miss affair. This is definitely Greenberg's vision, and the lack of collaborative friction is telling. There are a couple of extremely cliche-riddled tracks, and a couple of brilliant pieces as well.

Greenberg's hero is obviously Neil Young, patron saint of the less-than-gifted vocalist. Bill's Band occasionally packs an emotional wallop, but most of the time it lies somewhere in the middle, which is a place Young rarely resides.

All over the place, stylistically and qualitatively. Greenberg kicks out the occasional great tune, but too much of this album just doesn't rise out of mediocrity.

Somewhere between an EP and an LP (seven songs clocking in at a bit more than a half hour, though different versions of "Heavy Drugs" bookend the set), Blister Rust likewise can't quite figure out what sort of music it should play. I swear to God, this stuff sounds like the love child of Hanoi Rocks and Blind Melon. For the hell of it, there's even a nearly incomprehensible Beatles cover.

The songs themselves sound like they've been tossed off in a couple seconds, bad parodies of glam metal (with a weird hint of the whole Dead Again movement) given a tiny sound in the studio.

Difficult to sit still. I keep wanting to punch the discer and get on with the weekly carnage, but I've got to get through this bastard. Somehow. Don't know how.

I just have no way of connecting with this music. It's not so much that the playing is horrible (because it's not). I just can't understand why the band wants to play this way.

Another ride in the American Outback with Calexico. As heard through the ears of a European cinematographer. No Sergio Leone jokes, please. Though this music would be right at home if A Fistful of Dollars had any sense of irony whatsoever.

Joey Burns and John Convertino, collectively known as Calexico, found enough time off from their usual gigs (Barbara Manning, Victoria Williams, Giant Sand and others) to record this puppy late last year. The sound is much fuller than the first disc, but as the music was already rather wide-ranging, not much could be improved in that area.

A great ride. Goofy, yeah, but also breathtaking. The better facilities didn't spoil the boys, who have made a better sounding album that still manages to be as inventive as its predecessor.

Calexico is one of those projects that some people instinctively understand. The music has a way of worming into my head and then instructing certaiPezzgic and follow along. Lunatic notions become the norm, and my mind meanders and bounds like a pebble down a mountain stream. Pretty damned cool.

Perfect timing, really. Brit pop is as big in the U.S. as it's been since Duran Duran, and the Charlatans haven't put out a new album in a while. Why not a singles compilation?

Not a really a Greatest Hits, as the band hasn't seen much U.S. chart success. Oh, the kids at the colleges love them, but that sort of fame just isn't enough to justify full-scale touring over here.

Personally, I dismissed the band early on as another Manchester kinda thing, riding the fame of such trendoids as EMF, Jesus Jones and the Farm. Stupid motherfucker that I am, I didn't begin paying attention to the Charlatans until a couple years ago. This disc serves to point out even more that I've missed.

Good pop, in many shades. Like longstanding contemporaries Blur, the Charlatans have melded their sounds to fit the times, all the while maintaining a quality approach. Perhaps this disc will help give this band its due on this side of the divide.

The music relies on percussion, bass and fiddle (with the odd horn or guitar), with tight vocal work from a number of vocalists. The songs come from Hungary, Turkey, Bulgaria and elsewhere. Sung in the original language, whatever that might be. There are American folks songs, some original pieces and even a Residents cover. Perhaps you understand now.

Maybe not. The only band I can think of that comes even close to the musical polymathy of Charming Hostess is Japonize Elephants, but the Elephants are a lot more jokey. The ace musicianship and wide-ranging influences do provide some important common strengths.

No matter how varied and involved the music is, the real strength here is the vocal work, which often utilizes three or more melodic and harmonic lines, lines which don't necessarily coincide with what the band is doing at that moment.

On the surface, perhaps, Charming Hostess comes off as a simple purveyor of folk (in the wider sense) songs. That this music sounds so attractive and easy is a tribute to the outstanding arrangement and performance. This deserves a hundred "Wow!"s.

Rhythmic, soaring, grungy hardcore. Outta Baltimore, if you can understand that. Click takes the latter-day Helmet sound, translates it back to a dirtier sound and then proceeds to shred.

The only way this sort of music works is if the drums and bass are in constant motion, cleansing the music of its excessive tendencies through a baptism of fury. In general, Click manages that trick. This is tight and mostly fast, at its best reminding me of the Therapy? EPs released by Touch and Go as one album.

Click does occasionally get a bit overwrought, and then the music bogs down, releasing shrill grunge anthem shrieks and howls of mendacity. Each time, though, the next song picks me up out of the morass and helps me back into the groove.

Not perfect, but surprisingly well-executed. I mean, this is a somewhat dates sound, and Click managed to keep my attention and even impress. There's something here.

Basic, exuberant rawk. Disjointed as all hell, but still compelling. The songs revolve around the exhortations of the singer (no band credits in the liners), a guy who sounds like he¹s trying out for the MC5.

The music follows in the same vein. Sludgy, driving riffs that never let up. The jerky style is a bit off-putting at first, but once I found the groove and settled in, the ride was fine.

Retroid as hell, but still amusing. A nice little pick-me-up for a blue day.

The sort of music that would fit in with the Wordsound crew. Hip-hop beats diced and sliced into something new. At least until the rapping starts.

And when the vocalists are on (some sloppy work there, to be sure), the music retreats to basic backing fare. When the DJ is in control, however, the music is an impressive collage of hip-hop, jazz and electronic influences. Well-textured and presented.

The album is about half DJ-controlled and half led by rapping. The vocal-less tracks are far superior, though the little dance-hall dub "Hardcore Freestyle" is an exception. Some nice vocal work there.

If the music didn't tail off so during the rappers, I wouldn't mind so much. There's just no reason to dumb down the backing tracks. DJ Cam obviously knows how to craft some fine stuff.

Spacey, ambient fare which draws on most of the current electronic movements. Dogon (one person, I assume, though the liners don't help me out there) likes to break conventional song styles and preconceptions, dropping odd references and pieces wherever and whenever he (?) pleases.

Much of the music is introspective and meditative, but don't expect consecutive songs to follow in the same vein. Dogon does a good job of mixing styles and idea, never falling into a rut.

Surprisingly human sounding for an electronic project. Dogon makes wide use of reverb and always carefully crafts his samples and beats so as to sound warn and natural, avoiding the common sterility problems.

The sort of album which encourages personal exploration. The music frees the mind, and the mind wanders out into new territory without fear of danger or recapture. The highest compliment I can pay to this sort of disc.

The sort of punk raver album that skips on by. Nine songs, 18 minutes. An EP? God, I'm sick of fucking with musical semantics. This is an album, I guess. Do you care? Doubtful.

Hai Karate kicks out its jams with more of a bar band approach (harmonica, gang vocals, etc.), and that helps to make the music even more arresting. Yeah, the riffs are old, but the lines are amusing and the energy is utterly infectious.

I've been hearing more and more punk bands wandering down this path, and I think it's a good idea. This is the natural extension of the punk ideal, jamming like a mother and swigging a few beers in the process. Simple, basic and fun.

Nothing spectacular, just a damned fine time.

The great southern boogie version of grindcore. You know, Agony Column and the like. Songs that move, vocals of concrete, guitars of doom. I kinda wish Headstrong sounded like it had more of a sense of humor, but I can't have everything.

Oh, and the riffage is inspired. The sound is slightly sludgy, and that helps to mute the guitars just enough to take off a shrill edge. You know, I can also hear early Pantera (Cowboys from Hell-era, a fine period in my book) limping about, though Headstrong bloodies a lot more brains.

Throbbing toward some imagined apocalypse, Headstrong just doesn't let up from the attack. Okay, so the sound isn't exactly in vogue these days. It still works for me.

And if Headstrong wants to continue brutalizing the world, well, that's just fine by me.

The sort of project I'd like to create someday (like when I buckle down and get a music editing program for my computer). Lots of percussion and rhythmic lines dribbling about, with plenty of sequenced tracks flitting about to fill out the space. Wonderfully complicated and perfectly ordered. And as Jhno is someone's personal music, well, it gives me hope.

Above all the beats (which are intense, but always subdued), a keyboard fleshes out some cool lines as well. Not tracked, but recorded live. Well, as live as you can get. Mellow, but hardly dull.

The key here for me is the intricate rhythm structure. Just a great use of multi-tracked recording, interspersing many different pieces, creating something of a polyrhythmic effect. My mind is aglow.

A great use of one person's imagination. The rich subtext in the music invites me to revisit again and again, always finding something new in the mix. More sounds to get lost amongst.

I liked the first Jozlin Bones disc. The band had a fresh approach to basic metal, just enough of a twist to keep me appeased. The follow-up tape, which didn't have that same attitude, disappointed me. Bill Stu, guitarist and now vocalist, told me there was a reason the tape was not a CD. The stuff wasn't quite good enough, in the band's opinion.

With Stu singing, the songs are now even more based on rhythm, and that somewhat more grinding approach (imagine Black Sabbath as played by Kiss) once again gives the band a fresh sound. Yeah, there's a fine line to walk between what the band wants to do and what its fans want to hear, but I think Jozlin Bones has rediscovered that feel.

Just some basic heavy rock and roll. nothing complicated, nothing extravagant. The songs focus on the grooves, and they are much better for that fact. This stuff flies instead of plodding, and that makes all the difference.

I'm impressed, once again. The tape was an anomaly. Jozlin Bones knows how to wring out some fine tunes.

I've had this disc for ages (a month, at least), and I've been listening to it a lot. It's Mekons, of course, and that always means great, if excessively eccentric and idiosyncratic, music. It's the band's first album in four years, and I figured it was possible the folks might want to release something with some commercial appeal. Not going to Chumbawamba lengths, but at least something like The Mekons Rock 'n' Roll.

Um, nope. This is perhaps the most dissonant and fractured Mekons album. The sequencing seems random (though that has never been a band priority), with wild changes in mood and sound between tracks. Yeah, the first and last tracks work as bookends, but past that, well, the album is a melange of self-indulgent rants.

That, by the way, is the theme. You know, Me. And if you're going to write songs about a self-absorbed society, you might as well structure your album the same way. Is this artistic over-analysis? Maybe. But the strength of the individual songs cannot be ignored. The pieces do not fit together well at all, but each shard is a gem.

Maybe the ultimate Mekons album. Not many new converts with this one, but then Mekons has never really catered to a mass audience. This is pop music fricassee for the inner circle. Weird, great and awe-inspiring. In other words, Mekons.

Fairly traditional pile-driving industrial fare. Neil Kernon produces, which brings an even shinier metal sheen to the sound (not to mention more brain-rattling power as well). And while I'm not always a fan of dirges, Nihil does them rather well.

And sometimes the tempo is picked up a bit. I do wish there was a bit more originality in the use of guitar washes and the beat, but the deathhunt attitude keeps this disc moving right along.

Yeah, this is what industrial sounds like after a bit more cash than usual. A more commercial form of Godflesh, perhaps. Everything about the project is fairly rote, except for the wild aggro vibe that climbs its way out of the sound. That's something that cannot be taught or faked.

So it works for me. I still wish the band took a few more chances, but for some reason I'm happy enough with what's here. Another album whose charms I can't quite quantify.

A variant of the midwestern rock I remember from my college days (geez, all those years ago). The chunky chord work and manic rootsiness remind of bands like Ditch Witch (albums on the departed Grass label). Anthems, but the music is too herky-jerky to really impart any pomposity. A good solution to that problem.

Solid songwriting. The tunes unfold in a familiar fashion, relying on strong lead and rhythm guitar work and a light touch on the drums. always in motion, always going some place else. Loud and fast, but still basic rock music.

The production brings out all of the necessary elements, The guitars do take center stage, but they don't drown out the rest of the band. A thick sound, but with plenty of space between the instruments. A tough trick, but one that impresses greatly.

I'd call the sound somewhat fated, I guess (especially since I heard it 10 years ago), but I still like it, and no one has really taken it over the top. Still a fresh noise for the kids. These guys have all the parts necessary.

A live album, of course. Sixteen tracks which come from all parts of the band's long run. The sound is very good, better than a couple of the studio albums, to be honest. And the performances are tight and sharp. Makes me wonder about the possibility of overdubs...

Aw, screw it. I'm not a big fan of live albums, and to be honest, Obituary doesn't really do anything revolutionary with any of its songs here. Just a nice way to collect a few favorite songs and clean them up a bit.

Well done, if studio replication is the goal of a live album. Personally, I prefer to hear some innovation, some rethinking of the old songs, but that's not here. Can't worry about it too much. For what it is, Dead turns the trick rather well.

Occasionally brilliant, sometimes clunky songs that generally present a heavy version of the hippie rock concept. Lotsa guitars, but more than enough of that wanky syncopated backbeat thing, too.

There's plenty of freedom rock moments, too. Like the opening lead guitar line for "Trust the Sun". Could be CSN, could be Lynyrd Skynyrd. With heavy bass, that is. A weird road to travel, if you ask me, but it's still strangely beguiling.

So many of the individual traits that generally grate on me. I can say that Roadside Attraction utilizes too many unassimilated influences to find a coherent sound. There's even a mellow ska tune. It actually works pretty well, but I'd still suggest a more coherent approach to songwriting.

And the band never can quite get away from Hendrixian riff styles. Yeah, I know, at least that fits into the band's general philosophy, but it sounds a bit excessive to me. Still, for all the small peeves, I've got to say I actually liked this disc. Weird. Disconcerting. I can't quite explain it. But there's a vibe here that works for me.

An extremely programmed disc, with sequencers taking charge of most of the musical duties. Oh, there are some guitars, but they sound assembled as often as they sound live. Rorschach Test makes a claim to a pseudo-religious point of view, and there is a somewhat ambiguous moral tone to some of the songs.

But no soul. The easiest place to hear this is on the cover of Berlin's "Sex". James (the singer) and an uncredited female singer do a little interplay on the chorus, and there is no connection whatsoever. Is this a philosophical observation or simply a product of the strictly-defined sound?

This is one sterile-sounding project. Produced by Neil Kernon (who has become something of a house producer for Slipdisc, I guess), I think the folks got a bit too happy with the computer stuff and didn't bother to humanize the sound. Wouldn't take much, just some fuzziness. A little softer-edged distortion on the guitars, some definition whatsoever to the vocals. Everything is so flat and regimented.

Of course, that's a popular sound. It's just not one of my favorites. Rorschach Test actually does a pretty decent job of songwriting (within the confines of the programming, anyway). I just wish I could find a connection point.

The immolation of the original Sepultura line-up is well documented. Probably not a good idea to marry your manager and then expect the rest of the band to listen to your dictates. Of course, any suggestions from me in that area are way out of line. Let's talk about the music.

Soulfly is Max Cavalera's new band. Roy Mayorga (formerly of Thorn, another Roadrunner band) on drums, Jackson Bandeira (formerly of the Brazilian band Chico Science) on guitar and Marcello Rapp (a Sepultura roadie) on bass. Lots of special guests, including members of Fear Factory, Limp Bizkit, Dub War, Cypress Hill and more.

And yet, the sound is merely an extension of what Sepultura propagated with Roots. Merely, of course, is sarcasm. The melding of hardcore, death metal, folk songs, indigenous rhythms and electronic effects is pretty fucking amazing. Powerful, moving and incendiary. Song after song rolls out, and the only thing I keep thinking is that Cavalera hasn't missed a beat. If the upcoming Sepultura album is anywhere near this good, then perhaps the split was actually a good thing for music.

An album of uncommon ferocity and tenderness. Pain, yes, in large quantities. And yet surprisingly human. Cavalera knows how to bring all of his disparate musical ideas together into one amazing sound. Soulfly is just the next step in his astonishing evolution.

A sampler giving a brief picture of what Slipdisc plans to do with its new Mercury/Polygram connection. This label has signed up many of my favorite industrial/electronic acts like Clay People, Final Cut and 16 Volt.

The Final Cut tracks here are old. Like off their 1996 album Atonement on Fifth Colvmn. Apparently Slipdisc is re-releasing that fine disc. Okay. I was just hoping for some new stuff.

No 16 Volt on this set, and the one Clay People track is a live rendition of "Car Bomb", which is a song I haven't heard before. And in case you wondered if the band could replicate its attitude (if not its sound) live, well, this should straighten you out.

Other bands on this set include Nihil and Rorschach Test (reviewed in this issue), N17 (reviewed a while back), Mary's Window and 13 Mg. All residing in the industrial universe, but with plenty of different sounds. A pretty strong lineup.

Two guitarists and a drummer. Mostly acoustic guitar, folky harmonies. The occasional extra instrumentation. If the songs aren't very good, they get found out quite quickly in this format.

They are good. Introspective, searching lyrics that examine the most naked of human thoughts and emotions. The music is pretty damned good, too, with some fine interplay between the guitars. Mellow, sure, and nicely textured. Contemplative, but not dreary by any means.

Solid songs put forward in a striking style. Sometimes the quietest albums can be the most searing. Wine Field shies away from nothing in its attempt to understand why. And there are plenty of whys to explore.

An emotionally wrenching album. Nothing cloying or saccharine; Wine Field trucks only in genuine goods. I hope these guys keep looking for a long time.