Complicated (relatively) punk music played to the outer limits of sloppiness. Baby Snufkin shifts tempos, rhythmic ideas and melodies (such as they are) without much thought or concern for the cohesiveness of the song. That the pieces hold together at all is astonishing.

This disjointed approach almost makes me believe these guys are avant-garde popsters in disguise. Horns abound (in limited and strictured appearances) and the lyrics are rather ambitious. Not your usual punk fare.

So much thought behind such a messy sound. I can't groove on all the songs (some change up one too many times), but I like the way the band is willing to take chances. They don't always pay off, but Baby Snufkin sure works the ideas for all they're worth.

A wild collection of scattered thoughts and musical bits. Not quite great, but rather intriguing. Baby Snufkin deserves some serious attention. Something amazing may emanate from these quarters sometime soon.

The band is still borrowing a bit too much from Fear Factory for my tastes, but this first full-length from Biastfear is much better than its fairly impressive demo.

The songwriting is more cohesive, and the songs do draw from more influences. More of a European feel in some of the riffage, and a greater emphasis on up-tempo songs. Sure, there are some traditional death metal descants and double bass drum bits, but they don't overwhelm the package.

The more I dug into this disc, the more impressed I got. The sound is great (a wonderful production job which left the guitars sharp as knives and the percussion elements a bit thicker than most), and it compliments the band's musical direction well. The limited use of samples also helps flavor the package.

Hey, I know lots of folks still dig this stuff, even if the labels are moving away. Biastfear is attempting to buck the trends, playing music that the industry doesn't want to hear right now. I admire that. The band keeps getting better. I hope something breaks for these guys.

The first track is a spooky mix of chunky emo stuff, a cool lead guitar lick, spoken vocals and this ethereal wailing. A wide mix of stuff that really appeals to me. The other three tracks are more basic emo pop stuff, quite reminiscent of the Treepeople, though with female vocals.

Very good in their own right. The production on these tracks (or the mastering of the vinyl) isn't great. The bass is kinda lost, and the treble sounds all out of whack. I have a shitty turntable, but stuff usually sounds better than this.

Still, I can hear glorious music. Cotillion knows how to add just the right amount of melody to the emo form and craft some stirring pop anthems. Yeah, this style is among my faves, but Cotillion does it right. An impressive set.

College rock anthems, taking me back to my own school days, when this particularly clunky form of disjointed pop music was terribly popular. Back before Dino Jr had a big label deal. Yeah, prehistory.

Sorry to be so sarcastic. Everything has to come around again, and as emo is right in this ballpark (though Flu Thirteen engages in way too much melody to fit in there), I guess I should have been prepared for this re-evolution.

Flu Thirteen does the form well enough. The riffs aren't inspiring, but they're competent. The songs do have a nice, raw emotive quality, though that ragged sentimentality can grate after a while. Good, but nothing more.

I kinda like the disc. This album won't change my life, but I don't mind listening to it. I know, I know, this wishy-washy sort of review doesn't serve anyone well. But it's how I feel. Flu Thirteen is pretty cool. Above average. Worth hearing. Just not awe-inspiring.

Another dose of that neo-white boy funk-folk sound. You know, syncopated jangle rock. I keep trying to define this sound better each time out, because I've gotten quite a few questions as to what I've meant. Okay. In the realms of Poi Dog Pondering and Blues Traveler, though in this case Help Wanted stays less pretentious and more groove friendly.

In fact, while I really can't stand the two bands I spoke of above, I like what Help Wanted does with the sound. The songs are serious, but they aren't self-indulgent and excessive. In fact, each line and idea is trimmed to just the right length. In fact, some of the songs sound a lot more like R.E.M. than Dead again.

All these references do mean something. Help Wanted still needs to work and further define its own sound. The band isn't quite sure how to play certain passages, and sometimes I hear the feel of the music shift out of character.

Still, the songs are good and the performances more than adequate. More work is needed, but Help Wanted has a decent handle on where to go.ut the ideas, but it works. You can dance, contemplate, or both. Why not?

The term EP is becoming more and more meaningless in this age of compact discs. Even without the remix of "Scetch" appended to the end, this set is longer than most punk albums. Hemisphere trucks in rather sterile explorations of techno sounds and electronic drum formations.

So in other words, this is stuff you might like to play at your next dance party. Or maybe not. We're not talking about strict 4/4 stuff here. A bit more complicated and strange than that. Beats drop in and out at almost random intervals, and the music isn't terribly inviting. Kinda alienating, really.

And I like that. Hemisphere is taking chances, as it should. Sometimes the melodic lines work with the rhythms, and sometimes they don't. Sometimes the songs themselves sound woefully out of sync. Just more exploration.

Those efforts pay off. Yeah, some of this stuff is way out there. The sounds of an alternate universe. The sort of thing that spaz in the corner dances to after one too many beers. Hey, everybody needs something. And Hemisphere provides admirably.

Atmospheric songs, alternately lush and strident. Io kicks through a number of styles in a short period of time. The songs themselves sound a bit unfinished (often only a guitar, bass and drums, and the mix is so sparse those holes in the sound are gaping), but I like the writing.

Inviting, almost. Asking the listener to fill in the holes, perhaps. Io is trying so hard to do so many things, I can understand. It's not the band's intent to really stomp folks anyway, so maybe I'm worrying about nothing.

Io's adventurous spirit is almost breathtaking. Each song comes alive in a completely different universe, but with enough of a connection to link to the others. Probably too creative for mainstream types, but that's not a sin or anything.

By the end, I was much more enamored of the strange mix. I'm still not sure it's best, but at least it didn't bother me so much. Io likes to travel, and this cruise is a good idea.

The album title is something of an attempt to describe the sound of the band. They guys seem to think they're breaking new ground. Not really. I've heard a good number of industrial glam metal takes on grunge. The Kill does it as well as any, and if you're into thick, heavy grooves covered in cheese, well, this here's a nice set.

A lot more glam than grunge. Kinda sounds like a bit heavier of Kill for Thrills or Faster Pussycat, bands which had some nice moments. And since this sound is coming around again, this is as good a time as any to crank it up.

The Kill hits its stride with "I Wanna Know", which marries a neo-industrial sound with a bouncy groove and anthemic hollering. A real guitar anthem that excites easily. Tasty stuff.

The album gets better as it goes along (suggesting some sequencing issues). Not just a rehash of glam metal nostalgia, the Kill updates the sound and has created some very addictive music. The hair dancers proudly survive.

I'd kinda lost track of Kravitz. I dug the extreme Sly ripoffs on his first album, but to be honest, I wasn't that knocked out that I really bothered to check out any of his later stuff. And now, a fifth album (I assume that's what the title signifies).

Self-consciously funky stuff. Fishbone that's been out in the sun for a bit too long. Kravitz likes to meander musically (He's happy to assume the sounds of Hendrix, Prince or the aforementioned Mr. Sly), but he never really settles into the grooves. This is workmanlike music at best. Kinda like Pat Boone doing "Blueberry Hill", Kravitz takes potentially good material (which he has written) and turns it into a bland dish.

Just no surprises. Yeah, no song echoes another, but even with this avalanche of diversity, I just couldn't find a soul lurking anywhere. Kravitz is an astonishing talent, but he's still coloring inside the lines. Gotta take some chances somewhere.

Competent music for the average listener. All the kick ass riffs are in the right spots, and all the lightly funky bass lines bounce along at just the right pace. Kravitz needs to inject a whole lot more of himself into the songs. Then, maybe, his brilliance will finally throw off this shroud of mediocrity.

Yet another rap-metal-hardcore act. Method 51 doesn't whine or wank around on faux funk. No, these guys are out to kick ass, and they use whatever sound gets them to that result. Attention to detail. I like that.

More like Pro-Pain than Rage (and actually, more like Sepultura or Soulfly than either of those), Method 51 grinds through a series of moshworks, peppering the hoarse vocals with occasional rap-spoken lyrics.

A metal production job has left the guitars sharp and arresting and every piece distinct from the others. No sloppiness anywhere. Again, I think that works better. Keeps all the elements from getting sloshed together.

I do wish Method 51 would pick up the tempo from time to time, but that's a regular complaint from me. These guys kick out this sound as good as most (alright, it's not quite so good as the Soulfly, but Method 51 is not too far behind). Quality work.

I'm reviewing this mostly to let you know that two songs from the album (reviewed below) are also available on a cool picture disc. I used the picture from the b-side because I thought it looked better. Hope that's cool.

Light pop. Not folky stuff; there's still a drum kit moving the songs nicely along. I liked the b-side ("Pinprick") much better. It's just a better song.

Um, if you dig the band, there's a picture disc. That's pretty much what this review is about. I will note that the sound on the vinyl is awful compared to the CD (as often happens with picture discs). Still, the colors are pretty.

Pretty much Wend Van Dusen and Sean Heskett (they're the folks on the cover) and a few studio buds. Something like what the Leaving Trains might have sounded like if Falling James focused a bit more on pop than punk.

The songs are loopy affairs, both lyrically and musically. Lots of strange bits populate the background (harp wails and the odd horn bits), and the song subjects deal with some of the stranger sides of life.

Van Dusen produced, and she's given this disc a real echoey sound. Adds to the general sense of unease and helps to further define the band as a purveyor of misfit melodies and strange idea.

A strangeness that I find amusing. Phoenix Thunderstone isn't so much out there as in there, if you get what I'm saying. A lot of self-examination going on, and that sort of thing ain't always pretty. Fixating, but not pretty.

This puppy should win lots of awards for packaging. I generally don't mention such things, but the design and construction of this package are amazing. First rate and terribly impressive. Still, I'm not swayed by such first impressions. The music is always more important than the cardboard.

I had to figure that anyone who would be so meticulous about the casing would also take great care in crafting the music. The sound is basic college rock, with tight playing and a well-orchestrated sound (the band utilizes both acoustic and electric guitars at the same time and also drops in some horns and other cool sounds at appropriate moments).

Solid, if not particularly distinguished songwriting. The tunes move nicely and they work. In fact, it is easy to hear how much pain, sweat and suffering went into putting these songs into order. This stuff has indeed been worked out, both in rehearsal and live. The Pods know exactly what buttons to push and how hard to push them.

That's not to say this is calculated and dull. More like a finely crafted piece of furniture. Something you're happy to look at for many years. The Pods have a solid sense of how to make fine music. And that work has served them well.

More arty than the full-length I reviewed a while back. Pound WI still cranks out its songs in that semi-sludge format (plodding, plodding, plodding), but the guitars and vocals are more airy and free-flowing. Leading to more of a noise-rock sound a la Craw or something.

I'm still not entirely sure where these guys are going, but this seven-inch sure has me a lot more interested. Where before power for power's sake was the main thrust, here the outbursts are more controlled and calculated. Now these guys are sounding a lot more like a Skin Graft act.

And that's always cool in my book. A real step forward. And it's not like I didn't like the earlier stuff.

What does that cover say? It says, "I sure wish I was Billy Joel". But instead of trucking in piano pop, Russo slings out some smooth soul-tinged rock. Yeah, still stuck in the seventies.

So the reference is more JT than BJ. Russo manages the sound well enough, and his songs aren't bad. The main problem is that they're not terribly interesting. And that always bugs me.

Just easy-going fare for the world-weary boomers. Perhaps if I was 40 and single and nursing a 5-year-old Porche along (a remnant of my early mid-life crisis), I might dig this. But I'm more than 10 years removed from that potential reality.

And Russo just doesn't work for me. He puts all the pieces together well enough, but the music doesn't stir my drink, much less my soul.

More sludgy revisionism of the Jesus Lizard idea. This album is even thicker and messier than Grit!, and the songs are just as uncoordinated. A cavalcade of musical gore.

And as such, Slughog still cranks out an amazing racket. I'm still not hearing anything terribly innovative, but the volume knob kept creeping higher as the disc wore on.

Guilty pleasures are often the best. There aren't many artistic or aesthetic reasons to recommend Slughog, but if you like music that will clean out your bowels faster than a Tabasco enema, well, this here's the ticket.

Glorious throbbing. Precisely the sort of music that keeps the generation gap up to date.

Juliana Nash has the huge alto voice to kill for. And Talking to Animals does its best to give that voice a context in which to make a big statement. And the songs float and swoop in a pretentious anthemic dance, hoping to catch onto some scrap of importance.

Big rock in the biggest of ways. Like the last couple Concrete Blonde albums, perhaps. The main problem is that most of the songs aren't about much of anything at all. The lyrics aren't so much mystical as simply mystifying. Never confuse incomprehensible with deep, okay?

I kinda like the huge sound. It's pretty cool, and Nash's voice is certainly impressive enough to carry even the most inane of lyrics. It's just that there seems to be the implication here that something grand is going on.

And it's just not so. Hey, I appreciate shooting for greatness as much as the next fool. As long as true greatness isn't bestowed upon mere pretenders. Talking to Animals has the tools, but not the game. Yet.

Power pop with lots of rock excess. The sweet tones are drenched in distortion and extraneous guitar lines, yielding a unique concoction. Shuffling and staggering toward some unseen goal.

Really, more of a British approach to the current pop resurgence. Throneberry throws all sorts of references into each song, tying each package up neatly enough (though always with a couple threads undone). Rather sophisticated fare.

Music that bathes with a glow of splendor. Oh-so-over the top, and yet still subtle when understatement is necessary. Delicate and crashing, aggressively appealing, Throneberry simply refuses to settle for the easy road.

Add in a lush sound and immaculately crafted songs (all that extra stuff is just dressing), and the result is damned near irresistible. The band went for the gusto and got something even more impressive.

The experimental techno musings of Stephan Groth. He has plenty of help on the periphery, but this disc is pretty much his alone. And the visions within are impressive.

Much the same atmospheric feel achieved by X Marks the Pedwalk. Groth doesn't mess around too much with beats, sticking to basic fare there, but he does some really wonderful things with his synths. Lots of lines intersecting and connecting different sections of songs (he'll keep a groove going for a minute or so and then mutate, a sort of variations on a theme approach).

Keeps the brain alive. Not exactly meat market club material, but that's not what Quantum Loop seems to be about. The idea with this imprint is to kick out some great new techno sounds. Total Transformation is just another great find.

Just on the techno side of ambient (if you wish to split those two up; if not, then realize this does have regular beats), but with all the exploration usually associated with a good ambient album. A wonderful mind workout.

Just in time to promote this year's concert string, this set has twenty-five tracks from last year's participants, recorded live. Almost everyone is here, from Sarah McLachlan and Jewel to lesser-known artists like Autour de Lucie and Patty Griffin. In fact, the better tracks here are from the folks you may not know.

Because, really, who wants to hear what the Cardigans sound like live? I'll give you a hint: it's not good. And I'm not really needing to hear anything else, period, from Lisa Loeb or Meredith Brooks. I'd prefer not to discuss the Susanna Hoffs track, a bland rehash of perhaps the worst Bangles song on record.

But dig in and you'll find Abra Moore, Lhasa, Griffin and Emmylou Harris. Harris's voice is always welcome in my house. The small gems easily outshine the bluster of the big guns (which was one of the intentions of the Fair in the first place).

Woefully inconsistent, as any collection like this is bound to be, this set does make a nice case for this year's tour. I mean, everybody can find something to like here.

Power pop straight from the garage. The production values vary from mediocre to horrible, but the songs themselves take more chances than the average pop act.

Which is why it is necessary to dig through the detritus to find some good stuff. None of the tracks here are great, but most of them have a quirk or two that easily impresses. Generally lighter in tone than most of the pop I've been hearing lately (this may also have something to do with the generally bad sound).

Only 14 tracks, which makes this collection seem a bit skimpy compared to some I've reviewed recently. Still, there's enough here to keep a pophead on a sugar high for a good while.

A fine compendium of Boston-area hardcore proponents. From such stalwarts as A.C., Tree, Sam Black Church and 6L6 to lesser-known (but still cool) acts like Scissorfight, Non Compos Mentis, Porn Star and Quintaine Americana.

As you should be able to tell from the previous lists, the term "hardcore" is loosely defined. This is most definitely loud music, stuff made more enjoyable with the application of volume. But few folks would mistake A.C. for 6L6, obviously.

As near as I can tell, all of the songs here are unique to this compilation. And the stuff is not second quality. Fine music from a wide-ranging set of bands. Exactly why compilations like this should exist.