The basic tracks of this album were taken from a show commemorating Cold Meat Industry's 10th Anniversary. Now, a good amount of cleaning up and other parts have been added, but the feel is still that of a live recording.

Blot means "sacrifice" in Swedish, and Blood Axis explores that word and its many meanings. The music wanders about, sometimes vaguely classical pipe organ (very cool sound here) with some chants and percussive underpinnings. Some of the songs are much more traditional gothic folk undertakings, acoustic guitars and storytelling.

And more, for that matter. Blood Axis doesn't wallow in any particular style, but moves about as the song subjects dictate. Yeah, the songs generally plod along, but the sounds are hardly repetitive.

Well planned and well executed. The sonic explorations are first rate, and the scope is much wider than most bands even think to undertake. Top notch music for those with dark souls.

Bonga is better known in political circles as Barcelo de Carvalho. His activities during the Angolan drive for independence made him persona non grata in his homeland and in Portugal (the colonial power which administered the country), and he cultivated the pseudonym Bonga in an attempt to give himself, his views and his music some cover.

This is Bonga's second album, recorded in 1974, a year before Angola achieved independence. His main style on this disc is semba, an antecedent of samba. But the sparse instrumentation (often just a guitar, some percussion and his highly expressive voice) lends the disc more of an American folk feel.

If you're looking for soul, it's right here. Bonga sings from the depths of his soul. It is easy to hear pain and hope battle it out in his voice. The performances are astonishingly emotional, highly charged and affecting.

I'm not sure how anyone could fail to be drawn in by this album. It is simply too real to ignore. Alright, so it's 24 years old. Time does not diminish the power of emotion. And that is Bonga's stock and trade.

Chappel is also known as Dr. Michelle Millis, once a psychology professor. For the past few years, she's been pursuing a music career, garnering awards from the Billboard International Song Contests, getting some songs in an indie movie and generally working the industry side of things.

And that's where the music is. Chappel morphs through a variety of the more popular "chick rock" (if you can come up with a better term, send it to me ASAP) acts. The reviews in the press kit included references to Jewel, Tori Amos, Alanis and many others.

As you might guess, the sound is tres commercial, and good enough to make it. Chappel first released this album in South Africa (her husband--who is also her manager--is from there), and it did well. So now on to work the Americans.

I don't particularly like overly glossy rock music, no matter who does it. But Chappel has the personality and the songwriting ability to hit it big. She just needs the big cash push in the right direction.

A compilation of songs from some of Diallo's albums showcases his formidable guitar playing talent. His lyrics are fairly introspective and poetic (as best I can judge, going by translation), but the guitar is magical. Diallo plays a variety of west African styles, often merging different traditions in order to create his own sound.

Diallo doesn't shy away from Western music influences, either. Songs like "Le Futur" (the one song sung in French, and probably for this very reason) utilize rock rhythms as well as more traditional elements. It all sounds so natural, so effortless, as if Diallo simply plays what's in his head at the moment.

Well, I'm just sitting here entranced by the guitar. Diallo plays in a very technical fashion, but he still imbues his picking with a light feel, relieving any pressure that the highly-skilled runs might have built up. This is a man who knows how to make his music felt.

Wonderful sounds, pure and simple. Everything is done very well, but the guitar is simply astonishing. I can't get away from that. I simply haven't heard anyone quite like this. Amazing.

Another in the increasing number of bands which incorporate gothic imagery (and some of the musical bits, too), glam metal riffs and the general spaciness of the glam rock of the 70s. A mishmash of excess laid over a pop soul. Doppelganger's one innovation (if you want to call it that) is that the singers (and most of the band, for that matter) are female.

With a nice lush sound, Doppelganger plays in this mess at least as well as anyone. I like the loopy goofiness of the music, and I just don't pay any attention to the lyrics. What I did catch are pretty silly.

But you know, this stuff is all about attitude and fun. There's really no reason to go looking for sterling philosophy with bands like this. Just hitch on to the bumper and enjoy the ride.

Easy to like. Doppelganger lays down a plush carpet of grand sounds. As long as you don't go checking the foundation or anything, this disc ought to satisfy.

A long-standing Dutch punk band which stopped by in Chicago earlier this year to record an album with Steve Albini. This album. Right here.

Sorta sonic chaos artists, with a steady beat (from the drums, the bass and the vocals, the last of which are spit out in a strangely coherent rapidfire attack). The Ex sits in very well with such T&G stalwarts as June of 44, Don Caballero. That sort of thing. Smoothly clunky, y'know?

Oh, and always in glorious motion. Utterly addictive. My mind worms its way into the songs and doesn't come out, even when I ply it with beer. Entrancing doesn't even begin to explain the wonders of the songs.

The band has been around since 1979, and perhaps all that time together has led to some sort of collective mind meld. I couldn't begin to imagine how such unusual sounds would work together so well. Not to worry. I'll simply accept a great album and be done with it.

The band's last album (released in the U.S. on American) was a bit too bombastic. In the production, I mean. Too over-the-top, and not enough grunge in the grunge. Not that Fireside is a grunge band, not really. There are plenty of other cool references. But the sheen was a bit too much for me.

This disc is more stripped down. All the power without the annoying excess. And you know what? I was right in my last review. This sounds a hell of a lot better. Also, Fireside has done a better job of melding its conflicting musical intentions into a coherent whole.

Still anthemic, but in a cool way. The music is more subtle, even as it bashes. Altogether better, in almost every way. Greatness realized.

Well, color me impressed. Fireside has recorded the album I thought it was capable of. And Crank has the good sense to foist it upon an unsuspecting American public. Well, okay then.

Whenever a band adds loads of incomprehensible elements to its music, the bigwigs always slap an "alternative" label on the disc and schlep it out to the masses. While Furslide generally does a good job of justifying its idiosyncrasies, there are still a few bits which I simply cannot understand.

And it's not that Furslide makes complicated music. On the contrary. This is anthemic pop rock, stuff which plods more than soars. I can hear the ideas behind the music, and generally the band is unable to execute.

Add to that an overblown production sound, and you've got major label mess. Furslide needs someone at the knobs who could take the band's unusual attack and keep everything understated. There is no way this works with an overly punchy sound. And yet, that's what I'm listening to.

The basics behind the songs are good enough, but nothing else really works. I'd compare this to the Doppelganger disc I reviewed earlier. Unfavorably. Furslide sounds like it's trying, and that's the last thing it wants.

A relatively new band made up of a couple ex-members of Mineral and two other similarly credentialed emo veterans. I'm guessing that the name of the band comes from an early Mineral seven-inch. Sounds a lot like Mineral (never a bad thing), though the Gloria Record focuses a bit more on the melody potential of the stuff.

The a side is from the band's self-titled EP on Crank. The flip is a demo-quality recording, but arresting nonetheless. All early reports of greatness from the Gloria Record are hereby confirmed. Music of astonishing power.

Really, the Mineral connection should wake people up. But even if that doesn't these two songs are more than enough to make the case for the band. That doesn't happen often, but then, bands like this don't come along every day, either.

Lunatic renderings of classic rock riffs with utterly weird vocals draped on top. Imagine Half Japanese playing .38 Special, with an emo overwash. I'm not sure if the graininess of the sound is intentional, but it sure does add to the strangeness within.

I'm rarely at a loss for words, but I don't know what to make of this. The lyrics are pretty goofy, and with song titles like "401(k)", "Jazzercide" and "At Least in Jail", there's no doubting some unorthodox world views are at work here.

It grows on me, somewhat, though I'm always taken aback anew as each song kicks off. The playing itself is rather sloppy, though again, that does help the overall feel. If the intent was to create an almost unlistenable disc.

But I did listen to it, and strange as it is, I enjoyed the experience. I wouldn't recommend it, exactly, though fans of bizarre pop music might get a kick out of it.

Just looking at the name of the band and the album title, I figured this was a homocore band. Not a bad thing, not at all. But that's not the story here. More of a basic punk feel, with lyrics tending to the strangeness of everyday life. Not much in the way of sexual habits of any sort.

Which is okay. Latex Generation plys the power pop punk (like, say, 7 Seconds or something) with enough panache to keep my feet tapping. Distinguished? Not really. But not bad. A little above the middle of the road.

The lyrics are often amusing. They're not really the focal point of the band (at least, they've been kicked down a notch in the mix), but what I hear I like. Which is pretty much the story of the disc for me.

Enjoyable without being particularly memorable. Basic punk, with minimal trimmings. Nothing wrong with that. Just no real spark for me, either.

Barbes is a neighborhood in Paris, a remnant of the French colonial past. The inhabitants come from a variety of locales in north Africa, and each of the musicians here is upholding somewhat different traditions. Ranging from the west African guitar pop to Arabic folk songs (with plenty of Western pop, rock and jazz elements as well), the Orchestre swirls every little bit together into a convincing "national" sound of Barbes.

This is a live disc, but that's not apparent in the sound. The recording is excellent, picking up even the smallest nuance. The live setting might well be the ideal way to enjoy the synergy of the players. These folks work together, fusing the multitudes of influences into something original, greater than the parts alone.

Strong from beginning to end. The playing is exciting and exuberant, the arrangements designed for maximum pleasure. This music compels me to get up from my desk and dance. so I do. For a minute.

A truly uplifting experience. A wonderful disc which celebrates the greatness of diversity and the sharing of different experiences. This one screams for attention.

A move up to the big leagues, and all the proper grooming. Pushmonkey's more idiosyncratic impulses (some horns, wank-heavy funk bass lines) have been smoothed out, leaving a groove metal which cranks out anthem after anthem.

And, well, while the sound is markedly better and the musical ideas are more coherent, the result is the same. Pushmonkey isn't interesting enough to remember. The songs don't have many flaws, but they simply aren't distinctive. Nothing to remember them by.

And as each track floats by, I try and scrape for something arresting. A handhold on which to grab. But all I find is smooth rock. No purchase for my needs.

Generic, in the final estimate. Good, but not particularly distinctive. Just another in a long line.

Tight but loopy pop punk, produced at the Blasting Room by Bill Stevenson and Stephen Egerton. I suppose the album title might tip you off: These guys are out for fun.

Ragged vocals and guitar playing, but with that trademark ALL-style punch. Stevenson and Egerton know how to keep songs to the straight and narrow, in perfect pop form. It's all in there.

And so Radiobaghdad's unusual song subjects (and playing style) don't get too annoying. After all, these are some tight, tight, tight arrangements. I can only imagine what the band is like live, but on this disc the results are loads of smiles.

What I expected when I saw the Blasting Room credits. Radiobaghdad kept its quirks restrained, and so a great disc ensued. I'm still bouncing around.

Easygoing (musicwise) pop, acoustic guitars high. Sattie Clark delivers to obligatory alto vocals well, but what makes the difference is what she sings about. These songs are written to showcase the lyrics, and these songs of love gained, lost and thrown away are immediately arresting.

And whether the tunes go midtempo or a bit slower, each one is another brilliant set piece. The music is more than good enough to support the intense lyrics, and the whole is very good.

Each track lures me in further. In fact, the songs seem to gain intensity as the disc rolls on. A fine job of song sequencing, in any case. Highly crafted, but the sound is so easy.

Most people who try to pull off this sort of music get tripped up in the lyrics. Or they don't pay enough attention to the music. 17 Reasons Why gets both spot on. Which is why this one is worth hearing.

A very Seattle sort of roots rock. You know, like the mellower moments of Temple of the Dog or similar bits from Alice in Chains. Clunky chord work at reasonable volume. Obviously, this is supposed to be "important" music.

At least, that's what it sounds like. The pristine studio sound doesn't really help here, because something needs to come around to dirty things up a bit. The slacker guitar work doesn't do it, mostly because it sounds a bit contrived that way. I need to hear some more heart, more emotion.

Very well done. Every part perfect (even that guitar thing I keep mentioning). There needs to be some blue notes, something a bit off. Like I said, some soul, something to make me feel these songs. Right now, all I hear are mellow anthems. Nothing to wrap my heart around.

Sometimes perfection isn't what is needed. Sharon America (a band name, not a person, BTW) is just a bit too on. Ease up a spot, hoss.

Only three songs, but more than enough to hear some real potential. Solus, like many bands, is bringing death metal back to the masses. A more commercial, glossy sound, influences from more mainstream acts like Fear Factory and Iron Maiden, and some seriously crafted songs.

But there is still that old standby, unregulated chaos as a means of shifting the mood in a long song. I've always thought that going straight into double bass drum work from a slow lead-in is something like cheating. And Solus cheats in "Magadan".

Ah, but I'm quibbling a bit. The level of complexity is high, much higher than many similar acts, and I simply can't get over how cool this sounds. An almost lush feel from the producer. Really, really nice.

Okay, so this is on the outs as far as trends go. Solus does a nice job. I'd love to hear more.

All the songs from the demo I reviewed last year (newly recorded, I think), plus a nice raft of new ones. Same story as before, hi-octane punk rawk featuring Terri's gravelly hollers.

No let up in the attack, which is precisely what I want to hear. This isn't music which provokes an evening of deep thoughts. Nope, it is the sound of action, and Terri and the Stiff Ones provide plenty.

We are talking about mid-70s punk here, thick chords with sand on top. Very basic, and executed to perfection. Sometimes just the facts does the trick. Sure does here.

What else to say? If primal punk is what's called for, Texas Terri and the Stiff Ones deliver. Turn it up and piss off the neighbors.

Cape Verde's geographical history as a colonial crossroads has colored every piece of its people and its culture. The mingling of the old world, new world and Africa is evident in this collection.

The styles range all over the place, most often as pastiches showing off a wide variety of influences. These songs don't always compliment each other, but they do present a nice portrait of Cape Verde's musical heritage (and future).

There is no way to call any particular sound "native", and I don't think anyone on Cape Verde really tries to make that claim. This is but another case for the notion that music should be shared and explored, not put away in a museum.

The last show. I assume some editing took place (a 74-minute show? doesn't quite make sense), but even so, this set showcases one of pop music's great innovators.

Walt Mink excited me more with its potential than with how everything turned out. The music made me imagine what was possible, and often enough the actual songs didn't quite live up to what was in my mind. But don't take that observation as any sort of detraction. Walk Mink inspired my imagination. It takes great music to do that.

And the fine recording job captures the live sound without completely losing track of what the band can do. This particular performance is a little less restrained than the two shows I saw years ago, and I like that. Might as well go out with a band.

Fans (and while they may not be legion, they are fanatic) will be happy to know a set of b-sides and odds and ends will be coming out sometime next year on Deep Elm. Until then, they'll have to make do with this suicide note.

Not like anything else I've heard from Laundry Room. Imagine 80s electro-pop given a 90s grunge overwash. The songs are synth pop, but there's this layer of grime covering everything. Trust me; it sounds really, really good.

With some pleasantly idiosyncratic moves. No formulas need apply here. Xing (that's pronounced "zing", BTW) reaches for the top of the ride and gets there. The pretentious art-pop album that actually pulls off what it intends.

Oh, yeah, this is the real deal. As each new song comes through the speakers, my ears jump up and beg for more. I'm not exaggerating here. This is the sort of music which instantly impresses. Think of Peter Gabriel when he was making all those eponymous albums. Just a bit messier.

There is that initial layer of "we are making an important album here" to work through, but see, this is an important album. Sometimes pretentious music actually works. It does here. Actually, it more than succeeds. It soars.