Yer basic pop punk, with plenty of outside influences coloring the songs. That's the best way to do this, of course.

Some strident emo lines flavor the guitars, and the song structures aren't repetitive. Yeah, mostly pop, but not always three chords, a verse, a chorus and a bridge. I know, bands like this don't always think in such terms, but uncreative folks just migrate to dull structures. Not the Alkaline Trio.

Joyous and exuberant (the music, that is; the lyrics are sometimes nicely introspective and thoughtful), bounding through the disc. Not a dull song in the bunch.

A well-conceived and crafted album. Pop is pop, but this is good pop. The real thing. Stuff that stands up to listen after listen. Just hit repeat.

Unabashed metal, the letter says. And so it is. Industrial rhythms, operatic lead guitar lines and grindcore riffage. Underproduced (the sound is a bit thin), but certainly good enough to make an impression.

A good one, at that. Black Spiral takes the basic melodic Eurometal style and runs it through a Sepultura-style processor. The result is fast, furious and much more textured than I expected. Solid work.

I do wish the extreme ranges (both treble and bass) had been recorded a bit better. This disc is quite middle heavy, which is great for the kick ass rhythm guitar work (reminiscent of Slayer's good old days), but not so good for some of the more creative elements.

Ahh, but I'm quibbling, really. This disc gave me a real rush. One of the best self-released metal discs I've ever heard. Really. These guys are damned good.

As more than one critic has observed, most of what folks call swing today is actually jump blues. Semantics, you say? Well, screw it. Blue Plate Special is dead on the trend.

Not bad, mind you. The band is suitably talented and loose, not terribly concerned with hitting notes dead on. In fact, the musical arrangements are what make this disc work. The lyrics are banal, generally utilizing dated hipster slang, and the Harry Connick soundalike (and we all know who he's cribbing from) at the mike is not particularly interesting.

But the band keeps the tempo up and the bass lines jumping. I'm not a fan of the new jack swing, mind you, but this is at least tolerable. At least until the vocals kick in.

I'd like the hear the band all by itself, no vocals need apply. Then I might be enthusiastic.

Bongwater's existence (or at least, album releasing career) approximately spanned my college years. At KCOU, where I spent many happy years, Bongwater and Swans albums kept getting stolen. We'd buy replacements, and some idiot would steal those. A testament to their popularity, I guess.

And now, looking back (and listening to this set, three times already), it's pretty easy to understand how much Bongwater had to do with the whole "alternative" scene. For starters, the notion that "serious" music could be laugh-out-loud funny. And the notion of music as performance art (already advanced by such folks as Diamanda Galas and Laurie Anderson) was seriously enhanced by Ann Magnuson's off-kilter vocal character studies.

The real innovation, though, was the way Kramer (just the one name, of course) used tape loops, found sound and regular instruments to craft his music. For all the ways that Magnuson could warp her voice to properly express a song, Kramer could mold the music to do the same. This willingness to experiment (and occasionally fail) is what made Bongwater albums so refreshing and vital.

All that and more is in this set, which contains most everything Kramer and Magnuson released as Bongwater. Fans of such disparate acts as Beck and Tori Amos can find plenty of reference points. If you're even the slightest bit interested in recent important (not to mention exciting) music, this box is required listening. Many mainstream folks have commented on Bongwater's failures, dismissing the band as hopelessly "arty". But it's precisely those failures (and the spirit of experimentation which caused them) which made Bongwater so necessary.

And to be honest, the failures were a small percentage of the output. For each screw-up there are bits like the amazing cover of Roky Erickson's "You Don't Love Me Yet", "Dazed and Chinese", "Khomeni Died Tonight" and "David Bowie Wants Ideas". Goofy, complex and always arresting. Bongwater was never boring. The nearly five hours of music here will testify to Bongwater's prescience and glory. Not to be missed.

Eight live versions of songs from pre-Epitaph albums, and one studio track from the forthcoming album.

I've gotten more shit for my three sentences about the Bouncing Souls in a NOFX live review than anything else I've ever written. Like 500 people flaming me. And you know, I've written all those people back and said, "Maybe it was a bad night." However, this album makes me think that perhaps it was regular night. Sure, this is rousing, fun stuff. It's just delivered in an utterly haphazard way, generally out of tune and not terribly coherent.

Now, I know, playing like you're drunk off your ass (I don't want to make any unfounded accusations, here) is a lot of fun to do. Listening, however, isn't necessarily so amusing.

On the other hand, the studio track is really good. Like the last album. Dead solid. Perhaps these guys simply haven't figured out how to stay away from the Budweiser (or whatever) before and during shows. Everybody has to grow up someday.

Lilting, hesitant pop music. Reminiscent of Dave Matthews Band. David Flick's vocals are a dead ringer (he even gets the Eddie Vedder references down pat), and the band is pretty much the same sort of thing.

Which leads to the obvious question. Why? Sure, Dave Matthews Band is monstrously huge, but can you really score big by copiously copying a style like that?

Well, yeah. Ask Candlebox. Ask Stone Temple Pilots. Ask Alanis Morissette. Of course straight out theft is profitable. But the music, the music just has no life. It's well-played, and generally enthusiastically so, but this is far too close to the real thing. We've not talking about an influence here. That was back up the road a ways.

Sure, bands learn how to play by imitating others. Cover band work, etc., is great for building up chops. But not for recording. Not for posterity. Not here.

Basic basic. Punk rawk as played by four exceedingly unattractive people. Lots of sexual references, lots of fast and furious guitar playing (and flailing, really). This is not an exercise is finely crafted music.

No, it's amped up rockin' blooze with a punk heart. Why else record songs with titles like "Bad Bitch Boogie", "Stick It In" and (my favorite) "Fuck Minneapolis"? I can't answer that.

Oh, and ever so sloppy. Hollered vocals, slap-happy bass work and a lead guitar which kinda shorts out from time to time. This sounds like a live album, though it was recorded in a studio. Needless to say, no overdubs.

Charming, in the same way that a cute girl's puke is when you're completely fucked up. The next morning, well, the room's gonna smell awful. But at that moment, you can only love her more.

Calvin Trillin once described Reading (Pa.) as the home of the world's most successful aluminum siding salesman. Having wandered past the town a couple times, I'd have to agree. But then, that's not saying much about Cloud Party, is it?

No. These nice young men play some nice roots rock. They dabble with backbeats and harmonies, but they don't even come close to being cloyingly overpolished. The lyrics aren't particularly exciting, but they're serviceable.

And the riffage is as well. Nothing particularly exciting, but nice, rolling fare. Songs for a nice afternoon on the front porch. If I had one anymore. Got to work on that.

Perfectly good stuff. Not overly distinctive, but solid. If I dug this sort of thing more, I might be excited.

Speaking of using backbeat and harmonies to a cloying effect. Well, actually, there isn't much in the way of harmonies, but still. This is right down that Blues Traveler-Hootieman-etc. alley.

The songs have rather intriguing titles (they're all quite long--see the album title for an example), but what lies within generally doesn't live up to the hype. And let's just say I'm not the biggest fan of blown up roots music.

Which is too bad, probably. Dastardly (or whoever) has a good voice, slightly raspy when he needs some edge, and the band is more than solid. The sound is good, bringing out the right parts at the right time. It just...

I don't particularly like acoustic guitars with my backbeats, y'know? It sound arbitrary, I'm sure, but that's just how it is. I can't dig it, man.

The sort of music I'm used to getting from the Cold Meat Industry label. de Babalon crafts intricate electronic soundscapes, full of re-engineered sounds, washes of distortion and the occasional implied melody. Oh, yeah, and some of that killer hardcore electronic percussion work.

The best part about the disc is its diversity. The tracks do not sound alike in any way, shape or form. There is a spirit of experimentation and adventure here that is generally lacking in most works. De Babalon is not afraid to try new things or to put those attempts down on tape.

I simply enjoyed letting the songs track down, hearing what would flow next. The influences come from all over the electronic and gothic landscape (gothic like Brighter Death Now, just so you understand what I'm talking about here) and are merged into a nice quilt of sound.

Almost too much. This is an album of uncompromising vision and power. Mainline it and see what happens.

Electronic acts on major labels tend to bum me out. Not because of any real excess influence on the part of the moneymen. No, it's more that a band has to be pretty unspectacular to get picked up by a biggie. Faithless does some nice things on the mellow side of the electronic movement, but it's all kinda, well, there. Not here. Not affecting me.

My main complaint is that the songs aren't really songs. They're bits and pieces of rather disparate musical ideas. Incoherent, really. Is that revolutionary or just lazy? Have to think on that one a while.

The pieces, many of them anyway, are good enough. The mellow dancehall vocals by Maxi Jazz are reasonably good, but it's all the other parts which don't always match up. Again, I know it's intentional. Is it some sort of innovation?

I don't know, really. The fractured music is not particularly innovative, though it does some nice things with found sound. I'd probably dig this if I was drunk or tripping or not having to pay close attention to it. Ah, so I guess I answered my question, after all.

The cover and packaging scream "trendy electronic crap". Actually, it's trendy emo. Not crap. Good stuff. Much in the Mineral tradition of long songs, heavy on the mellow exposition. In fact, sometimes it takes forever for the songs to get rolling. But once they do, hoo boy.

Not for those with ADD. Nope. This music demands patience, and the time spent listening is well rewarded, indeed. 45 Spiders knows how to properly grow a song. How to put all the right pieces in the right order to make a devastating statement.

Yeah, I guess it's really good. The three-piece sounds much bigger (even while sticking to the sparse traditions of emo). Maybe it's just the ideas which are bigger. Could be.

Top quality. At the top of the top quality stack. Seven songs here, and all of them are great. No clunkers, not even a mediocre tune. Nope. Greatness on a disc, served up and ready. It is albums like this which make me happy to write about music.

Low key musings in the nexus of electronic and hip hop grooves. Would be right at home on Wordsound, but F8 is on the other coast, and so that's how this goes. Three songs and two remixes. A fair set.

It would be fair to say that Gadget doesn't particularly go anywhere. These songs are about style, about feel, about a certain groove. Conceptual, sure, but still pretty cool. The sound is exquisite, almost three dimensional, with various tracks moving from back to front almost at will.

Innovation? Nah. But some smokin' sounds, nonetheless. Just let them settle for a while.

F8, of course, is a 12"-only enterprise. This slab of vinyl works both at 45 and 33 (man, I know artists hate to hear that). It is 33, but sped up, it makes for some cool, speedy dance stuff. Slowed down to where you're supposed to be, and it morphs into a cool hip-hop groove with odds and ends abounding.

Gadget, of course, has already proven its worth in this arena with a fine F8 12" of its own. This one is a bit more funky, down with the lo-fi grooves (the Slotek boys would most pleased). Does it go anywhere? I'm not sure. But I like where it is.

I'm glad this particular audio form is being kept alive, and with such fine tuneage, it should be around for a while longer. Anyone fancying the mellower sides of the electronic revolution would be met well here.

Another F8 release. I've gotta say, it's so nice getting a big ol' slab of vinyl. The smell of fres vinyl makes me... Okay, let's talk about the music. Like Gadget, the Jazz Cannon is not in any hurry to get anywhere. There's a style being laid down, and it sits hard on the road.

More of a soulful industrial sound, spoken word delivery and backup singers draped over wah-wah guitar and a seductive beat. Both songs that way, mind you. Maybe more of an old Run-D.M.C. feel. Gettin' on 20 years old, now, with a brand new shine.

The flip is an instrumental, though with the same characteristics. This is just fun music, stuff that makes the day pass faster. Gets me in one of those moods. And I won't argue with that.

This purports to be a reworked soundtrack for an underappreciated movie. It's not, of course, but all the little "testimonials" and spoken pieces are pretty funny, even if they crib a bit too much from Pulp Fiction ("Tobaccy in Paree", etc.). Johnny Socko is a ska punk band from Indianapolis. Which begins to explain everything...

Amusing, but generic. Johnny Socko has all the ska basic down, but doesn't really do anything with them. The performances are fair, but not outstanding. I know, this is really punk, but the band has to work a bit more. I don't mind out-of-tune horns and vocals which can't hold a note for even a split second, but I want some daring, some derring-do even.

Not here. This is just an average ska band from the midwest. Hey, I can relate. But I need more. Johnny Socko doesn't have it. At least, not here.

Just yer average ska punk disc, with a humorous gimmick attached. Decent, but nothing to get excited about.

Technical, Euro-style instrumental guitar. Like, say, Yngwie Malmsteen. A fair comparison, and Maalstroom (the odd spelling is the result of some legal affairs work) is in the same league, though the guitar is a bit slower (albeit more expressive).

Which is to say, the songs are written around the guitar, and past the guitar, there's not much of interest. The lead lines are pretty good, and they're quite well played, but I'd like to hear some more from the rest of the band.

And who knows? The band now has a singer, and forthcoming albums will feature vocals. Usually that diminishes the music, but with Maalstroom it might encourage some diversity in carrying the load. Let the other guys take a shot, now and again.

For what it does, Maalstroom does it well. A bigger band effort is needed to really take the sound to the next level.

The rather amusing bio says the band has put its dues on credit and is going for broke. When you play pop music, well, you'd better have an unusual perspective. That statement sorta fits.

The band has been in existence a bit more than a year. It is apparent that the two songwriters haven't quite figured out the strengths and weaknesses of the band (for example: there might be good lead guitar playing, but it's most often obscured by leaden rhythm work). And the whole ensemble is still a bit clunky. Not quite together.

But there are nice bits. The first track is a great, sunny pop piece. Nothing else on the album even comes close to matching it. My advice would be to keep "Pick It Up" and go back to the drawing board. Hey, one great song in a year is a good year. Particularly for a new band. And there are other snatches of sound which are nice. In general, the band is enthusiastic and energetic, which helps sell even lesser material.

But this is a young band, and like it or not, Me & Jeremy is going to have to pay its dues. The songwriters are going to have to learn how to write better, and the band is going to have to gig those songs into recording shape. I'm all for jumping ahead in the line. But this band will have to wait its turn.

Power pop that wants to make it big. Highly crafted, chunky chords and shiny production values. I generally don't like the overtly commercial approach, but see, these songs are pretty good.

Not great, but good. Catchy enough to attract the attention of the average listener. With enough hooks to keep me on the ride, too.

At least, as long as the tempo stays up. When the band kicks into midtempo (read "We're trying to be deep here") mode, it loses me. Those songs simply don't work so well. This is not music which invites examination. Thus the slower speeds just don't match up well at all.

I liked it better than I figured, really. Good luck selling to the masses. That's obviously the aim. And there's nothing wrong with that. Really. I mean it.

Seattle-style pop music, more in the eclectic Built to Spill mode, with more than a dose of U.K. snottiness. All over the place, but surprisingly cohesive. Lots of good songs.

And that's despite the fact that the band refuses to play any particular style. At least most songs stick to the same influence. Most, anyway. One unifying factor is a jangly atmospheric feel (I'm not kidding about that, even though it is something of an oxymoron) which lends most songs a melancholy edge.

Another important factor is the strong songwriting. The music and the lyrics are fused together, stylistically. There's no way to take one without the other. The mark of greatness, really. And the playing is solid. With some truly unusual licks from time to time, that's something to appreciate.

The best pop albums have range. The Nevada Bachelors are lucky to stay on the map. This album does more than impress; it inspires.

Another Swedish import, though certainly nothing like Millencolin. For starters, Refused broke up recently. So no tour. No next album. All there is, is right here. The disc at hand.

There aren't a lot of punk bands I'd call innovative. I mean, musically innovative, not simply creative for the genre. The Ex album I reveiwed in the last issue would certainly fit, and whatever you want to call Iceburn certainly fits as well. Past that? Well...

This just might qualify. Refused isn't so much concerned with its style of music (which vaguely resembles hardcore at times) as much as what the music itself does. This is a punk band with a standup bass player. The songs often wander off into unusual musical territory. Not rock, not jazz, not anything I've really heard before. That's pretty impressive.

Remember Rodan? Well, that's the closest reference I can come up with. A visionary set of songs. Truly, one of the great rock and roll albums. If, of course, it is rock and roll at all.

Not what most folks would think of when the term "classical music" comes up. Sigal likes to keep his compositions simple (usually based around one instrument, be it piano, guitar, flute or whatever), but hardly conventional. He dribbles in sampled and taped sound as he sees fit, and his melodies are not easily described, either.

While unusual, Sigal's music is rather inviting. He easily draws in the listener with a simple entrance, and then proceeds to slowly, but completely, shatter reality and craft a new world. There are elements of the noise and ambient movements in his pieces, but he uses those ideas in wholly new ways.

And while he sets a pretty opening, he never fails to challenge thoughts, ideas and perspectives. Sigal is certainly a modern composer, and he uses every tool at his fingertips to create his music.

Music which never fails to dazzle. Most impressive composition. Worth searching out and cherishing.

Very much influenced by two-tone ska, Slow Gherkin rips off tuneful chunks of meat and presents them in a most appealing sauce. I'm not a big ska fan, mind you, but this approach works for me.

Plus, the songs are pleasantly witty and the horns nice and tight (Never underestimate the power of tight horns). Oh, a real early 80s rush coming on here. Takes me way back, and I keep hitting the next track button.

Just can't slurp up enough, you know? Basic pop rock tunes with ska underpinnings. Most delicious. Almost like a buffet without end.

What's with all the food references? Must be hungry. But the serious truth is that Slow Gherkin has all the chops necessary to really impress. I'm already converted.

Moody, involved pop music. With all the lyric intensity necessary to carry off the sound. A nice, full sound for a three-piece. Great songs played to their fullest extent.

And that's the key here, strong songwriting. David Steinhart has been doing this sort of thing for 15 years or so, and he's got the trick down, though obviously he hasn't lost his passion. The lyrics ooze with feeling.

As for the music, well, it is a reasonably modern update of the mellow British invasion of the 80s. The Smiths. Aztec Camera. Etc. The stuff that did not catch on with the kids. Though, of course, it was monstrously popular with those contorted college radio types.

All this writing around another solid album for the band. I noted in my review of the band's last album that I really don't go for stuff like this. Except that I dig Smart Brown Handbag. Still true. Both ways. I really like this album.

Smile still has Seattle on the mind, but this album is a lot more Posies than Nirvana. Actually, the band has always been a pop outfit, but here the grungy fuzz overtones are whacked back a bit, letting the power pop base come through a bit clearer.

I guess last year's five-song single was an anomaly. These songs are strong and focused, crafted but played with a cavalier attitude. Couldn't tell you why I like this so much better, other than to speculate on the quality of the music.

The loss of the fuzz excess is welcome. Smile is able to utilize some nice vocal work and round out its sound more completely. All of its weapons are now at the ready. Smile is ready for war.

With a good album, to boot. Not yer usual pop outing. This one's a bit heavier. But well-appointed nonetheless. A most welcome surprise.

A tribute to the man who took the baritone sax out of the closet and established it as a "real" jazz instrument, much like Sidney Bechet did for the soprano sax. Gerry Mulligan wasn't just a great player, though. He wrote a multitude of songs, and he always seemed to have a new take on where jazz should be headed.

Strayer put together this septet with rhythm section of old Mulligan hands (Ted Rosenthal, Ron Vincent and Dean Johnson) and a top-flight set of horn players (Randy Brecker, John Mocsa, Ted Nash and Strayer himself).

The title track is a Mulligan-influenced Strayer composition, and the other eight songs come from Mulligan's vast list. Strayer presents a nice overview of Mulligan's career, even as he adds his own touch to some classic pieces (and some lesser-known ones).

The septet doesn't sound intimidated by the task at all. Instead it revels in the material, the chance to work through some great pieces. There is a sense of fresh discovery and even playfulness, making this album as fun as it is informative. Extremely good work. A find of the highest order.

Oddly, the press that accompanied this disc preferred to lay Three Piece Suit down into the loungecore set. I don't really hear that, though this is mellow pop music, for the most part.

But way too weird to be lounge. TPS tries an awful lot of things, sometimes succeeding ("Anna" is a really cool pop tune, and "The Minus Tune" is a pleasantly warped instrumental), sometimes not (A surf tune called "Son of Surftastic"). The rest of the stuff is solid, if not overwhelming.

But, you know, it is an EP. An introduction. TPS is going a lot of directions at once, and perhaps it should pull back off the reins a spot and focus. Maybe not. Experimentation is never a bad thing.

TPS intrigues me. I'm not sold, not yet. But I'll definitely take another helping.

Jangly, precise pop music which sounds something like Bowie doing emo, with lots of extraneous weirdness abounding. Oh yeah, we're talking something tres unusual here.

I can't really describe it any better than that. The overall sound is rather cluttered, with a number of effects and samples simply clogging the works up further. There's a hell of a lot going on, and I can't make much sense of it most of the time.

Treiops Treyfid is complex, not complicated. A million ideas at once, and they don't add up. I rather enjoyed trying to find some sort of unifying theory, but in the end, I failed.

That doesn't mean the album failed, mind you. But I don't think it, well, works. The intellectual acumen is unchallenged. The music simply doesn't move me.

Cleopatra has licensed so much punk stuff, it keeps cranking discs like this out. Not that there aren't decent tunes here. These tracks are taken from Jungle Records, featuring such acts as UK Subs, Manufactured Romance, Johnny Thunders and the Adicts. There is stuff with some sort of historical significance.

And there's a lot of crap. I could go through the vault and cull a similar album simply by rolling dice. The songs don't match up together well. This has all the personality of a K-Tel hits compilation.

I'm really not trying to be mean, but this just isn't inspiring. It's bleed the contracts for the cash. Not a terribly punk thing to do, now is it?

The various artists are Jose Serrano and Antonio "El Agujetas". They were the first winners of a rather unusual competition: to find the best flamenco artists in Spanish prisons. Winners got some cash and reduction in sentence. Imagine a similar contest in the U.S., one where the best rappers went into intrapenitentary competition for cash and sentencing prizes.

It is obvious from the first listen that these are deserving winners. Both sing with passion and intensity. Each had been in prison for almost half his life, and now, as a result of winning this contest, they're out (though under electronic surveillance). A good deal, I think.

This is basic flamenco: guitar, voice and hand claps. The two have very different styles. Serrano has a stunning voice, an amazing range. El Agujetas is more of a guttural singer, but there is such soul in the way he expresses himself. It's easy to hear the pain.

A truly strange contest, but a cool disc. Some fine flamenco. A couple guys get out of jail. What a deal.

The problem with "must-see" show bands is that the music is most often a secondary concern. Such has always been the case with the Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black.

The songs generally do not progress past blatant AC/DC and Kiss rip-offs. The lyrics are calculated jokes, and they often come off flat. To put it mildly, this is not a fun disc to have to sit through.

On the other hand, I'll be at the show in the heartbeat. For the spectacle. And I promise you, there will be one. As arresting as a Gwar, though without such a large reliance on fake body fluids.

Just don't do something stupid like buying the album. There's no need for that. Buy the video instead.

Kinda exactly what you might think. Over-the-top dub work, heavy in the groove. Some guitar and sampling work, but mostly bass, keys and that electronic reggae dub beat. The notes thank everyone from Lee "Scratch" Perry to Bill Laswell. Oh, yeah, and Kraftwerk. Now you get the picture?

Of course, of course. Solid work, too. The grooves do get a bit mindnumbing, but the hypnotic effect is working its magic on me, swinging my brain into the right direction, appreciating the numbness. Letting it wash all over me.

A nice little trip disc. Nothing complicated, mind you, just a little warped. Something to take the edge off the mania and reduce the real world to a distant memory. Okay by me.

Justa kickin' back sorta disc. Plenty of the goods right here. No need to shop elsewhere.

Tightly crafted pop tunes featuring some seriously active rhythm guitar (you know, like that Wedding Present groove?). This is a band which has figured itself out.

The songs, simply put, are great. Top notch work in the writing and performance. Harmonies where they're needed, and lean hooks to compliment the strident guitar. Watts is primed for, well, something.

I mean it. This is good stuff. Pop with an unusual edge. Songs which say something and still entertain. Not an easy balance to maintain, but Watts makes it sound simple. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. I can assure you it's not.

But that's the joy of listening to discs like this. Music which brings life into focus, and with a nice beat, too. Ah, hell, I just love this one to bits. They have to be doing something right.