The thing about power pop is that the songs are usually short. The compilation Three Minute Revolution got that name for a reason. Three of the four songs here clock in at longer than four minutes. And Alkaline Trio is good enough to carry that off.

Just a bit of the emo stridency, but really no more than a hint. Nope, these are just shimmering pop pieces that take a little longer to evolve. Not moody by any stretch of the imagination, simply a bit more complex.

And as usual, complexity doesn't ruin the stew. Alkaline Trio has impressed me once more. That certainly came as no surprise.

In case you missed it, Anthrax released its eighth album last year. I sure didn't hear anything about it, and not so long ago I was a monster fan. Anyway, this collects bits and pieces from the band's history, like any greatest hits sorta thing.

Anthrax is the kind of band that inspires its fans to own all of its records, making albms like this somewhat irrelevant. Even so, there are some don't miss tracks here for the general fan: The reworking of "Bring the Noise" with Chuck D. and Flavor Flav, "I'm the Man" (for better and worse the band's signature piece), "I Am the Law" and "Indians."

There are a couple of hard-to-find songs here, the most notable a cover of "Ball of Confusion" with both John Bush and Joey Belladonna on vocals and Dan Lilker on bass. But only one song from Persistence of Time, and that one the cover of "Got the Time" ? See, this is why you have to own the albums.

Anthrax is probably the greatest metal band from the 80s that never quite made it over the top. I'm pretty sure the guys have never sold a million copies of any single album (or if so, just barely). They're just hard-working boys who have left a fairly impressive legacy. Dig out those old albums. They're a lot better than you might think.

When emo gets a bit languid, it can start to take on a grand quality. Pretentiousness can creep in at the strangest times. Appleseed Cast just kinda natually imbues its music with an urgent feel, as if this is, indeed, the most important stuff in the universe.

That might be off-putting if it wasn't so good. The lead guitar lines ramble all over the place, often in counterpoint to the vocal melodies. Hell, even the vocals play off of each other, making the lines mesh even more.

Is the music really as important as it sounds? I'd say so. Appleseed Cast certainly weaves some serious magic, throwing out lines and pulling them back full of fish. It is easy to get lost within the intricacies of the songs. And it's between the spaces where the music impresses most.

Pretty damned good. Well, a load better than that, even. Not many can spin a web of music like this, and fewer still can do it so well. I've been snared, but I don't mind a bit.

Well, okay then. I'm thinking you know Blondie. That makes my task a lot easier. This is not archive material, but stuff from the re-formed band's tour this year. The material probably focuses on the new album a bit too much (by a song or two) for most fans, but that's really not the problem.

The mix is heavy in the bass. Too heavy. The keyboards are all mushy as a result, and the band sounds like it's slogging along, even though the tempos are as crisp as they can be. This is not the keepsake live album you might like.

I don't really like live albums much anyway. But the sound here is so horrible that I can feel quite good about dissuading anyone from checking it out. Yeah, I've got an advance CD, and maybe the final mix is better, but what I hear is awful. I can't imagine it going out like this.

Bloom wrote most of the songs here (there are a couple of standards), but both Bloom and Connors played guitar and sang. Bloom's work is at the edge of what might be considered folk, but Connors is quite past the pale. The liners have a nice discussion of this issue, much better than I could give.

The recordings are somewhat crude, but they lend a sense of immediacy to the songs. And these are pieces which could hardly be more intimate. Bloom's approach is so open, it's often frightening. Connors (who also produced these recordings) hangs out on the edges, and when he sneaks in the effect is even more unsettling.

Thirteen of the songs here are taken from five Bloom records in the early 80s (thus the title). Connors also includes a recent Bloom recording for purposes of comparison. The didactic nature of this disc is compelling. It's interesting not only as an artifact of a time and place, but also as a commentary the nature of artistic creativity.

Not yer usual cup of tea, certainly. These are songs well worth revisiting, perhaps even in more depth than possible here. The sound waves sparkle with pain.

Electronic pop music, laying lengthy samples over hip-hop beats and dreamy, lush arrrangements. There is so much here, and the Busy Signals make sure that you can hear every little bit.

It does take a couple minutes to really lurch into the loops, but once there, well, the stuff is entrancing. If you want a sonic reference, think of the Flaming Lips on low, perhaps something of a Stereolab tip. I use those references purposely; the Busy Signals are that good.

Probably what brings it all together is the playful sound. It never bogs down in self-importance or finds itself heading into blind corners. The simply arrangements make the tuneage most catchy.

Sealing the deal are all the nice touched dropped in just under the radar. There's depth here, sounds which reveal themselves on subsequent listens. That's where the quality lies.

A beats and pieces electronic dreamland duo. There's a moody cover of a Magnetic Fields song (yes, even more downbeat than Merritt's original) and a number of different sounds within just six songs.

Cookie Galore can shift from somber to surreal to sublime like it was climbing stairs. There's almost no effort, or, at least, that's what it sounds like. Simply always evolving, always challenging fare.

That's what I like best about this set. There's something different going on at all times, and despite the variety, just about everything works. Cookie Galore has the tools and it has delivered. That should be enough.

I got this CD in an LP sleeve. Sez it's the compact disc version of the double LP. There certainly are enough songs and enough time. And despite the some what whimsical cover, the music is a lot more subdued.

Is that the right word? Dunno. What this isn't is effervescent and silly. The songs have a contemplative bent and the lyrics tend toward the serious. Oh, there's a little sarcasm here and there, but this is more in the grand statements sorta realm.

And it works well enough there. This is fairly strong lyrically. I do wish a little more attention had been paid to the music, but it hasn't been shortchanged too much. Even if the results don't always measure up to the ambition, Daver does fine.

And that's really the deal. This doesn't bowl me over, but it's pretty good. I'm all for ambition. Even when it isn't fully realized, ambition means the artist is working his ass off. That does show.

For those music industry junkies out there, this is a project of long-time Epitaph soldier Jeff Abarta. The band name and album title somewhat help to describe what's here. This is vaguely trippy rock, with plenty of space and prog references.

The songwriting is kinda whimsical, and the playing follows suit. That's a great counterpoint to the general style of things here. Undercuts the national pretentiousness of the sound by fucking around a bit.

Now, I am left with trying to figure out just what the boys are trying to do. Play cool music is my guess, and they do pretty well in that regard. I think the idea is simply to sit back and enjoy.

Why analyze? If it works, it works. Full On is something of a piffle, but a tasty piffle, anyway, You could do a lot worse.

This disc simply confirms my feelings about the first one. This is the obligatory retelling of the Alice in Wonderland story, with the surrealism played up and the satire played down. I mean, when you're spinning a trip groove, why weigh the folks down?

The entire project is much sharper in focus and in execution. The playing hits all the marks, and in so doing loses a bit of the loose style of the first. Not bad, but a bit less original. As for the whole concept, well, again, the band sounds tied down. Instead of using the story as a jumping-off point, the band seems constrained by the limits.

But in all ways this is a more professional effort. I've already mentioned the playing, and the production is likewise much sharper. The mix has the songs simply bounding out of the speakers. All that is great.

But by putting fences around itself, Full On just doesn't come off with the same whimsy and joy. One step forward, and one back. That, however, is an entirely different fable.

Workmanlike lounge pop that never seems to want to jump out of the smoke. But then, all of a sudden, it does, glowing with a transcendent zeal.

Those moments of revelation really spice up the disc, giving it a great flavor. There's this whole chanteuse thing going on (and I'm pretty sure the Blondie references are intentional), but just when I think a rut is forming, the band finds a whole new gear.

Imagine if Debbie Harry fronted the Doors and still played Blondie music. With a decidedly modern bent to the bridges. Well, the Gunga Din is a bit more straightforward than all that, but the sound still evokes some of those sonic memories.

I think it was CMJ that commented on how Jetset bands seem to be exactly what college radio wants to hear. In any case, the Gunga Din is right there as well. None of the label's bands sound anything like the others, but they've all got some little sliver of that which is desirable. This puppy certainly satisfies.

Why not kick an album off with a spoken word piece called "Go Fuck Yourself?" It's a basic sense of charm like that that really keeps this disc on an even level. Hamell on Trial is mostly Ed Hamell, a guy who strongly resembles a bald Danny Aiello.

And he's got that New York attitude as well. That's the charm I was referring to earlier. The vocals often turn into arhythmic rants, and the guitars (particularly the acoustic ones) can careen out of control as well. These are not the songs of a wallflower.

Nope, Hamell on Trial sounds more like "everybody on trial." Ed's pissed, and he's letting loose. Man, this is a wonderfully liberated disc. No-holds-barred, no punches pulled. Everything is on the table. Can I write one more cliche?

Sure, but I won't. The thing is, Hamell on Trial is definitely not cliche. This is earnest anger, delivered with venom. Refreshing and pointed to the end. Definitely cool.

Just another Boston hardcore band. Which, of course, means the boys have been battle-tested. These songs have been played live many times, and In My Eyes has had the opportunity to put the necessary work into writing good stuff. You gotta, to survive there.

It isn't entirely surprising to note, then, that the songs do tend a bit to the generic as well. Hey, I can hear a little Sam Black Church here and a little Gang Green there. With plenty in between.

What I'm missing is a bit more of a contribution from the In My eyes boys themselves. I know, they wrote these songs, and the pieces are more than adequate. Some are extremely solid. But I just don't hear how In My Eyes is different from any other Boston hardcore band.

And yet, I can't slag this too hard. The songs are good, if somewhat toward the middle. And the performances and sound are quite good. A fine debut. I'll just be asking for more next time.

The requisite disc containing b-sides, demos and unreleased tunes from one of the most influential bands of the last 10 years. Do you know how many albums I hear from bands who really, really, want to be the Jesus Lizard? About 50. Every single year in the 1990s. Perhaps that has abated a bit in the last couple of years, but still, this is definitely a sound that has endured.

Do I really need to sell this puppy? It's got a bunch of stuff from one of the great rock and roll bands of the decade. A lot of it you might have if you bothered to buy all the 7"s, but there's ample unreleased material here as well.

Is it worth the cash? Well, if you're a fan of the band it probably is. I mean, it's not like there are many more Jesus Lizard albums to come (I'm sure another live album might be cribbed together, and perhaps some more rarities, though this disc does have 20 tracks--there's no holding back).

If ever a band slouched toward the apocalypse, it was the Jesus Lizard. Now, all that's left is the shouting. And there's a whale load of that.

Inspired by both Ann Trondson's film Automotive and by a friend's car accident, Jindra creates rhythm loops consisting of various sorts of noise and then lays some guitar and other sounds on top.

The crash noises permeate the first part of the disc (it is separated in the listing, as if it were an old-style album), and then the healing begins. The songs explore the depths of shock more than pain on the first part, and on the second they deal more with the everyday tedium of recovery than of some monumental task.

Seductive, really. I've never seen Trondson's film, but this disc did take me back to the movie Crash and how the characters got off on the violence--and the aftermath--of car wrecks. There is something sexy to smoking metal and shattered glass. These pieces explore that strange world.

The art lies not just in the concept but the execution. This is an immaculately crafted album. Each piece expresses a coherent thought, utilizing a wide array of sounds and expounding upon a number of ideas. There is so much room here for rumination, I can hardly begin. Getting lost is just the beginning of the fun.

Oh, it's been a while since I've had such a good taste of hardcore ska. More hardcore flavored by horns and a good helping of skank beats, but see, that's fine with me. The anthems just come naturally to this sound, and the power can't be beat.

Link 80 isn't the most diverse-sounding band in the world. These songs are about riffage first, last and always. The guitars lead the parade, followed by the horns. This sort of construction allows for the power that I mentioned.

Full-tilt adrenaline, with a few asides for the requisite cooling-off periods. Lush sound, the kind of wall that makes this music work so well. Quite the package, truly.

Like I said, Link 80 won't win any awards for innovation. Doesn't matter. Anything that can make the blood move like this has everything that it needs. Better than two pots of coffee.

Not much documentation here, but lots of art. I mean, the liners are entirely visual in nature (no words), and the music follows suit. There are voices, but since everything is sampled and spun into a loop-driven sound, I wouldn't call them vocals.

It would be a mistake to refer to this simply as a "constructed" or "assembled" album, though. Mondii does utilize some basic forms in putting together the songs. It's just the pieces that are so unusual. The rhythms are likely to be composed of melodic sounds, and what serves as melody is often atonal.

This may sound disjointed at first, but it makes so much sense. Mondii is inviting us to listen to music in a slightly different way. After all, rhythm is rhythm, and melody is melody. You've just got to get past a few preconceived notions first.

And allow yourself to tumble head-over-heels into this sound. The ideas are distinct and crystal clear. You've just got to understand the language first. And lessons are definitely not a chore.

Two whole discs of Mötley Crüe live. The first disc is composed of performances in the early and mid 80s (when the band was actually interesting), songs from the first two albums. While Vince Neil seems to have the idea that some of these bits are actually great anthems, Tommy Lee and Mick Mars keep most of the songs moving at breakneck speed. That's good.

Unfortunately, the band got too much of a sense of self-importance and the songs became overly grandiose. What was once a punk band with a metal edge and a sense of style had become a rock icon. And the music started to blow chunks.

Disc two consists of performances in the 90s (with the exception of the first track, "Smokin' in the Boys Room,"), and instead of pushing the tempo the stuff drags even more than the studio versions.

Hey, that first disc could've been released ten or more years ago and actually been a nice document of a scrappy rock band. This two-disc set is just as bloated as the band has become. Not worth the cash.

As contemplative and edgy as you might expect from an alumnus of Rodan and the Sonora Pine (well, she's still doing that second one...). Guitar work dominates (again, no surprise there), but perhaps more interesting is the way O'Neil has pieced her sound together.

Most of what you hear is O'Neil, with a couple guests on each track. So lots of overdubbing, which necessitated a good job of mixing, too.

Boy, does all that work well. The guitar lines are simply amazing. O'Neil's standard form of expression on the instrument is a little off-kilter, but what is so surprising is how well the vaguely odd ideas fuse together into an astonishingly coherent whole. Yes, this is extraordinarily experimental and creative, but the sound is inviting.

Those hoping for a challenge will find it, of course; there is so much beneath the surface here it would take a multitude of listens to get it all down. But I'm simply knocked out by how well O'Neil has put her ideas together. This one is a real charmer.

The wit has grown even more sardonic, and the tunesmithing just a bit sharper. Paxton plays a deceptively mainstream pop game. The music is tightly-wound, the sort of thing the big boys would like. But then come the lyrics and the whole charade comes tumbling down.

Which is how everyone wants it, I think. Sometimes the intent seems more mean than wry, but again, I more than sympathize. I mean, that's kinda how I feel much of the time. Maybe I just identify with this stuff a bit too much. Maybe it's just great.

Probably both. This is the sorta thing you could play at an office party, at least until a line like "If I shoot you would your head hit the ground?" comes along. That's when you break out the big-ass smile.

A tight little three-piece, playing that vaguely clunky punk-pop that three-pieces seem to play these days. Pinehurst Kids scrape all the sheen off the sound, though, and that makes a huge difference. Lo-fi, but oh so bouncy.

The sorta album that is best blasted right out of the speakers. Preferably with a blown woofer, so as to get that extra notch of distortion. 'Cause these Kids don't add much of their own. The sound is dull, but clean.

Dull in that it is not sharp. It certainly fits well with the tuneage. And the rumpus room feel to the songs is infectious. Okay, so sometimes the pieces tend toward the middle of the pack. There's this energy that can't be denied.

The main thing is, while this sort of playing and writing is fairly simply from a technical standpoint, a lot of artists just can't quite get the right spirit going. Pinehurst Kids seem to fall naturally into the feel of the songs. A natural fit, I'd say, and that will overcome most any other obstacle.

Another step in the continuing evolution of emo as documented by Deep Elm. Pop Unknown does incorporate the repetitive, limited-tone guitar style, but there are also plenty of power pop elements here as well. The emo flavor also lends an anthemic cast to the sound, with no complaints from this direction.

A pleasant amalgam of sounds, though Pop Unknown sounds more and more like a Mineral-style emo band as the disc wears on. Those pop outbursts are always welcome, but as the disc wears on they just take on a lesser role.

That's alright. The basic gist of what I'm saying here is that Pop Unknown makes great music. Good writing, good playing and a real nice production job. The just-sharp-enough sound provides the exact edge these guys need.

The songs do the rest. As good as this sounded on first listen, it gets even better on the return tip. Pop Unkown shouldn't be unknown for long. Not with stuff like this, in any case.

I think there's a reason why most groove bands have more than three members. Pope Jane has three good musicians, but the sound is unfulfilled, somewhat incomplete. An extra guitar would really flesh things out.

Danielle Egnew's affected vocals are a bit grating, but really, that's not so hard to get along with after a while. The songs themselves are witty, and the songwriting is good. There just needs to be some kind of counter to the guitar.

The pieces lurch along, and they should be smoother. That's where an additional guitarist would really help. There's just a big hole in the sound.

It's been a while since I've heard something like this with such an obvious flaw. Hey, one more guitar and Pope Jane might have something. At least that way, it's be a lot easier to make a clear judgement.

When it comes to basic punk pop, I don;t think it gets any more basic than what the Pressure is doing. Three chords (two strings, three at the most) and straight up-and-down drumming.

Alex Newport has left the sound strident and spare. The bass is used much more as a rhythm guitar than to fill out the sound, and so the songs are tight, lean things which, well, move fast.

The fast and bouncy style takes a while to get used to, but it is quite invigorating. In fact, as the disc wore on I found myself bouncing about more and more.

There isn't a lot here to exploit. Like I said, this is basic basic, with no accouterments or flourishes. Just straightahead punk written with a pop construction. A withering attack, one that is welcome to me.

I could ask a silly question like why would a band want to imitate Blues Traveler or Hootie and the Blowfish, but then those $$$ flash in front of my eyes. Which still leaves the question itself...

Anyway, that's what Shaker sound like it is trying to do. The songwriting is solid (as far as groove/AOR goes, anyway), and the playing is quite good. These guys have a good grasp on what they're doing. I just kinda wish they were stretching themselves a bit.

'Cause, well, everything is so well done. I mean, I really don't like this sorta music, but Shaker definitely has some skills. It's just that I'm not really in the mood for the stuff. But that's my personal problem.

So there you are. As this sort of band goes, Shaker has all the tools. I just don't really want to hear it. Sometimes I simply cannot overcome my biases. It happens.

I think the song titles have more verbage than the songs themselves. But such is the state of Stormandstress, a band without a hometown or ever regular practice times.

Those who don't know just cannot comprehend without listening. I looked over my review of the band's first album, and it makes about as much sense as crushed Alpha-Bits poetry. The music is somewhat more comprehensible than that, but only barely.

What can be said is that the players are always reacting to what the others are doing. There aren't really tangents so much as lengthy conversations, with plenty of room for exposition. And while the playing may sound chaotic at times, these guys are always, always in full control of what they're doing.

Do I need to mention that Jim O'Rourke produced? I don't think so. This is precisely down his alley: Ultra-creative music without a care for the rest of the world. All I can do is try to hold on.

Another three-piece from Elastic. Unlike the Pressure, Stranger Death 19 fills out its sound pretty well, booming the pop to all corners of the room in a ragged style. The raucous delivery really does wonders for the songs.

Because sometimes those just aren't thought out quite so well as they ought to be. There are some strident guitar lines, but those are usually washed out by waves of distortion and a tendency to get a bit more melodic.

In fact, Stranger Death 19 just can't quite get that emo influence out, no matter how hard it tries. Now, I'm not faulting the boys. It works, and there's no two ways about it. Those understated moments really set off the more rambunctuous parts of the disc quite well.

More than anything else, this is a band in search of its sound. It's often best to work these things out as they go along. With the ferment that is audible here, I'd expect to hear something great from these folks in a couple years.

A vaguely retro-Indian sound. Indian as in the continent, both in some rhythms and the way that some of the acoustic guitars imitate sitars. There is a lush, proto-hippie prog sound, if that makes any sense.

A terribly well-developed sound, too. Sunfur sounds like no other band I've heard before, and that scores a big wad of points with me. Not only is the feel unique, it really works well. The songs roll out slowly and develop into power moments of expression.

Almost grunge-like at the climax, which shouldn't be too surprising since some of the earliest grunge ideas are closely related to the concept of drones. Boy, this stuff just smokes.

Five studio tracks and five live tracks, and honestly, the lilve stuff is almost as impressive sonically as the studio stuff. Only further proof that this band really has a good handle on its sound. This is the complete package. These guys are good to go.

The second in a series of BYO split albums. Swingin' Utters come from the oi side of things, but as the liners correctly note, they've got a bit more going to their sound than that.

The six songs here incorporate a bit more of a conventional pop feel, with plenty of nice (if not exceptionally tight) harmonies. I've been hearing bits and pieces from these guys for a while (my brother reviewed an album they did for Fat Wreck), and this is the most solid I've heard them.

Youth Brigade is the perfect foil. The nicely aggro hardcore tunes (with shouted backing vocals) present another face of punk. And unlike the last thing I heard from the boys, this is newly minted fare. Sounds as good as ever.

I really like the idea behind this series. So far, two great albums. I can only hope that future issues can be so fruitful.

Remember what I said about the Jesus Lizard being an influential band? Well, here's living proof. Theory of Ruin replciates the rumbling, staggering feel of a Jesus Lizard tune and then adds a little bit of its own chaos into the mix.

The trick with this sound is to keep the groove going. Theory of Ruin does a wonderful job, blowing out these throbbing, burning songs with a stylish panache.

Oh, the joy of the noise! There are a lot of similar bands who neglect to keep the bass working with the drums. Not here. And once those are tied nicely together, everything can go to hell and complete the sound. Quite well done.

The only gimmick here is that this sampler is $3, postage paid world wide. That works rather well for me.

I know John's not making a cent on the deal, but here's what you get: 19 songs from the Deep Elm catalog. If you even pretend to give a shit about emo and you haven't scoped out this label before, then by all means plunk down your three bucks. Don't even read the rest of this review.

I don't usually go for the hard sell, but come on. If you are familiar with Deep Elm, then, you too can leave. I mean, there aren't any rarities here or anthing.

Still around? Try this: Camber, Muckafurguson, Walt Mink, Appleseed Cast, Planes Mistaken for Stars... is this helping? Well, I've done what I can.

How's this for enduring underground status? The Violent Femmes' self-titled first album is the only album in history to sell a million copies without appearing on Billboard's Top 200 chart. It was a "classic" by the time I got to college in 1987. Really.

A year ago, the band played a few shows back home. Simple arrangements, basic run-throughs. Nothing fancy. You know, the sound that everyone loved (eventually) the first time around.

And while I've never been the biggest fan of the boys (they've sometimes struck me as too clever by half), I have to admit that this album does the songs some justice. It's goofy. It's fun. And it sounds great.

The Violent Femmes were always a complicated folk band at heart. This disc kinda shows that off very well. Fans would do well to pick this one up. One live album that is vital.