Extremely mannered, hook-heavy pop stuff. These songs are meticulously written and played, down to the fuzzy keyboards which generally dance around the vocal melodic lines. That element lends a superficial 80s feel to the music. If there had been a new wave guitar pop movement, well, Adventures of Jet would have fit right in.

And the closest thing I can come up with is Squeeze, but AOJ is much more guitar-oriented. Those keyboards, though, they have a definite Difford-Tillbrook lilt. What this really reminds me of is the Gravel Pit, that excellent band from Boston. AOJ leans on the keys a bit more, but the quality is just as high.

What really sets this band apart is the care with which this album was made. I've already mentioned the writing and the playing, but the production puts every piece in the right place. It also allows those cool keys to spring forth at the appropriate times. The hooks pop out of the speakers in resplendent glory.

Really. I'm not getting overly excited over nothing. AOJ is so far ahead of most bands with major deals that I'm simply astonished no one has taken a flyer on the boys as yet. Yeah, there are a lot of hooky pop bands around, but this stuff is really, really fine. Certainly worth scoping out.

You know how the Flat Duo Jets took the raucous approach in fusing anarchic rockabilly and country music? Maybe you don't. Anyway, James Apollo tries to do the same thing from the more contemplative side.

What is similar to FDJ is the loose writing and playing style. Apollo kinda staggers through his songs, not always enunciating clearly or quite reaching the right chord on his guitar. But this is a mostly acoustic affair, and while the drums are recorded with a heavy echo (or with just a couple mikes, more likely), they're laid way back in the mix.

Apollo's singing and guitar-slinging is up front, and why not? These are his songs, and the sly stumble approach is pretty damned effective. This is certainly a unique sound.

I'm not sure that anyone has tried quite this feel before. I'm knocked out, as much by the effect as by its audacity. Apollo has put together a great (if short) set here. I'm guessing the live shows are wonderful.

A little sequencer project. All keyboard and samplers, near as I can tell. In that vague realm that borders on "happy jazz."

And you all know how I feel about that stuff. Well, Cigainero is at least one of the better practicioners of the sound. He throws in enough interesting rhythms and melodies to keep the stuff from getting utterly syrupy.

Still, this isn't the most adventurous fare around. And I don't think it's intended to be at all. This is mood music, I guess, and that's just the way it is.

Certainly not my sound. But I can say that Cigainero does a nice job with a sound that generally makes my skin crawl. Indeed, I got through the whole disc without feeling terribly eepy. That's really saying something, to be honest.

Just about anywhere, kids can get together and crank out some serious angst and anger. Yes, even in Montana.

Coldsnap-9 whips out the breakneck riffage and social commentary, hardly taking a second to breathe. Though there are some humorous intros concerning certain "country" stereotypes. Baa!

Yes, this is kinda faceless. Coldsnap-9 puts all of its energy into speed and caustic lyrics. Nothing you wouldn't expect, but a fine, blistering ride nonetheless. This is, indeed, what punk was always supposed to be: Music that allows just about anyone to release a little pent-up energy.

Just another fuzzy pop three-piece. Digital Blue specializes in crafting a layered sound, sometimes with their instruments and sometimes with some ringers (you know, horns and the like).

Never breaking out of the midtempo, and that's where my main advice would lie. These arrangements aren't gorgeous enough to justify wallowing in them. Pick up the pace, at least once in a while. They guys have some real nice instincts, but at times (particularly in the first track), the followthrough is a bit lacking.

Ah, but enough whining. It was fun to take a dip into Digital Blue's sound. I have the feeling that the band is just beginning to understand what it can do. More experimentation will bring much greater sounds, I'd say.

I'm thinking the title of the EP isn't in Portuguese... Alright, alright. Enough bad jokes. Dipnoi is yer basic hardcore band, sounding a lot more like Victims Family than Sepultura. I know, not every Brazilian band wants to be Sepultura, but I just thought I'd make that clear.

What the guys do quite well is keep a rough groove going. Now, this is a fairly ragged recording, just a notch above demo quality. But hell, the songs aren't subtle anyway. A sharpening of the sound might take a good chunk of the charm away as well.

It's the groove thing that lifts Dipnoi above the pack. They guys can keep a song moving, no matter what. That's a lot harder than you might think. I'm quite impressed.

Vermont's finest? Well, okay then. Drowningman takes that old Glazed Baby extreme sound and gives it one hell of a kick. First, these songs stay in motion at all times. Second, there's some serious tonal complexity to the shit. It's not quite enough to scream out "This fuckin' rocks!" There's plenty of side roads to contemplate as well

Though, of course, it does. Drowningman is a five-piece, and all five members contribute to the maelstromic attack. The songs whirl about some imagines center, sometimes crashing through and sometimes merely causing extreme dizziness.

You know, the four songs here are worth most bands' ten. To say I'm excited about this doesn't even begin to tell the story. This is music of astonishing grace and power. A blistering assault on more senses than I can identify.

Guitar-driven atmospheric fare. Somewhat understated grandiose rock. Or something like that. I'm not doing very well describing this, I'm afraid, and that's too bad. It sounds much better than my powers of description are doing.

Alright, imagine if U2 had gotten into emo instead of just about everything else. The U2 reference is to the grandiose parts. The emo mostly describes the lead guitar. The rhythm section is often rolling and tumbling in slow motion. Sorta apocalyptic if you think about it.

Just a bit too arrogant for my taste, but only barely. I was rather captivated by the band's internal interplay, and the way that the vocals dance in the music is pretty damned good. I don't want to say that this is too cultured for my taste; more like the Elevator Division is always leaning toward, rather than away from, convention.

Still and all, this is solid stuff. The album holds together quite well. Now, if the band really wants to grab major attention, it simply has to make a couple more steps toward "regular" music. Or it could stay where it is and shimmer. Just without mass appeal. Nothing wrong with that.

There's some wonderful lead guitar work here, looping in and out of the ragged, jangly songs. But what really impresses is the impassioned vocal work. I suppose there is a lead singer slot (three women somewhat share those duties), but as the songs build in intensity, the other singers come in for added emphasis.

The result is a wild set of off-kilter harmonies (that's not what they are, but I think that reference conveys the idea best). The vocal work is just stunning. And that's on top of rather inventive music. It's safe to say that Fair Verona owns its sound.

Which is not to say that there are no points of reference. Fair Verona is somewhere in the same land as punk-pop acts like Jawbox and Treepeople. The lines are a bit trippier, though, and the vocals are much more involved. This is some wonderful wailing.

The press note said that this is something of a more "refined" Flying Saucer Attack. I wasn't relishing that prospect. The band's ethereal take on the noise sound is something that I really like.

Well, this IS more refined. The songs are actually songs. The stuff doesn't have to be deciphered. That said, I'll also admit that the band certainly didn't sell out. The noise has drifted to the background, but the adventurous songwriting remains.

Reminds me a bit of Seam, circa 1993 or something. Back when I was too dumb to recognize how cool that stuff was. This is much more "out there," of course, and I suppose it also reminds me of some of the later Old albums. Lots of loops and pieces, melded together into a lush sound.

Change doesn't have to suck. Flying Saucer Attack has gotten a bit more introspective, but the creative fire hasn't dimmed at all. The more I listen, the more I fall into the abyss.

Tim Gagan told me I'd like this one a lot. Man, am I that obvious? I guess so, because this live set really does work for me. The Gagan Bros. kick it along a straight and narrow blues line, something they're awfully good at doing.

Mostly original tunes, with covers of tunes by Willie Dixon, Joe Satriani, John Fogerty and others tossed in to the mix. The Gagans' writing is completmented by such tunes, and all of the songs mesh together quite well.

Sometimes bands can get a little lost in the studio. When you play live, you've got an instant audience, and that can be a mixed blessing. Some folks will pander for applause, while others are able to get a more nuanced reaction, playing what really works for folks. The Gagans are in that second category.

One thing I've never questioned with these folks is the playing. That has always been excellent. I've more questioned the material, but on this set, there's no need. Solid from beginning to end, there's no question this is a great live band.

The Great Glass Elevator is mostly Stephen Zimmerman. It is all atmospheric pop. There is something of a demo quality to the sound, but that adds to the otherworldly feeling the music evokes.

As for the songs themselves, they do wallow in excess. No doubt about it. Think of a lo-fi Plush or something like that. But the construction is basically straightforward, so you can't lose your way too quickly.

Even when the songs kick up a storm, there's a heavy echo effect on things. Part of that is the recording, no doubt, but even if Zimmerman were to get, say, a studio budget, I'd suggest that he find a way to keep that thick quality to his sound. It complements his writing rather well.

Zimmerman is not the most obsessive of one-man bands, so there are numerous playing and editing mistakes throughout. Those tend to lend a charming feel to the songs, though. After a while, the vague clunkiness becomes an attribute. Perfection can be overrated.

Meandering, but ultimately well-crafted pop stuff. Iota Songs doesn't have anywhere to get immediately, but at the end it's apparent a journey has been taken.

Both songs here evolve quite slowly, and there really isn't much of a climax, either. Iota Songs prefers to leave its mark in an understated fashion. Considering the emotional impact of the lyrics, that might be a somewhat unusual trait, but it works here.

Don't get impatient. Let the songs work their spell. It's good to expand the brain every once in a while.

Three tunes, bounding about the various emo forms. "Fragile" is perhaps the most conventional, with its strident guitar line and anthemic chorus. I'm always surprised how that form manages to affect me. Anyway, KBC does it well.

"This End Up" is simply a wonderful power punk pop piece. The energy comes in waves, but it never lets up. Full throttle, all the way. "Ringfinger," which is also slated for KBC's upcoming album, builds slowly off a single lead guitar line, a la Mineral. Again, a somewhat well-worn form, but the band performs admirably.

While the writing is not particularly inventive, Kid Brother Collective sure knows how to sell its songs. Solid, if unspectacular pieces delivered with more than enough panache.

There is something of the novelty to this disc. Four women cranking out modern day metal (think Fear Factory channeled through Earth Crisis). Not particularly well, not particularly badly.

The female vocals do give Kittie a unique feel. But the songs and playing are undistinguished. The recording is a bit mushy, but that's not the thing. I've heard these ideas before, and generally expressed better. Kittie is competent; I always hope for better.

I think a more technical production job would have given the band a better chance to impress. Yeah, they're heavy. No need to overemphasize that with excessively thick sounds. Let Kittie generate its own power. I can't tell from this disc if that's possible.

But I'm not gonna slag 'em too hard. Like I said, Kittie is perfectly fine. Just not innovative or particularly exciting (unless the thought of women playing metal is exciting in itself for you).

Power pop that doesn't rely on the hook to do the job. Rather, the emphasis is on the various rhythms and riffs that underlie each song.

This isn't one of my favorite techniques, though what it does do is increase the importance of the lyrics. And there, Make Lisa Rich comes through. These songs are fairly personal and quite incisive. Irony isn't unknown here.

Which is interesting, because the music is rather straightforward. No underhanded tricks which would imply various implements of sarcasm. Maybe it's that jumble, as much as the riffage, which keeps me uneasy. Though don't take my searching glances as unhappiness.

Indeed, Make Lisa Rich is really stretching the sound. This is hardly typical fare, and it's that fertile feeling that keeps me intrigued. There's plenty here to contemplate.

Is this hardcore or metal? Yes. The Man Scouts have that metallic edge, though the music itself is still closest to hardcore. I get an early Cro-Mags feeling, although I'm a little uneasy with that reference.

What I'm happy to talk about is the pure power of this stuff. No doubts there. The Man Scouts pound out their songs with full attitude and amplitude. The vague tunefulness of the choruses doesn't hurt, either.

A pulsating thrill ride. Categorizing the sound is silly. It either works or it doesn't. And, well, it works for me. I'll be mainlining, thankyouverymuch.

Just the one song. A slow-burning piece, what might have been called doom metal about 10 years ago. Certainly, there is a Paradise Lost or Morbid Angel influence (probably more of the latter). Some nice gothic moments.

A bit overwrought. The song runs seven minutes, and I think I might have spliced some of the gothic soundscape stuff into the riffage (as was done toward the end of the piece). This thing sounds to me like a five-minute song.

Gotta admire the creativity behind this, though. These are trying out some new ideas. Keep working, and they just might succeed.

About as basic as Oldham gets (and that's fairly unadorned). The music is for a short film called Ode (thus the title of the album), and it's all guitar-driven instrumental fare.

Variations on a theme, as a lot of "movie" music is, though just as honestly expressed as the typical Oldham lyric. There isn't any subterfuge in either the writing or playing, just fairly raw emotions.

But not overwrought by any means. Indeed, subtlety rules the day. The film involved is apparently a coming-of-age piece (at least, that's what I'm told), and the music has a quiet sense of discovery about it.

Oldham's not going to win any converts with this one. But for folks who are already entranced by his wry introspection, these pieces will come as happy presents.

Self-important pop music. The kind that backs up its pretentious nature. I like that. Shoot high and follow through. Nothing wrong there.

The hooks are highly anthemic, in that vague grunge kinda way. But the sound is restrained, which keeps the stuff from getting overbearing. Reasonably predictable, but in a good way. Just solid craft, really.

This would be grunge, really, if the producer had used a heavier hand. And I don't think it would have worked as grunge. But then, I don't think much works as grunge. So I'd say Shapeshifter has morphed just enough in the right direction.

Quality stuff. I do wish the guys had worked a bit harder at carving out an original sound, but the writing and playing are solid. I'll let astonishing inspiration come later.

Perhaps the top hardcore band going. I'm saying that in both a commerical and artistic sense. I've seen a ton of Snapcase paraphernalia around the last couple of years, and I really haven't been doing hardcore shows. Probably the only hardcore album of the last couple years that surpasses this is Refused. That band, of course, is no more.

I can't believe I haven't heard anything from these guys in so long. Most of that is my own damned fault for not keeping up, but it's great to hear that Snapcase has progressed immensely from its rather fertile roots.

Power is one thing. Snapcase has that. But the guys are smart enough to leave their sound open, to keep all of the instruments in the mix and not let things get mushy. These guys are all great players; this disc shows that off quite well.

I haven't even mentioned the writing, have I? Well, it's not as inventive as Refused, but no one is. Snapcase winds a complicated groove and then drives it home and then some. Like I said, Snapcase is probably the top hardcore band going these days. This album simply cements that notion.

"Uncle Carl" would be Carl Vreeland, who wrote all the songs here and provides the guitar, vocals and more. The music falls into an unusual lounge/blues sorta style, with more than a few jazz flourishes.

The focus, as you might imagine, is on Vreeland's vocals and guitar work. The lyrics are wry and rather personal, with each song being presented as something of a short story or window on a life.

The playing, both Vreeland's and his mates', is exemplary. Not showy but expressive. That's where the blues tradition really seems to take over. While some of the songs are written in a fairly technical jazz style, the playing smooths out some of those tight corners, giving more entrances to the songs.

A nice album for simply chillin'. Nothing earth-shaking, just a few nice grooves and tasty lines. Gotte like that.

I reviewed a similar tape four and a half years ago. Good to know that Clinton Green hasn't been dissuaded in his vision.

I called this stuff lo-fi noodlings back then. That's not right. At least, for this tape it isn't. Noodlings, to be sure, but the reverb involved here is hardly lo-fi. These are long pieces (seven songs just about fill up a 90-minute tape), and they're utterly self-indulgent. No wonder I find them so interesting.

The lesson here is that is you've got an idea, and you like it, go with it. Someone (sometimes even me) will like it. You probably won't make any money, but it is always worth it if your art makes someone happy.

I guess this is more philosophy than review. Well, if you want to explore the outer reaches of reverb guitar songs, you can't do any better than Undecisive God. The price most certainly is right.

Cleopatra did something like this a few years back, and it wasn't really great. But much of that was more industrial, and too many of the folks tried to ape the Floyd. Never good for a tribute.

The 'electronic' referred to in the title fits more the current definition, lots of drum 'n' bass with other subgenres mixed in. Even though the arrangements are rather close to the originals (there aren't any wholesale reworkings), the modern rhythms put a whole new spin on the Floyd.

I'm not the world's biggest fan of the band (don't own a single album, actually), but I know all these songs. In fact, if you know Pink Floyd at all you know these songs. The compilers didn't dig deep into the vault. But then, if you're going to put together a club-ready tribute, you probably shouldn't.

I kinda like this better than I think I should. It is fun, and these renditions put a peppy finish on the pieces. I had a good time. A bit of a surprise that way.

This is unnecessary. Much like the Floyd disc, the arrangements are fairly similar to the originals. Except that here the percussion is rather similar to Reznor's. Which makes sense on one level: NIN is very much a rhythm-driven act. So where can the inspiration come in?

I don't know, because I don't hear it. These are mostly watered-down covers, stuff that sounds suspiciously like factory seconds. There's just nothing here that provides any further insight to the music. And since there isn't that much NIN around to begin with, why not spin one a real disc instead of these leftovers?

Boy, that little warm fuzzy I got with the Floyd thing has entirely disappeared. A lot of this probably comes from the fact that I actually like NIN, I'm sure, but I just couldn't tell you why this puppy exists. These are just run-throughs. There's no original thinking, no reworking going on. Bleah.