I'm more impressed with every release I hear from these guys. The hooks get sharper, the riffs find more purchase and the songs just hang together better. This disc is no exception to the rule.

It's like I almost forget how good Alkaline Trio is until I take a listen. Then I'm utterly smoked. A lot of bands are doing the punk power pop thing, but few can match the depth and exuberance found here.

The depth is what really satisfies, too. Sure, the song construction is simplicity itself. But Alkaline Trio feeds so much emotion and thought into its songs, the tunes just about explode. A highly satisfying result, to be sure.

These guys must be heard to be believed. The fare is utterly addictive, and you'd be surprised at how well it stands up to multiple listens. There's a meal and more here.

Nicely grimy power punk pop, with all the requisite sneering and cynical posturing. Unique? Nah. But really, really tasty. The hooks bite the back of the throat, and the criminally sarcastic lyrics bring easy smiles.

In fact, that's my only real beef. American Heartbreak is exceptionally good at this form, but I do wish the boys would depart from the program just a bit. Give me a twist to the sound, a handhold for a special place in my mind.

Really, though, that might not be such a great idea. I'm not sure this stuff goes well with concerted thought. Cynicism doesn't hold up well to scrutiny (stuff never sucks that bad), but man, it's so nice in a blur. And that roadside buzzsaw sound kicks it out ever so nice.

The guys have a song called "Brain Vacation." Even if that's all this is, well, it's a full-tilt roadtrip. Don't stop for the lights. In fact, don't stop at all.

Kinda like a pumped-up version of that old 4AD sound. Wispy vocals falling around restrained, yet pulsating beats. Like a straighter kinda trip-hop, more trip and less hip-hop.

When movie composers want to effect a hip, nighttime groove, they create music like this. You know, a vague sense of foreboding, those not-quite-there female vocals that knock most guys stiff. That sorta thing.

And it is intoxicating. Truly. Bowery Electric sets the mood nicely. But past that, well, there's not much. Of course, plenty of folks will settle for a chill groove. Sometimes, even I do.

But not right now. As often happens, I ask for more. A little more experimentation in the beats and grooves, something more than breathy vocals. Or, really, something in addition to the breathy vocals. This rings just the slightest bit hollow.

Brain Transplant has an upcoming split 7" with Panicsville. That might tell you all you need to know. Also, that's not a picture of a floppy disc as the cover. It is a floppy disc (including the disc itself) as the cover.

So if you're guessing some extraordinarily experimental electronic gibberish, we'll you're on the right track. I wouldn't go so far as to call this incoherent, but it sure does fly in that direction. And my brain, starved as it is for attentions such as this, couldn't be more pleased.

The press notes that there are few recurring rhythms. There's not much recurring anything. Squalls of noise, pieces of melodies and other sorts of sampled stuff abound. There isn't much overt structure, but it sure holds together well nonetheless.

Oh, man, I'm knocked out. I could eat this stuff up all day. I know I'm in the minority here (lab studies have proven that noise like this can sterilize cockroaches), but that's okay. I always like to hear folks out on a limb. It's the best place to be.

It took me quite a while to get a handle on this disc. The tricky thing is the fragile beauty of the songs. They often sound as if they're about to evaporate or simply fall apart, but they never quite do. Instead, the crumbling veneer on top exposes some rather strong underpinnings.

In the case of Brando, the strength is this almost overwhelming adherence to the notion that hooks were made to be bent. These are all pop songs in the strict sense, but they don't fly straight. Those meandering directions provide some nice color by the wayside.

Some of the songs sound unfinished, and many are truly disjointed. This is more of a style than anything else, and perhaps that's what I'm talking about with the whole "fragile beauty" thing.

Pop music that requires a bit of getting used to, really. This isn't easy fare, but the rewards are immense. Let the intensity simmer and sip slowly. There's plenty to go around.

Streamofconsciousness poetry, both musical and lyrical. Kinda like if Neil Young took to a few Palace songs and utilized all the latest machinery, including drum machines.

But not in a Beck way, if that's where you think I'm going. This isn't poppy stuff. There's a rural blues sound to the guitar licks, and the drum machine (when it appears) doesn't get in the way. Rather, it just provides the proper heartbeat.

Vaguely experimental in melody and beat usage, but not overly so. Califone is out to redefine sonic conventions, certainly, but not in such as way as to confuse or overly titillate. This is just simply cool music.

And sometimes, that's all it takes. The creativity in ferment here is astonishing. Way too much to take in with just a whiff.

A couple of pop punk bands do the split album thing. They each cover one of the other's songs and then add seven or eight others.

The Huntingtons are the poppier of the two, almost Queers-like in their bouncy hooks. There is, of course, a strong Ramones feel as well, but not so much as to get annoying. Cheap and easy, sure, but with a nice gooey filling.

Darlington cleans up its act a bit (musically, anyway) with these tunes. There's a tribute to Donna A. of the Donnas, a nod to the Ramones with "Pogo Beach" and then lots more of what Darlington does best. I do wish there was a bit more guitar (that sound is a bit thin), but the songs are as tight as ever.

Perhaps cotton candy isn't filling, but it's sure a load of fun to eat. Likewise, these two bands aren't the most adventurous around, but they sure know how to knock out a hook or few.

Take Jon Schaffer (the main guy behind Iced Earth) on guitars and add in Hansi Kursch of Blind Guardian on vocals. Well, it's fairly involved Euro-metal, of course. Lots of power, lots of melody and more than a few over-the-top wails.

See, though, that's one of my favorite comfort foods. Iced Earth is one of the most creative bands around, and while this album is a bit more restrained than IE, the feel is similar. Certainly it's a fine tonic for those who claim that metal is idiotic music.

Nope, this material is nicely complex, with Schaffer's trademark classical lines. The sound is a bit gauzy at times, but I'm pretty sure that was intentional. It works alright, though I think this fare justifies a cleaner sound.

Plenty good, plenty good. It's been a while since I've heard truly fine Euro-metal. And this more than qualifies.

Divit is plenty rough around the edges, cranking out some loud, if not particularly polished punk rawk.

In fact, that lack of craft is at first charming. It gets a little grating once it becomes obvious that the boys have some troubles finishing songs in one piece. Hey, I'm all for smashing the restraints of convention, but Divit sounds like it wants to be a poppy punk band. It just doesn't know how.

Still, the energy level is good and high. There is a fine intensity which keeps these songs from getting dull. They just don't excite all that much, either.

Emperor Penguin is a band that rather likes to jump around and take chances. Still, Mysterious Pony finds the folks plying a stream similar to its most recent releases. That's not bad; playfully experimental artists are difficult to find and almost impossible to breed in captivity.

This disc is just plain fun. No two ways about it. The beats are pleasantly shaken and stirred, and the sampled and looped melodic elements have just enough of an organic feel. Comfy music, indeed.

I'm always dead solid ready to hear something new from EP, and if the folks keep dishing out groove-laden efforts like this one, my addiction will only intensify. Hearing stuff like this makes me believe in love at first hearing.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Jon loves the Emperor Penguin. Big deal. Well, perhaps not. But if I might, I'd like to give these folks as big a push as possible. Even then, it's not nearly enough.

If this was just a tasty conglomeration of beats and pieces, f.u.z.z. would still knock me out. But there are these raspy, soulful vocals riding the stinky grooves. Woof, what a combo!

So you got yer hip-hop, yer electronic ramblings, yer fuzzy soul--you got all that and then you've got the even greater whole.

That's where f.u.z.z. truly soars. When all of the parts grind against each other real tight, the friction combusts. The songs simply explode from the speakers with incendiary force. There's no way to get out of the field of fire.

Don't question stuff like this, just enjoy the ride. Yeah, there's a thousand ways to analyze every little bit, but why would you want to do that? Too much fun is waiting to be had.

The press states that this is the album that will put Gold Sparkle Band on the map. Well, yeah, it's that good. But what I really want to know is where were these guys in the first place?

Should I mention that this falls into the jazz category. Probably. Charles Waters on reeds (saxophones, etc.) and Roger Ruzow on trumpet set the melodic table, but the soul of the band is cranked out by the criminally mobile rhythm section. Andrew Barker has an expressive (but not overbearing) hand on the drums, and Adam Roberts' bass relentlessly churns the band into action.

Adherents of John Coltrane and Miles Davis, certainly, the Gold Sparkle Band pretty much sticks to that cool/post-bop sound. Of course, those fields are so fertile that they've got plenty of loam left. The guys take chances left and right (the pieces are vaguely composed, it sounds like, with many solos coming as improvisations to tape), and mostly they hit the mark.

In fact, just about everything works out well. These aren't merely talented musicians playing wonderful music. They're also inspired artists making a real statement. I listen in awe.

An "augmented power trio" (which means there are four rather than three members), Last Days of May builds some really astonishing sounds. Each (lengthy) song is a journey, with plenty of peaks and valleys traversed within.

The place is space, I suppose, as the guitars have lots of reverb and echo. The sorta stuff that facilitates frontal lobe motivation. I can dig it.

And, hey, I'm not making fun by saying that. These are meandering pieces, sure, but they have plenty of incisive moments. There's room for introspection and observation within and without the music.

The thing is, you have to think. No two ways about it. Last Days of May does not make background music. This is stimulating fare, the kind of music that encourages critical thinking. No matter how you react, the music wills you to action. Wonderful in that and so many other ways.

Nicely creepy electro-pop. The press references Nick Cave and the Legendary Pink Dots, and I'm not gonna quibble with that. The lyrics are heavy with sarcasm and irony and the melodies are almost delicately deadly.

The band is, for the most part, Julian Tulip, though Single Cell Orchestra and Eric Powell of 16 Volt help out on a couple tracks. Tulip certainly knows what he wants to get out of his sound, and he arrives there with apparent ease.

The stuff is wrenching, despite the sterile electronic sound. In fact, the rather tinny keyboards and slight drum machine almost play into the hands of the rather harsh vocal work. As for the latter, let's just say that Tulip's talent isn't singing. Though he does work what he has extremely well.

The sort of music that kids at college radio still love. I, myself, am still a sucker for overwrought angst and snippy one-liners. Deep? Not particularly. But sharp enough to put a Ginsu to shame.

Marla BB plays the part of a blues chanteuse. She adds all sorts of inflections to the lyrics, but ethereal rather than guttural. It's an interesting idea.

I can't say that it works for me all the time. The music also is a jazzy take on the blues, and all that polish somewhat works against the earthy themes of the songs. This doesn't sound fake or contrived; nothing like that at all. It's just... well, odd, I guess.

That's really the deal. I like my blues down and dirty, and Marla BB just doesn't play there. I dunno. It's quite possible that this sound has some serious commercial potential. I'm just not terribly excited.

Imagine yer basic "indie pop" band. Three chords and a fairly sparse production sound (there's some space between the instruments). The Presidents, etc. Mess America doesn't really cranks out the cutesy lyrics, but the music falls into that arena.

Basic, see? Nothing pretentious about the tuneage or the lyrics, and maybe I was hoping for a bit of bite somewhere. Mess America does a perfectly fine job of playing this stuff, but there's nothing distinguished about it, either.

The lack of bite, in other words. The guys aren't ripping anyone off, and the songwriting follows the book very well. All very competent, but not particularly intriguing. A nice listen.

I need more than that, honestly. Mess America is just a bit too faceless for me. I'd like to hear something that makes me take notice, and that just didn't happen here.

A duo that records the basic tracks with no overdubs or sequencing. There are some guests, and most likely those bits are spliced in. Even so, when you hear the complex interplay between the keyboards and drums, well, it's hard not to be impressed.

If I described this as electro-pop with an eye to jazz, you'd probably get the wrong idea. Connie Grauer and Kim Zick have certainly been influenced by the likes of Frank Zappa, Lionel Hampton (the keyboards almost have a vibes feel to them at times), Sly and the Family Stone and Yaz. At least, I can hear pieces of those artists and many more flitting through.

There's a nice "jam" feel to many of these songs, which were culled from four albums the band released on its own. And even with all of the cool stuff added on later, I'm still taken aback by the basic grooves the band lays down.

Unconventional is just a starting point. There's way too much here to properly discuss in this short period of time. Great fun for those with a sense of adventure.

Boy, the bastard is prolific, ain't he? I get the feeling that he kinda just craps this stuff out. Or, at least, I would get that feeling if I didn't think there was something interesting going on.

Not hyper exciting, mind you. Mortiis is just as enamored of keyboards now as he was with Emperor. The sounds are a bit too artificial to be truly frightening or intriguing. But I do like the way he can string chord progressions together into this martial-style fluff.

Fluff is a good word. Mortiis doesn't have the depth of most things you might find on Cold Meat Industry these days, but he's still got some oomph when it counts.

Some, mind you, not a lot. If you're thinking about delving into the black side of gothic sounds, well, this is a fine place to begin. Just understand that your journey has a long way to go before you rest.

I'm guessing the Arista thing didn't work out. Oh well. The nerdcore boys have returned to their indie roots. Probably where they belong, really.

The "nerd" tag has to do with a lot more than the dork look the guys cultivate. Nerf Herder specializes in pop-punk novelty songs. Tons of pop culture references (where the last album did numbers on Claire Danes and Van Halen, this one immortalizes Courtney Love, Pantera fans and even references Sleestaks) and silly, if amusing lyrics.

In fact, the music sometimes is forced around whatever clever line the boys have written. The hooks do suffer. It's almost like the guys have better ideas than they can execute.

Even so, there's a big wad of laughs here. In 20 years, the lyrics will be incomprehensible, but perhaps pop culture archaeologists will take the time to decode the message. Message? We're all pretty silly. Might as well laugh.

Along the same "hardcore filtered through Slint" sound that folks like Don Caballero do so well, Paul Newman (there is a member of the band by that name, though I think the name refers to the band and not him specifically) makes its mark with a double load (triple on one song) on the bass end.

Yes, one guitar and two basses. The result is a bit of a mush in that low end, but boy, is this stuff anchored! These songs have no where to run.

Which is not to say that they're turgid or at all slow-moving. On the contrary, Paul Newman keeps its songs in action just about all the time. There are moments where the disparate lines blend together for effect, but basically the pieces are allowed to percolate along at a good pace.

I've never quite heard a sound like this. Reminds me a bit of Duotang (the Canadian duo that consists of bass, keyboards and drums), but mostly because of the heavy bass sound. Paul Newman charts its own musical course, and it is one of discovery, to be sure. The intensity never wavers, leading to an album of uncommon brilliance.

Extremely deliberate pieces, generally Phelan and his guitar. There is some minimal accompaniment on many tunes, though, and "Midwest" features both piano and violin.

And that song echoes like a Beethoven symphony next to the rest of the songs. At first, I thought the halting guitar style might have something to do with Phelan's playing ability, but that's not the case. He has chosen this decidedly halting style for a reason.

As might be expected, the production leaves plenty of space between the notes, but when the music gets raucous, there's quite the echo and those holes fill up quickly.

Not an easy sell, at least at first. Phelan's style isn't so austere as you might think, and this album is nicely balanced. Yeah, it takes a bit of getting used to, but after a while the stuff begins to make sense. That's when things really get interesting.

These guys want to find the hooks. The sound is thick, but not too fuzzy. A level above demo quality, but definitely heavy on the low end. That works alright with this poppy fare.

Of course, Josh Sieb and Satellite 66 are looking to be more than just yer basic pop band. There are plenty of asides and side trips along the way to hook heaven, and in some songs, the band never quite gets there.

Probably reminds me most of a lo-tech Brian Jonestown Massacre (yeah, even more primitive than some of the early stuff). Not quite so slavishly Stonish, but more of the Big Star Sister Lovers alternate universe feel. These aren't bad things, of course.

The pieces don't quite fit together. I'm not sure if they're supposed to or if I'm simply supposed to accept this as is. There comes a point where the mess outweighs the benefit derived from the experience. These guys are still on the good side, but it's a tight fit.

As if you were wondering, emo is an international phenomenon. Sinclaire is from Toronto, which isn't as exotic as, say, Zimbabwe, but it's still outside of the U.S.

Sinclaire approaches the sound from the pop side, not afraid to use piano or fairly emotive guitar lines to craft a song. The emo feel kicks in with the hoarse-yet-expressive vocals and some really fine strident rhythm riffage.

I do get the feel that this has been "groomed" somewhat. The edges are refined, and Sinclaire generally errs on the conventional side. Still, there's plenty of fine moments here. I'd be interested to hear if the band heads more in the basher or contemplative direction, or if it continues to straddle the yellow line.

David Steinhart has been making these records with some friends and has been putting them out on his own label for some time now. I sure hope he's doing well with that. Music like this deserves some serious attention.

Yeah, it's that involved, moody college pop stuff that was vaguely popular 10-15 years ago. In fact, if I recall correctly, Steinhart had a regular contract a long time ago as part of the band Pop Art. He's been doing SBH since 1993 or so, and that band simply has never disappointed.

I'm really not exaggerating. Steinhart has a way of bringing a number of complex ideas together into rather catchy tunes. And, of course, the lyrics weave and sting. There was a time a long ways back when I didn't like such things. Now, as you can tell, I adore them.

Like I said, Steinhart and compatriots do this style as well as anyone I've every heard. The sound is somewhat pretentious, but really, any true pophead should find easy access into these pieces. The shimmer never ceases.

I swear to God, just today I was listening to Loveless in my car thinking, "Goddamnit, what was it about this I hated back in 1991?" I still don't have an answer, though obviously I was smart enough to snag a freebie copy from the campus radio station when one showed up.

Anyway, slicing off that tangent, Study of the Lifeless obviously has a jones in the My Bloody Valentine way. The vocals and music drone behind a veil of distortion, though not quite so hidden as MBV.

Not quite so transcendent, either, though to be fair Loveless is one of the great albums of all time (I've really turned around on this, obviously). Study of the Lifeless is merely good. The songs don't quite have the same air of mystery, though they are pretty good.

My only real complaint is that the band doesn't advance the ideas anywhere. This is just a somewhat simplified version of the end of the MBV road. I don't hear much in the way of new thought on the matter. Hey, this is awful pretty, but more like a silk rose than a hothouse flower.

There's this notion that real goth is stuff like Nine Inch Nails, Marilyn Manson or the Cure. Well, the Cure was peripherally on the first dark wave, I guess, but otherwise most mass-appeal artists just take bits and pieces from the real scene.

It's stuff like this, music that is almost utterly unclassifiable that more fits into the real "goth" sound. Though I'm sure Trance to the Sun would cringe at the label. The fusion of electronic sequencing, guitars, dramatic beats and performance art-style vocals is just about impossible to properly describe.

This disc is a world unto itself, spinning tales of an alternate universe and populating that world with some rather unusual musical compositions. Psychedelic? Sure. Dark? Of course. Out there? All the way. By the time the cover of "Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun" rolls past, nothing sounds out of place. Indeed, this album invents its own rules.

So few people even attempt something this ambitious. It's almost silly to compare the musical work here with that of the Mortiis I reviewed earlier, but this puppy has depth that guy can't even imagine. Two people put this together. Amazing. Simply amazing.

Um, talk about high concept. A bunch of punk bands play the songs from the Grease movie soundtrack (along with stuff from the original musical and some of the period pieces also used in the movie).

Almost uniformly sloppy, many of the songs are rendered basically unrecognizable. which is odd, because the basic three-chord style of the songs would seem to fit well with punk. Maybe the bands were having too much fun, maybe the stuff was just too complex for some of the folks.

Can't say, really. This is a reasonably funny idea, and some of the renditions are pretty decent. Not enough, though, to get a big recommendation from me.

Laughs are to be had, but this could have been done better. Fucking up just to fuck up isn't really funny. It's more on the dumb side of things.

Good to hear that the Baltimore pop scene is still surviving. Vulgaria is a fairly polished band, not afraid to change up tempos or even experiment a bit with chord progressions. That bodes well.

The hooks come almost as an afterthought at times. Which might be an underhanded way to get folks to listen to the rest of the songs. That works, by the way. Vulgaria focuses on the entire piece, not just a catchy singalong.

Which leads to songs of uncommon complexity and depth. This is not yer ordinary pop band. There is an ambition to be something more. Exactly what, well, I don't think even the guys themselves know. But this is one hell of a first step.

Quite fine, in that rough-hewn sorta way. I don't think the boys need to sand off many corners. Kurt Deemer needs to keep mining the same territory in his songwriting sojourns, and his mates just need to keep up. Truly something special.

My review of Zeke's first album for Epitaph was one of the few to garner "press clip" attention. My dreadfully eccentric writing style usually precludes inclusion on such lists, but my unabashed (and somewhat obscene) rave was well received. I still listen to that album when I need a pick-me-up.

So when I yanked this disc out of the envelope, I was excited. Zeke produced by Kurt Bloch? Hot damn! Well, that's what I thought.

The songs come just as fast and furious as before (16 tunes in just more than 21 minutes), but there a bit of a hole in the sound. Jack Endino gave the boys a heavier sound for that first disc, and it worked. Bloch gives more of a hardcore production job, and I feel like the bottom needs a bit of boosting.

On the other hand, the songs are just as blistering as before, and it's pretty easy to tap into the adrenal overload. Yeah, this is something of a disappointment. But honestly, my expectations were so high that saying this is really, really fine still somehow falls short. Yeah, they still rock like a motherfucker.