Aeraby sounds like it's playing rollicking groove stuff through a prog filter. Actually, there's a lot of late 80s and early 90s alt. rock in here, a grand slinging of chords and somewhat affected female vocals which tends toward the pretentious.

It has to, see, because there's no reason to play like this if you don't have something to say. I do get hints of early 80s Rush as well (and I like that), which certainly fits into the pattern. Really, Aeraby might be best described as a mix between Eleventh Dream Day and that Canadian trio.

But that would be simplifying things, which is never fair. Aeraby has worked real hard to craft this sound, and it's a good one. Certainly, I've never heard anyone go after anything quite like this. The songs are sharp and performed energetically. Quite the listen.

A certain PR guy has been screaming wonderful thing about this disc. His only description (other than things like "the most important hip-hop album of the year," etc.) was "y'know, somewhere on the Wu-Tang tip." Indeed. I've always felt Wu-Tang was always a bit too sloppy, creating a lot of good songs but few great ones. Aesop Rock does a great job with the backing tracks, both the keyboard melodies and the herky-jerky beats. As for the rhyming, well, it comes and goes.

The sloppiness factor is high. And yet, I feel myself leaning toward the opinion of my friend the PR slinger. It's impossible to deny the power of the music. Indeed, even if some of the individual pieces don't quite measure up, the whole is still a colossus of unimaginable strength.

Aesop Rock is one of the few hip hop artists that manages to create innovative beats and top-notch rhymes. The creativity exhibited here is most impressive. Definitely going on.

Gustavo Aguilar is credited with percussion, guitar and voice. That's exactly what can be heard on this disc. Just not exactly in the way folks might expect.

First, percussion means just about anything that can be whacked, from drums and xylophone-related instruments to, say, burbled water. Aguilar is inventive in his use of sound and in the way he puts those sounds together. He's always telling a story, but not in a linear fashion.

He's also great at creating sonic travelogues. Depending on the instruments used, Aguilar evokes thoughts of various locales throughout Latin America and Africa. This just adds more texture and more subtext.

Certainly riding the avant garde, but not in such a way as to be irrelevant. Aguilar's noises are generally coherent and well thought out. Just because he doesn't adhere to a rigid sound structure doesn't mean he can't connect. He does, in some truly surprising ways.

Toe-tappingly tuneful alt. pop, infused with the throbbing bass power of alt. country (I know, few folks choose to steal that particular Uncle Tupelo innovation, but Annussek is smart enough to latch on dizzily). Basically, these songs are irresistible.

And the reason is that Annussek is smart enough to make each one its own piece. He's got a great ear for the hook, but he has enough of a sense of craft to put together each honeyed chorus in a slightly different way. No two riffs are exactly alike, and so each song is a fresh discovery.

Sometimes pretty and sometimes powerful (and often both), Annussek's songs are aided by some sharp playing and singing. His band has a great feel for these pieces, and while Annussek doesn't have the world's greatest voice, the pieces use his vocal flaws to color the songs even more.

A first rate trip through modern pop. Annussek does bring to mind pop masters past and present, but he's got his own thoroughly current vision. That's pretty good, but the simple truth of the disc is that there isn't a bad song on it. Pure joy.

The return of everyone's favorite conceptual emo band. If you still consider the Appleseed Cast a card-carrying emo band these days.

I do. 'Cause there's just no way to define the outer limits of the sound, even if these boys sure do push whatever envelope might exist in the nether regions. It is telling that the liners spend more time discussing the hows of this album rather than the whys. Though any fool would tell me that all you have to do is listen for the whys.

First, the songs shimmer. There's a reflective quality to the sound. And while these boys have always focused on the music end more than the lyrics, this album finds them using vocals more like an instrument than a method of idea conveyance.

So, to sum up, the Appleseed Cast has put together another stunner. These guys are among the most creative and innovative folks around. Period. Emo or no emo. Very few folks could make an album half this good. Once again, I'm left speechless.

Yer usual power trio lineup, except that Atomic Mint plays a folky groove kinda thing. And then there's Brianna Wanlass's powerhouse vocals, which can go from a sing-rap to a wail in no time flat.

Yeah, there are a few too many groove wanks for my taste, but I do like the way the three players interact. This isn't by the book stuff; Atomic Mint works out its songs in full. No question about it.

I'm guessing the live show has a lot of improvisation and the like. I don't know how that would play out, but I can hear hints of it here, and I think these folks have a good feel for each other. There are some nice short side trips here, the sorta thing that can be worked out a bit more live.

If these folks could drop some of the more generic groove bits (such as a reliance on excessive syncopation), they might really come up with an original sound. There are hints of that on a song like the appropriately named "Track Five." The talent is here. It just needs to play out the line a bit longer.

Fairly straightforward emo, with the usual strident riffage and churning climaxes. Benton Falls doesn't vary far from the realm of the expected, but it does do the sound quite well.

But despite the fine playing and well-crafted songs, I began to get a bit itchy. I wanted to hear a little more ... something. I definitely wanted the guys to take a few more chances. This is solid. Can't deny that. Just somewhat undistinguished. Or, more correctly, indistinguishable.

Another Red House production job, and this sounds as solid as anything else coming out of the eastern Kansas casa de emo. No complaints there. Really, I can't find much wrong with this album. I just can't seem to get revved up about it, either.

Ah well. That happens. I will admit that I much prefer experiments gone awry than perfect replicas of masterpieces. Benton Falls doesn't copy any one band in particular, but this disc is a poster child for the generic emo sound. Which will more than suffice for most folks, I know. Just not quite distinctive enough for me.

Acoustic guitars and layer vocals. Butch Berry creates intensely personal songs full of tension and drama. Indeed, each of these songs verges on overkill. And yet, walking the edge, Berry manages to keep from slipping into parody.

Reminds me a bit of some of the Posies' acoustic moments, though the harmonies aren't quite so crafted or tight. Berry keeps a firm hand on the emotional content of his songs, doling out just enough to keep reeling in the listener.

Takes a few minutes to really dig, but once I fell in step with Berry's style, I found myself entranced. It's rather difficult to make this style sound authentic, but Berry has done it. I'm impressed.

Richie Blackmore and Candice Night doing the goth/Celtic/etc. thing. Blackmore plays his guitar as well as ever, and even though some of the medieval stuff is silly (particularly the courtly pomp and circumstance which wanders in once in a while), there is a sense of fun to this disc.

That's really the key here. Even the more pretentious stuff is kinda tossed off, as if Blackmore and Night know they shouldn't try to convince folks that this is earth shattering fare.

The sound is lush, and even somewhat overdone at times. Blackmore's guitar doesn't dominate, even though his acoustic picking is great and certainly should be higher in the mix than keyboards. Still, those keys do add some nice goth overtones.

You've gotta be in the mood for some "swords and sorcery" kinda music to groove on this, but Blackmore is in fine form, and Night's strong but airy voice is perfect for this music. A more than pleasant piffle.

Ahh, I haven't heard any black metal in a long time. And Bloodthrone isn't quite silly enough to qualify, but it's close. Lots of great crashing around and snarled vocals and the like.

This kinda thing, when pushed over the top, really gives me a rush. Bloodthrone doesn't quite get there. Kinda strange, but these guys are more of a mid-tempo death metal band. Not enough of the "crazy" stuff for my taste.

On the other hand, these boys do have a nice feel for riffage. They're not particular, mind you, but they can crank out a solid groove if they're in the mood. And the sound is fairly solid, though hardly overpowering.

Hey, I like the energy. The guys aren't the most adept writers or players, but they sure can wail from time to time. Which is more than I can say for most bands that tend toward the dark side of metal.

After hearing this, I'm kinda at a loss. Brizz plays an industrial form of pop or rap-metal or SoCal party ska or whatever. And I mean that. The guys kinda skip around without landing in any one solid place.

Which is kinda cool. Except that the boys sound like they're trying to be someone else rather than focusing on themselves. Each song does have some sort of spoken intro, which isn't entirely original, but at least it ties the stuff together.

Thing is, none of these songs really jumps out at me. I'm a horrible judge of what the kids will groove on, though, and any of the four songs here could be a decent hit with enough of a push. I just wish there was more there there.

Zé Bruno is a Brazilian percussionist. He doesn't have any intention of being constrained by that description, however. Rather, he uses his skills and instruments to try out a variety of different pop sounds, even ripping through a light, horn-laden cover of "Come Together" which sounds like something that Prince might try.

In general, Bruno sticks to the pop side of things, whether he's pounding his drums with a house beat or simply as color. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn't. His cover of Peter Gabriel's "Mercy Street" is perfectly fine, but he really doesn't add anything. It's pretty much straight from the original.

The sound is good, and generally Bruno's percussion work is nicely balanced with the rest of the music. He's crafted some fine-sounding songs. Even if some of those songs are more interesting than others. And that's how this disc bounces. I think Bruno has the right idea in using his skills to try new things. I do wish that he'd be a bit more ambitious and really push the sounds that he's attacking. No limits if that were to happen.

Thick and chunky power pop, complete with fuzzed out guitar and the occasional bit of organ. Loud and bouncy, just the way it should be.

The Dorks aren't much for subtlety or sensitive subjects. The boys have something of a bludgeon attack, simply obliterating everything in their path. Nice to have yer head pounded out every once in a while.

Most importantly, the hooks are golden. Blissfully messy and almost impossibly heavy. Kinda like if you could create a zeppelin with plutonium. If that makes any damned sense at all.

The sorta album that makes summer fly by that much faster. For that matter, the kinda disc that warms up a chilly winter night. The Dorks keep things simple, and that's simply a recipe for big ol' smiles.

I'll admit it: I looked it up. I've got a pretty good dictionary, and there's no mention of the word "Ezurate" anywhere. No noun, verb (in any form), adjective or adverb. Not even an interjection.

It's easier to define the band. This is black metal, though again without the cheesy keyboards. I like it that way. These boys kick off with the double bass drum attack, add in cascading riffage and howl their way toward the apocalypse. About what any aficionado would expect.

And there are few surprises here. Ezurate doesn't really change its formula from song to song. Rather, each continues at about the same pace and intensity of the previous one. I think they're all in E, though that's just a guess.

As far as adrenaline goes, Ezurate is a great stimulant. But I think I'd rather take these guys in small doses. Easier on my brain that way.

Judging by the intro (an excerpt from Apocalypse Now), I'd say these boys are from Toledo. Along the same lines, the first musical track, "Mississippi King," also gives more than a hint of what's to come.

Thick and heavy blooze boogie. More than a little reminiscent of Mountain. With a bit more punch. In fact, at times, Five Horse Johnson fires all its weapons at once.

The boys absolutely throttle the songs, refusing to leave anything standing at the end. A gorgeous, throbbing mess of a sound, stuff that just keeps churning and churning until it circles the drain and finally drops through.

This what bands like Raging Slab always tried to do, but couldn't sustain a consistent attack. Five Horse Johnson makes sure that the groove is always maintained--not unlike that first Circus of Power album. The power here is just an accelerant, not the main show. And here, the songs reign. Blistering boogie never had it so good.

Very much an emo take on hardcore. I hear it mostly in the guitars, which turn atonal and strident at somewhat surprising times. Also, the overall sound is thin; the mix is sparsely populated. It's an effective use of power.

The songs themselves are constructed on both basic emo and hardcore lines, depending on the individual piece. I think the ones that rely on a hardcore base are a little better, just because introducing emo elements into a simple construct is easier than infusing a lot of intense aggression into a more complicated form.

Like I noted earlier, the sound is great. These guys are trying all sorts of things (witness the Iron Maiden guitar line reference in "In the Wake of Poseidon"), and a wider canvas--in this case, a more spread out mix--helps to give each element room to breathe. It also, to be sure, makes my job a whole lot easier. I can hear everything.

Grade doesn't succeed on every song, but the effort is laudable. And anyway, all of these songs are at the very least interesting. Most of them are awe-inspiring. This is the kinda stuff that takes you by the throat and mind and doesn't let go until it is finished. Gotta love that attitude.

Stoner rock with a southern soul. I'm not saying this trio is actually from the south (I'm pretty sure the boys are from somewheres around Detroit), but there is a certain "down home" feel to some of the fuzzball riffage.

Which isn't to say that Halfway to Gone is above rehashing just about every stoner rock stereotype in the book. These songs are often ponderous (though generally less than four minutes long) with at least as many nods to Black Sabbath as Lynyrd Skynyrd (even on a song subtitled "The Van Zant Shuffle").

The sound is as thick as it needs to be. And then some. Right in line with the profile. Nothing wrong there. I just wish that the songs themselves took a few more chances.

There are so many places that stoner bands haven't explored, even within their own sound. Halfway to Gone, despite the occasional glance askance, didn't fulfill my expectations of something new.

Going back to the 70s. With some new agey musings (in the lyrics, not the music) and gentle rock steady grooves. All put together with some seriously fine craft.

Hank Harris sure does know how to write tight songs. A little too tight, certainly when he's borrowing some of the reggae. Part of reggae's charm is the way it plays with pop song construction, elongating and condensing certain phrases as is necessary to communicate a message in the proper style.

For what he's doing, though, the sound is good. Bright, happy and ultra clean. This really focuses attention on Harris' well-considered songwriting, and that's his strong point.

And indeed, there is much of this album that simply falls into the well-made soft rock category. A little cheesy, but generally not egregiously so. Kinda like Paul Simon and 70s Billy Joel rolled together. The good sides of both. Feel good sides, in any case.

Um, just what the title says. This is Jindra and his guitar, passing on a few musings to the people. Just that simple, really.

His playing is better than his singing, though the stream-of-consciousness lyrics do have echoes outside of their immediate impact. Jindra emotes as much as sings, but lest you think that sounds frightening (or simply annoying), let me be quick to reassure: It works.

With the spotlight turned so intensely on one person and one instrument, the songs really have to work. Mostly, Jindra's songs don't wallow in self-indulgence. Rather, they turn the spotlight back on the listener.

Still and all, you've got to be prepared for a truly intimate experience. This is a window on the brain of one person, and a rather large one at that. I got uncomfortable at times, but that sort of disquieting experience can be most illuminating.

If you can imagine what Motley Crue ought to sound like these days if they had any talent left, well ...

There are plenty of glam metal references, but Johnny Bronco also drops in some fine industrial and experimental pop touches, all wrapped up in a big ol' 'tude.

Still, the guys have a penchant for slowing things down. Not in a "Home Sweet Home" way, but more Styx-like, with those crinkly guitars and keyboards. In fact, the entire sound is most processed. And it works like that. doesn't go down easy, but it sure is tasty nonetheless.

You want me to figure out a market for this stuff? I dunno. It's fun, and the music is nicely complex at times. You gotta be able to turn off yer brain, and yet still leave it nearby. Perhaps the idea is to simply lean back and let the music take over. Sounds like a plan to me.

One of the first bands I've heard to emulate NOFX's recent (past couple of years) more strident guitar sound. Thing is, Kill Your Idols sticks closely to a general hardcore sound rather than prettying things up with melody.

So what I hear is lots of angry songs about screwed up relationships and other pleasantries of life. Nice bits of aggro, but very little here to distinguish the boys from the pack.

Other than the lyric content, which is a bit more "emoish" than most hardcore bands. But while that's kinda interesting, it doesn't really hold me for more than a few seconds. I really do want to hear more from the music.

And that's just not forthcoming. Kill Your Idols crank out some impressive energy, to be sure. But the stuff just gets too generic too fast. The boys need to work on finding their own sound.

Every once in a while, I get an album from someone trying to talk about the American Indian (or Native American, whichever you prefer) experience. Often these folks try to incorporate whatever "native" sounds they have come across, and the whole mess generally comes off as sanctimonious and somewhat artificial.

Eddy Lawrence is dead straightforward with his lyrics. He pulls few punches and generally lays his ideas right on the line. He drops these thoughts into regular rock and roll, stuff that pulls in touches of the blues, reggae, country, tejano and just about everything else that rockers have assimilated over the years.

Bit of an irony there, right? Yeah, and I think it's kinda intentional. After all, Eddy Lawrence uses his given name. He's been assimilated himself. And when he sings of times gone by, of deeds done wrong by the leaders of the U.S. (and the Spanish, and ...), he has a wry, observational tone that highlights the hypocrisy without preaching.

Like I said, Lawrence doesn't shy away from tough subjects or simply wash off the past as "done and gone." But he's able to talk about past injustice without indicting the folks he sees today. And he does it while playing some first class rock and roll. Enjoyable and enlightening.

Perhaps you've deduced that these guys aren't the most serious boys on the planet. Well, perhaps "boys" is a bad term. I've seen the pictures. A couple of these guys look old enough to be my dad (and maybe your grandpa). Well, maybe not that old, but still...

Solid, back-beat driven punk rock. Songs that delve into some of the dumbest corners of the human existence. Which would get annoying, except that the Mad Daddys know exactly what they're doing: They're having fun.

So it's easy to come along for the ride. The thick sound enhances the goofy feel of the album, and the songs just rumble on through the night. It's impossible not to laugh, and I think that's precisely the intention here.

Or, maybe in a subtle twist, the guys are going for "Good n' Stoopit," a most appropriately titled song in the middle of the disc. I dunno. I had fun. That's about all I can ask from something like this.

Five guys, including two drummers, who manage to create what sounds like experimental electronic music while playing "regular" instruments. Which is to say, while there are samples, there isn't a keyboard player. This is all drums, guitar and bass.

The pieces are generally meditative, falling into what folks used to call the ambient genre. Though from time to time the guys feel a need to venture into spacey noise territory. Whatever they're in the mood to do, I suppose.

And that works for me. The songs tend to explore a couple themes at once. Complimentary themes, mind you. This stuff isn't so esoteric as to eschew all connection with reality. There's plenty of solid thought behind the meanderings.

I like that. I like the way these guys use musical lines. I like the way the songs tend to come into and go out of phase from time to time. I like what this stuff does to my head. I guess that's the best part. Always good to get the brain waves focused, one way or another.

So this is actually Rival School's first recording (as opposed to the disc I reviewed recently), and while this is supposedly a "split" EP, both bands played on most of the songs. In fact, the disc doesn't even say which song belongs to which band.

Soaring emo, minimalist even for the genre. A very tight recording of some really well-written songs. The slight production sound really suits the songs, bringing out the best thoughts in them.

The sort of collaborative effort that gives these endeavors a good name. Rival Schools and Onelinedrawing do have a history, and this disc show why. Would that all bands could work together so well.

Boy, if there's a title out there that better describes a band, I haven't seen it. Paganizer is old school death metal, all distorted riffs and vocals, double bass drum pounding and general mayhem. With just enough songwriting to keep the proceedings vaguely coherent.

I don't think I mentioned some ripping lead guitar work. It's there too, though not omnipresent. I could use a little more of it, to be honest. Still, the brutality is fairly constant and rather invigorating. Sometimes the full-speed-ahead approach gets out of hand, but that's really nit-picking.

The sound is a little primitive. I think Paganizer would be better served by a more full mix. These guys don't need a whole lot of space between themselves. Maybe not Incantation heavy, but still, something more along those lines.

Even so, the most important thing here is the songwriting, and these boys know how to crank out some great riffage. The stuff doesn't get old or dull, it just lurches and leaps forward prodigiously. Rather impressive.

Three songs in the style of the Clash--and not the same period of the Clash at that. "So Neat," the title track (if that's what it is), is a bit more ragged. "Classified Info" would fit in better with the more melodic later Clash, and "Hysteria" drops into some of the more experimental stuff from the end of the line.

In general, the songs are solidly written, and they don't ape the Clash so much as evoke the mood. In particular, "Hysteria" helps to define the Partisans on their own terms. It's a first class piece of work.

And the set as a whole is good. I hear lots of potential. The guys just have to work out all the details.

In case you were wondering if Sam Coomes and Janet Weiss had a good track record, well, Touch and Go decided to release this and let you decide for yourself.

Yeah, they do. These songs are decidedly more raw and experimental than the stuff I heard on their most recent album, but the threads are still similar. There's a devotion to a certain pop ideal, no matter how crudely expressed on this collection.

And don't take words such as "crudely" to mean that these songs were just tossed together with a rake and then whacked apart with a meat cleaver. Hardly. It's just that in comparison to the current stuff, these songs will sound rather raw and unrefined.

There's a big part of me that really digs the rough edges, too. Back in 1993 and 1994, Quasi was still way out on the edge, exploring some seriously unusual sonic possibilities. Which is not to say the due has completely returned from that journey. It's just that Quasi has a better idea of where to mine for gold these days.

Solid, rough riffage punctuated by nasal vocals. Kinda like if June Panic fronted an alt-rock band. Does that make any sense?

It does to me. These songs do not take the expected paths, either in terms of riff construction or key changes. Rather, they ramble around in a most endearing fashion. In other words, they're fun to hear.

There's this odd little post-grunge thing running around, and sometimes it even surfaces. Part of that is the primitive production, but part of it is intentional. I like the way these folks write and play. Red #9 does need to be a bit more consistent (sometimes the rambling falls off the page), but with some live work, a lot of that could be worked out. This is a cool set.

Not many bands would add this note to their liners: "If you have our old 'Abort' demo, please send it back." I like that. I don't know if it exhibits a sense of humor, but I found it amusing. As for the tuneage, well ...

Heavy duty grindage, in that mid-career Napalm Death mode. Lots of grunts and growls and some seriously doomy riffage. Not quite the technical precision of Carcass, but tending toward that path from time to time.

A fine set of tunes. Plenty of pain and suffering on this short set, and Reprobation has shown that it can dish out the goods. With aplomb. Maybe a full-length, guys?

A duo of duos, if you will, with some help from studio man Ross Bonadonna as well. Ernesto Diaz-Infante and Chris Forsyth cover the musical performance end, Akio Mokuno and 99 Hooker provide vocals, some warped sax and computer enhancements. Bonadonna covers the post-production re-assembly part.

I'm guessing that the Mokuno and 99 Hooker, Diaz-Infante and Forsyth contributions were somewhat improvised. The studio manipulations are, by definition, not exactly improvisations, but they leave the pieces sounding fresh and vital.

Now, defining a "piece" is a little tricky. There seem to be two main selections, though the first one is divided into six sections. The stuff does all run together unbanded, so I guess there are truly two "songs." You can decide for yourself.

That's not what's important here. What's much more intriguing is the "interplay" between the different elements of the group. While this thing is assembled, it sounds like all the folks were sitting in the same room at the same time, riffing off each other. The creative juices flowed freely here.

Sapien is Vincent Serati. All by himself. Serati is obviously a big fan of early 80s technopop (emphasis on the minimalist German style), though he updates the sound with more rap-like spoken word vocal bits and a more emotionally involved feel.

Still, the stuff takes me back. And in a good way. Serati crafts seductive beats and drops some great keyboard melodies right in. When the music gets really involved, it sounds more than a little like the dark wave techno movement of the mid 90s. Which, of course, had its roots ...

Precisely. There are very few truly new ideas. What you've gotta do is use the past to make good music today. Serati has chosen a somewhat esoteric set of predecessors, but he sure knows how to make the stuff shine.

First rate fare. There are a thousand legit reasons to make fun of techno, from idiotic, incessant repetition to moronic melodies and more. Sapien doesn't fall into any of the traps. Instead, this disc shines from within with its own light.

Atmospheric prog. Sorta. The main players are on bass and keys, and those are the instruments which dominate. Gina Gonzalez's vocals add a nice, lush touch to the songs.

Indeed, the sound here is so thick you could fall into it for days. I really hesitated calling this prog at all, because the song constructions are fairly basic. But the playing is rather intricate and I think that's what Signing Einstein was going for, anyways.

It's an odd sound, the sort of grandiose operatic style that generally appeals to prog and hard rock fans. But Signing Einstein rarely gets particularly loud, though the guest lead guitars do shred now and again. The songs don't have big ups and downs, but mostly ebb and flow instead.

And I suppose if I have a big complaint that's it. I want to hear less detachment and more intensity. These songs could have more power than they do without sacrificing any of the mood. Still, the feel here is good. There's plenty to like.

Mostly Layng Martine III, who I last heard on his self-released Corporal Blossom project. He's still hacking out the beats and pieces, creating some of the grooviest and most enchanting electronic compositions around. He got plenty of help from co-producer David Schools and guests such as Pete Droge, Lori Carson, Eric McFadden. Plenty more where they came from

What I liked about Martine's work then and now is the way he's able to create an organic sound in his constructions. He actually seems to conceive his works on guitar (sure sounds like it) and then figures out a way to put it all together electronically.

I dunno. When you think about it, that's a pretty damned good way to use technology. You know, make it work for you. Don't let it dictate terms. Definitely don't let it write songs for you. Martine keeps a firm hand on his songs. They turn out exactly the way he wants.

And that happens to be in a way that I, too, like very much. This laid-back, twangy shuffle recalls the fine work of Greg Garing, though Martine lets the music do the talking without adding in vocals. The large number of collaborators simply adds to the texture of the sound. Martine and Schools (and whoever else is officially Slang) have really outdone themselves here. Just beautiful stuff.

There's been a recent movement within the extreme hardcore sound toward more technical and experimental expression. Geeks like me who dig loud, abstract sound have been, you know, pretty much overjoyed. So it should surprise no one that I find Stretch Armstrong thoughtful, blistering attack most glorious.

Somewhere between Fudge Tunnel and the Refused (still the gold standard of this kinda stuff), these boys churn out stuff that's alternately sludgy, violent and shimmering. There are melodies. There are tight rhythms (and even the occasional polyrhythm). There are incisive and biting lyrics. One of those "total package" deals.

And let's not forget a sense of humor. These are generally songs of rage and anger (that whole "revolution" thing), but every once in a while comes a wry aside that makes me smile. Never take yourself too seriously.

These boys stuck their necks out a long way, and it paid off big. This ambitious album comes through on nearly every level. Stretch Armstrong has laid its name among the very greats in extreme hardcore. Now let's see if it can keep up the pressure.

I've always got a soft spot in my heart for midwestern bands, having gone to school at Missouri. A lot of the best stuff we heard in clubs was from central Oklahoma. Bands like the Chainsaw Kittens and Flaming Lips. Good stuff. For some reason, Oklahoma bands always seemed to have a real fascination with fireworks.

I don't know if 12 Pearls lights up its shows with pyrotechnics, but the sound is basic rock and roll, much in the same vein as the Kittens (without the transvestite lead singer) There's nothing terribly unusual about what these guys play, but they sure do make the stuff sound good.

Just yer basic bar band kinda fare, with a little extra kick. 12 Pearls has gotten a good, raw sound on this disc, which compliments the punchy songs. Just enough of a ragged edge to take the shine off.

There's nothing here that really jumps out at me. This is just a comfortable album, the sorta thing I've heard plenty of times before but am always glad to hear once again. 12 Pearls makes these songs sound good. In the end, that's what matters most.

Free jazz freed up. Five players improvising freely, often without concern for what everyone else is doing. The stuff is always interesting (there are plenty of cool noises about), but I'm just not hearing much interplay.

That's always what I listen for with these improvised albums. If the members work together, no matter how far out they get the sound is still something great. If it's just a collection of people making noise (no matter how cool those noises are), well, I could do that. And I'm hardly a musical artist.

Sometimes, such as on "I Got 'Em for Ya," the band comes together somewhat, and the result is a vaguely coherent piece. But I'm not really looking for cohesive play. I'm just listening for the harmonics (I'm using that word figuratively) caused by two or more players working with each other. That's where the magic comes in.

It does happen here from time to time. But not often enough. I'm all in favor of an ensemble that uses a bari sax on the low end. I think that's one of the coolest instruments around. But intriguing noise isn't enough to make me love an album. I need just a little more.

Ah, yes. Real black metal. Lots of keyboards, cascading lead guitar lines and utterly incomprehensible vocals. Enter the maelstrom and prepare to be engulfed.

The stuff is silly. Even when the lyrics are majestic and the songs roll on well past the five-minute mark. Part of it is that there's only so much a band can do with this sound. Veneficum uses all the tools it has, but it doesn't move much past stuff I heard from Quorthon and Bathory more than a decade ago.

Which is not to say that these guys suck. They do this sound as well as anyone I've heard in quite some time. The playing is sharp, even if the production has left the sound kinda mushy, and I do like the over-the-top excess.

That said, I think they boys need to evolve the sound a little bit. The odd Maidenesque triplet-filled riffage is a nice touch, but it's just enough. Veneficum has the talent and skill (two different things, of course), but it still needs to work on the songwriting a bit. Find some new way to color the sound. Then greatness might be at hand.

Blue collar punk that always seems to be tending toward oi but never quite turns the corner. Just basic Britpunk, though these guys are from SF. And to be clear: The vocals aren't done in a fake accent. I was just referring to the style.

Perfectly enjoyable, if a little forgettable by the end. Punk bar bands are like most bar bands. If they can play the music in a pleasing way, they've done their jobs. The Workin' Stiffs do the job.

And there's not much more to it than that. The sound is even middle-of-the-road for punk. Not too ragged, but not shiny at all, either. Just, you know, basic. A word that seems to have taken over my vocabulary in this review.

Probably because it's the one word that keeps cropping up in my mind. There's nothing fancy about these guys, just like you'd expect from a band called the Workin' Stiffs. Good ol', you know, basic punk rock.