Old Friends (short reviews of previously-reviewed artists):

Apparently, Baleen's idea of a normal life is a diverse one. The band refuses to stick to any one style, instead flinging itself headfirst into electronic, pop, rock and vaguely jazzy sounds. When you've got full-time keyboard and sax men, that sorta thing probably comes naturally.

What is consistent is the way that the members play off each other. There's a synergy here, a real band feel that is often missing in true collaborations. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but often "playing together" means compromise. With Baleen, all of its members are focused on the same goal, and that tight gaze keeps the songs aimed in the right direction.

This is an astonishingly crafted album. As the notes say, "all songs written performed recorded lost re-recorded looped cut pasted and finally mixed by baleen." Indeed. I've got a practiced ear for this sort of collage creation, and I can barely hear the edits. The work is top-notch, retaining a forceful live sound.

With so much going on at once, it would have been easy for Baleen to allow its songs to degenerate into a mess of competing ideas. Instead, all those thoughts coalesce into a solid volume. You haven't heard anything quite like Baleen. And once you hear it, you'll wish you could hear so much more.

Emo's come a long way. Brandtson revels in the strident lead guitar work emblematic of the sound. But it adds rich harmonies and anthemic hooks, creating a grandiose sound that manages to avoid being presumptuous.

The little touches (some sly production work and innovative arranging among them) are what keep Brandtson from sounding bloated. That and the occasional straight-ahead pop punk tune, like "Some Kind of Jet Pilot." Yeah, the guys know how to make those kinda songs sing, too.

Few bands can create a personal and introspective sound and still kick out all the jams. This is an album for playing loud, despite the fact that some of its best qualities are the thoughts expressed in the lyrics.

Some bands just know how to make great music. Brandtson is one of them. No matter what it does, the stuff almost always comes up golden. No clunkers on this disc, certainly.

Following much the same musical path as Brandtson, Breaking Pangaea also plays some great anthemic emo and power pop punk tunes. But rather than go with the full-on sonic boom production treatment, these boys stick to a more bare-bones sound.

That works too. Really, I think these two albums prove that just about any production style can fit emo, as long as the underlying songs are well-written. Breaking Pangaea isn't particularly innovative, but the songs are tightly-crafted and solidly played. No complaints in those areas.

Very few complaints, period. This is an album for those who prefer a more "traditional" emo feel. The songs are immediately arresting and contain a good amount of depth as well. There are plenty of reasons for repeat visits.

I do wish the band would develop a bit more of its own character, but that's quibbling, really. These songs are great, and that's really the main thing. As long as the guys keep working hard, the rest will follow.

Just slightly off-kilter pop music. John Brodeur has a vaguely unsteady voice, and he uses that to full effect. His music, too, hits a few blue notes. Most effective in their application, I've got to say.

There's this feeling of subtle, but constant, undercutting. Almost like Brodeur could make gorgeous pop music that would make a listener swoon. But instead he crafts these fractured tunes of love lost and lives gone astray.

I kept waiting for Brodeur to "straighten out." He never does, even though it sounds like such a development is right around the corner. I love that sorta tension. It adds a whole new dimension to the music.

For those of us who see the world from angles gone moderately astray, Brodeur sounds perfect. He sees the silly and sad in proper proportion and expresses them both with a wry wit. Nothing maudlin, just a wink and a warbled smile. You know, kinda like life itself.

Some wonderfully crunchy political punk. Conflict celebrates the violent activist spirit and protests the many iniquities of the industrialized world from the WTO to the British government's reaction to the foot and mouth epidemic. Precisely the spirit of the "A," if you know what I mean.

There are a couple of live bonus tracks to go with the two songs from the single. Both live tracks are heavily reggae influenced, quite the counterpoint to the buzzsaw riffage of the studio tracks. The live sound is, interestingly enough, sometimes better than the studio stuff.

The liners come complete with a manifesto and other fun political musings. In other words, this is a fairly heavy package for just a single. But there it is. And it screams most beautifully.

Soaring, crunchy emo. Dewey Defeats Truman shouts out its ideas, but never fails to back them up with some strong melodies. These songs sometimes sound streamofconsciousness, but in fact the arrangements are quite tightly wound up.

And sounding loose when the reality is anything but is a talent that few bands can accomplish. At first, I thought the ideas within the pieces hadn't been fully developed. And then I realized that I'd been led by the hand through the whole logic proof. The writing is that subtle and that strong. These six songs pass by much too quickly for me. Time to hit repeat.

So, Jason Newsted: You've just been fired from Metallica. What do you do next?

Pull a Foo Fighters, that's what. Newsted has assembled a three-piece band for the purpose of playing 70s-inflected power pop-rock. And it shouldn't surprise anyone that the stuff is really good.

Newsted has always been interested in more than basic loud music. After his annointment as a metal-god-in-training, he convinced Metal Blade records to sign and record Thought Industry, one of the great underappreciated bands of all time. And he brings that ear for the unusual to Echobrain. The songs here stray from the margins most of the time, but they always return home.

Jim Martin (once of Faith No More) and Kirk Hammett (um, you know) guest, but the star of the show here is Echobrain itself. These songs build from basic rock sounds into immediately arresting sonic sculptures. There is a prog influence, but it's so subtle I almost didn't catch it. These songs are so catchy that the band's technical prowess almost goes unnoticed.

More than anything, Echobrain is fun. Yeah, there are some serious ideas and some loud rockers, but these guys enjoy playing with each other. There's no need to prove anything to anyone. And so the guys just get up and play. Echobrain may get some initial pub due to Newsted, but the songs are the stars. They merit all the praise. Merited praise at that.

Some folks won't let the Jesus Lizard rest in peace. Thank God. Every once in a while I crave some serious intensely rhythmic noise. And about that time is when something like Fiesel comes along.

Much like Kepone, Fiesel doesn't much care whether or not vocals are part of the mix. When used, they serve merely as another conduit by which the general cacophony is spread. You know, as particularly enthralling screeches and shouts and such.

Every song revolves around a rhythmic core. Oh, there are tangents to be followed (after all, this sound is a descendant of Slint, among many others), but even the byways are rigidly controlled. Spontaneous sounding, surely, but still welded tightly to the fuselage. This short taste simply makes me ravenous for more.

There are people who know how to make music that appeals to a wide audience. This stuff is usually loud and dull (this can refer to pop, country, hip hop, hard rock, whatever; it's all loud and dull). There are those who make music that appeals to folks who like anything they've never heard before. This stuff is usually so weird that it appeals to an audience of about 50 (generally me among them). Then there are those who can make commercial-sounding music in utterly creative ways. These are folks who have the potential to create change in the great rock and roll canon. Sarah Fimm has that chance.

She sticks close enough to that whole Alanis "intense young woman" sound that regular folks won't be turned off. But Fimm is more intense and her music is much more complex than yer average angst-ridden waif. She weaves her tricky tales in such a way that her experiments sound mainstream. There's a word for this, and it begins with a "g."

Fimm's sound isn't revolutionary, but the way she drops in so many ideas and references into (generally) the sort of sound that a ton of people can handle is amazing. Average listeners will think that her genius is just in the ideas. That's just half. The other is the way she makes those ideas palatable for the masses. And that second part is what impresses me most.

Oh yeah, the music is gorgeously appointed and professionally produced. This disc is ready for the world. And Fimm is likely someone you're going to be hearing a lot from in the near future. There's just too much talent here to ignore.

The Delta 72 finally refined its own soulful rock and roll with its last album. The Gadjits get it right.

Think late 60s. Complete with Hammond and Rhodes organs and wailing backup vocals. All done with the tempos pushed and the energy pinning the levels. Just enough distortion to get the point across.

Joy. In a word. Brandon and Zach Philips lead the Gadjits and write all the songs. They have a real feel for this material. There is no wasted motion in any part of these pieces. Rather, the stuff is wound up tighter than the cables supporting the Golden Gate bridge. And it hums.

You might think that this sound would call for a loosey-goosey feel. I've never heard it done well that way. The Gadjits infuse plenty of emotion into these finely-crafted songs, but the band never drops its eyes from the prize. Good music, after all, is hard work. And here, the work paid off.

Three pieces of grandiose goth rock candy. Painted up very prettily, of course. These songs shimmer and throb. Takes me back to the late 80s. Which, I figure, is somewhat the intent.

There's nothing particularly original about these songs, but Garden of Dreams has arranged and played them so well that they impress me nonetheless. Few bands are able to play this kinda stuff without sounding overly morose or chipper. These songs ride the line very well.

Knocked me out, I must say. Three songs aren't enough to fully judge the band, but based on what I hear here, Garden of Dreams is more than worth hearing quite a bit more of, as soon as possible.

Judith goes back a bit further into the bag than Garden of Dreams, incorporating a few new wave ideals into its goth pop sound. The vocals sound almost as if their track has been altered, sometimes sped up and sometimes slowed down for maximum spooky effect. This could also be in the singing, and if that's the case I'm impressed even more.

There are also a few minimalist electronic elements to the sound, and in general Judith plays a very restrained version of the goth style. Very little here is over the top. Everything is well-proportioned, but nothing goes crazy.

These songs are moody. But because the production avoided being heavy handed and excessive, that's alright. The music and lyrics sell the mood quite well. Well-conceived and executed.

This is the sort of sound to bring old-line goth music up into the new century. Judith's use of new ideas works very well. Once you fall under the spell of this disc, it'll be awfully hard to escape.

For many folks, the term "indie rock" not only describes a particular sound, but it also evokes a time and place. Like most of the people who prefer to use that term as opposed to "alternative" or whatever might be in vogue today, I identify that sound with high school and college. I'm guessing most of my readers who are in their 30s (and early 40s) probably feel the same way.

Which begs the question: If a band such as Kumquat replicates this sound so well, does that make this nostalgia music? God forbid! Except that I think this just might qualify for my own preferred form of "oldies."

Kumquat plays that blistering kinda stuff. Creaky vocals. A relatively spartan sound. Sorta like if early Husker Du met up with Eleventh Dream Day. And played lotsa bangers. Like we all used to like, remember?

I think this probably does have to qualify as some sort of baby-buster nostalgia sound, but fuckit. I like it. And Kumquat does one hell of a job of bringing a 15-year-old sound up to date without really modernizing it. Play it loud. Of course.

As most folks know, Honest Don's is the poppier side of Fat Wreck Chords. I'm not sure of the exact connection (and I'm not enough of a journalist to actually ask), but what the hell. I say that to explain that Limp is a band that would fit in well with Fat Wreck, except for these great keyboards, which kinda pop the songs out just a bit too much for some punk types.

Thing is, the band's pop instincts are astonishingly good. The hooks drip honey and have enough of a punch to really entice a wide range of folks. This is power punk pop at its finest.

Just a soaring sound here. It's impossible for me to do anything but bob along with the flow. There is some nice riffage (heavy at times) for those who want a guitar to hold on to, but I'll take the sugar any day.

And Limp deals out sweetness by the cupful. There's enough of an undercurrent to make repeat visits worthwhile, but Limp is pure pleasure from the first note.

Seeing as my formative years came in the 1980s, I have something of a tolerance (okay, an affection) for the AOR pop-rock of that time. You know what I'm talking about: Everything from 38 Special to Night Ranger to Huey Lewis. Etc.

When those bands were good (and they were, sometimes), they played well-crafted rock full of rich hooks and nice guitar work. Miggs has all that, and manages to update the sound as well.

So there are jangle-pop references and even the occasional syncopated back beat. Mostly, though, this is precisely what arena rock is supposed to be: Tuneful, heartfelt and just a little shiny.

I'll admit it: When Night Ranger rolled through town last summer on the Ribfest circuit, I went. I didn't hold up a lighter when the boys lit into "Sister Christian," but I had a good time. A real good time. Miggs does this sound oh-so-well, and these boys even know enough to add a few nice tricks. Very cool.

It's a soundtrack, perhaps, but that's more of a concept than reality. It's kinda funny; the Paper Chase reminds me of early Brainiac. Lots of great melodies obscured by some extraordinary noise. Almost irresistible, really.

For a guy like me, anyway. John Congleton and friends bash and crash their way through these distorted anthems, studiously avoiding any possible moments of beauty and thus creating a certain level of gorgeous sound nonetheless.

The band insists this album must be listened to in its entirety to be properly appreciated. Lyrically, I can see the point. But each song is impressive in its own right, and the pieces do stand alone just fine. These works have the superficial trappings of tossed off bits of nonsense, but underneath lies the heart of a pop genius.

That's what I hear. These songs are rich, dramatic and involving. They soar into the stratosphere despite flying with clipped wings. I can't tell you how the band managed that trick. I can only tell you it did. Put this puppy on, give it a couple minutes and you'll be entranced just like me.

Jim Roll's voice sounds just a wee bit like Jay Farrar's. He's got some vaguely famous writer friends (Rick Moody and Denis Johnson) who like to write lyrics for his melodies. And while he's obviously well-educated in the ways of Americana roots music, he has no need to stick to tradition.

Alright, then. One song Roll will do a little picking. On the next he might dig deep into the bag of electronic gadgetry. On another he might go all out with a full band (and then some) sound. And yet all of it holds together just fine, thank you.

It's one thing to trample all over the past. But Roll respects his predecessors by taking older ideas and incorporating them into a fully modern sound. He does what every great artist has done: Assimilate and advance. And so while it's true that you could put him smack dab in the middle of the whole "alt. country" scene, Roll's music is hard to pin down that way. He simply does too much.

Well, too much to tie him to a genre label, anyway. As music goes, Roll does just right. He's man who knows how to make great music, period. Those instincts have been translated on this disc into some stunning fare, indeed.

Just a rock and roll band from, um, Connecticut. You know, in the tradition of all those great Connecticut bands like, um, well give a minute. Or don't. I can't think of any right off the top of my head.

But the Screwdrivers are great. The band has a basic sound, nothing complicated. There are a few experiments, I guess, but even those aren't complicated. Just proves that these guys have learned the first lesson: Get the simple stuff down first.

Make it sound good, too. And that's where the Screwdrivers shine. If the hooks weren't so raggedly beautiful, if the riffage wasn't so energetic, well, perhaps this stuff wouldn't impress me nearly as much. But, see, this here disc is full of music done right.

And it doesn't have to be complicated or crazy or intricate or over-the-top. None of that. The Screwdrivers play swift, powerful rock and roll. With some breathers thrown in as change-ups. Just like you've gotta do if you're gonna make a good album. Like this one.

When they say "ensemble" ... Right, so the regular sounds include accordion, upright bass, vibes (and other melodic percussion) cello and pedal steel. The songs are dramatic and dark. Imagine an artier sort of Dirty Three.

Arty, but not ostentatious. Brilliantly played (as would be expected when you've got pals like Ken Vandermark stopping by), both technically and in terms of emotional impact. Most of the pieces evolve slowly, but they immediately draw in a listener. The haunted, yet strong, nature of the melodies just can't be resisted.

And such a full sound to things as well. This album sounds more like a jazz recording--the dynamic range is astonishing. Sure, a lot of that comes from the writing and arranging, but even the smallest sound is captured by the mikes and put in its proper place in the mix. That comes from skill in the booth.

This album sets a mood and then explores it. There are no vocals, but a story is told nonetheless. With a little imagination it's very easy to fall into the world described by Anniversary. Getting out is a little more difficult.

One of the cool things about Britpop is that its fads change so quickly. The Stratford 4 is not a Britpop band, mind you, but it is quite happy to play a range of sounds on this disc.

Most of the stuff is contemplative fare. But then jaunty bits like "All Mistakes Are Mine" trip by. And even within the more restrained songs there are surprises. Is it normal to write a maudlin anthem?

I don't think so, but that's what these folks seem to specialize in doing. Most often, the songs take their time getting to the point--but there is one. There is a reason for the gorgeous, lilting guitar work and offhand vocals and suddenly soaring melodies.

Jetset knows just what college kids like. This disc is just another example of alt. radio bliss. Almost stereotypical, down to the fact that the stuff is so damned good. It's that last part I care about most.

Most of the time, the liner notes describing a particular project are overblown and excessive. They hype the album more than describe it, and the whole thing ends up sounding like a blow job. On this disc, there's a short description on the back. And it says everything I'm going to say a whole lot better. So if what I say intrigues you, just go find this disc and you'll be properly enlightened.

In the Fishtank, of course, is a long-running series of short improvisational encounters between bands. Except this time the Willard Grant Conspiracy and Telefunk rehearsed beforehand. The result isn't so much a wild sound that whipsaws between slammin' electronic beats and acoustic guitars but rather a muted confluence.

The rehearsal allowed the artists time to research and arrange some very old songs (with a couple more modern ringers). The recording sounds almost fragile, which fits the material very well. This disc doesn't have nearly the synergistic improvisational energy of others in the series, but the quality of the collaboration more than makes up for that. Another more than worthy addition to the canon.

Thick, fuzzy and loud. But if you're thinking Variac is some kinda stoner rock outfit, you're way off base. The fuzziness here is relative; the loudness is almost accidental. These songs take their time to develop, hiding just about every element behind an almost opaque wall of distortion.

Kinda like a low-tech version of My Blood Valentine. Well, the songs are written in a completely different manner (spacey is the best way I can describe it), but the use of the sonic scrim is similar.

Beautiful songs, and in saying that I'll emphasize that the writing focuses on beauty. There's nothing harsh to the heavy riffage or distortion layer. Sure, this stuff is very loud, but it's so damned pretty it'll shock you.

I like it when bands play with expectations like that. I also like it when a band puts a new spin on a solid idea. Variac is a lot more subtle than most Detroit bands, more like Morsel in that way. Dead solid, in any case.

Old Friends:

The Lawrence Arms Apathy and Exhaustion (Fat Wreck Chords)
The current kings of Chicago power punk pop, the Lawrence Arms pound out blistering hooks and fuzzy riffage. These boys know that this sound can get too clean, so they make sure to stay just messy enough for bliss.