Look in the dictionary under "alternative loud music." You'll find the definition to be Alice Donut. And you are still wondering why? Then take a listen to this album.

While most of you haven't spent a lot of time around me, I can be rather talkative, to the point of excruciating annoyance. So you should understand the rare occurrence of speechlessness. I can't imagine what I can say about this album that will make you play it, except to tell you to listen and then somehow not crank it for weeks on end.

I like most of the albums I review for A & A. A few I listen to pretty often. Then come the classics: My Dying Bride. Young Fresh Fellows. Dead World. Jesus Lizard. Bad Religion. And this one. There really isn't a better expression of why independent labels exist but to release albums like this. I'm sorry I couldn't give the album the review it deserved, but I just don't know how.

Minimalist pop with supremely distorted vocals. These folks had better have a full length on the schedule, because this is fine! The three tracks contained herein smoke in a most serious way. I've got that smiley-tingly feeling all over.

The color scheme reminded me of the My Dying Bride cover art, and the music contained within is also rather inventive. Taking hints from Atheist, Edge of Sanity, Tiamat and others, Atrocity wends through all sorts of influences, from jazz beats to classical themes. Not to mention to occasional mellow passage.

Roadrunner has a one-two punch this issue that no one can match. If Sorrow doesn't hit the spot for you (you're crazy), then this should. Damned creative and all over the death metal landscape, proving this doesn't have to be a bland and stagnant genre.

Oh yeah, these guys are from Europe, which probably helps explain their different musical tacks. While American bands are starting to catch up, the freshest death metal and grindcore continues to be a Common Market product.

Crank that rhythm to the stars! I always react positively to that chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka noise some bands have their guitarist play. You know, where they sorta loosely hold the strings and crunch the pick up and down? Anyway, that excellent sound is used well, and the rest of it is pretty cool, too. Not bad for a Dayton band. Well worth your while.

Four songs, one seven-inch. Butthead combine elements of classic metal with hard core and the blues. Very tasty. I would love to see these guys live. Reminiscent of earlier Suicidal Tendencies, slowed up a little. Better vocals. This should find a home at many cool radio stations.

You know, I remember when D.R.I. was an amusing hardcore outfit who really didn't know where they stood in the musical food chain. Now that they're an amusing metal outfit who still haven't figured out who to munch on, I'm still not sure what I think of them.

This album is not as metal as "Thrash Zone," and the move to Rotten has served them well creatively. This sounds real good, and the lyrics are very good, which is not something you might always expect from these guys.

But this isn't hardcore. And it's not really metal. I hope you folks play this, because it is very interesting and at times real good. It sure is loud. And D.R.I. have achieved legendary status just for hanging as long as they have.

They aren't what they used to be, but they just might be better.

Do you ever get the urge to get together with your friends, get really drunk, crank the amplifiers of all your instruments to heavy distortion and jam? Sure, we all do. But if we did it would sound like shit, because most of us are talentless hacks (which hasn't stopped Garth Brooks yet). But these guys take that approach to their music and blow out an amazing album of eight ear-splitting, mind-numbing, uh, tunes. Obviously with this kind of screaming sludge a tune is not what you find.

A lot like Sugar Shack, I like this album a bunch without really knowing why. The chords are more than simple, the lyrics almost incoherent and the music just a few squeals of heavy feedback. And I keep saying to myself, "Just once more, I swear I need just one more hit." Shit, where's that repeat button when you really need it?

I liked this a lot better when I had it going at 33. At 45 it bears a little too close a resemblance to Soundgarden for my taste. Try it slow, it's really cool. Your sense of reality will be turned inside out.

Long-time Chicago crunge gods return, perhaps to hit the big time, as fellow Second City-ites Ministry make a big splash.

Never mind that the Jesus Lizard has consistently put out music that puts Ministry to shame, or that JL just have a lot more product. This album is just plain fucking incredible.

Yes, you can dance to it, but these folks play real instruments and blaze a trail for only the brave to follow. While many a pundit has wondered if "singer" David Yow really deserves that title, I say "You do better!" And this isn't the Green Room at the Ramada, either. This is, strangely enough, rock and roll!

Too loud for alternative, too weird for metal, JL have been shunted to a far corner for way too long. Play these motherfuckers, goddamnit! Like you've heard ten albums all year that are even this good. So there.

Boy, the liners are pretentious as hell. I was worried that such a greatest hits package would be as overblown as many of King Diamond's later songs. So it is.

But on the other hand, Mercyful Fate had its moments. Back when they were just another Euro-metal band with a demonic fetish, they managed to break from the crowd and attract a following. Now, of course, the King managed to lose my respect when he did that ridiculous gig on the Geraldo special on "Devil music."

As a GH package goes, this hits most of the highlights. There is a lot of filler, too, but savor the gravy.

A bloody mess. Don't get me wrong; this is a lot of fun to listen to, and I really groove on the live-sounding recording. But an incoherent mix of guitars, drums, (maybe) bass and vocals tend to wear on me after a while.

The energy level is extremely high. If you get off on speed and love to crash over the edge, this is the album for you. And, again, I must commend the outstanding production. The album came over my stereo sounding like a great show. I just wish there was a little more variety, that's all.

More of an album to make some cash and reminisce about the good old days than a real reunion, Fuzzy... is still great. Something about pop music that makes you think. I'm not sure why I get so addicted to this, but there must be a reason I'm a dead sucker.

It could be the attitude. From the liners: "So we didn't catch the brass ring and we didn't revolutionize the pop world with our musical prowess, but we enjoyed the hell out of not doing it." I think that is a credo those folks on the independent side of the music industry should live by. Music makes us feel good, and you shouldn't be too label conscious. If it makes you happy, groove. And I'm grooving on this album.

If the liners are not a misprint, this was originally recorded in 1986. I can't find any release notes lying around my place from Relapse, so I'll just assume that either these guys have moved on to better things (the names are familiar, though I cannot place them), or they have reformed and are getting together to record again.

As a 1986 album, this sounds great. Vintage grindcore. It is dated for today, but six years ago this would have been a real forward-reaching album.

The musicianship is first-rate, with everyone taking care to keep things ultra-fast but still in control. This is an E-ticket to slam heaven.

Like God's terrible swift sword, this music just keeps marching on. The only comparison I can make is to a rout in battle. Seance are Sherman cutting a swath across the south. They are Attila cruising across Asia, Alexander sweeping to India.

Not overly fast or obnoxious, Seance still crank out the speed with the best. And, like the other Black Mark album reviewed in this issue, the production is excellent, clear and not muffled. You hear every note, and believe me, you want to.

This fills your senses and drives you to action. If only I could shoot this album up the week of the election and not sleep at all. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to crank it. Some things make me smile.

Sorrow roared out of the gate with their EP earlier this year. And I was looking forward to their full-length release. Justifiably.

You can understand the words here, and it's a good thing. Sorrow are the most lucid and articulate of the doom-death genre. "Illusion of Freedom" details the problems of wrapping yourself in the flag and blindly following the government. Even the requisite anti-religion song is not simply "Jesus had anal lust" or anything as dumb as that. After all, Satanism is a religion just like all others, and Sorrow is out to stop all worship. Seems fair to me, even if I don't happen to agree.

Doom-death creates a hell of a grind, and this album kinda rips away at your sense of security. The unexamined life is not worth living. Sorrow make us examine the very tenets of existence for many people. Damn straight, baby.

The more I hear from this label, the more I like. And the best of their past and present roster are featured here. While there aren't really any rare or special tracks here, this is a great introduction to a label that is just establishing itself on this side of the Atlantic. Much like what Grind Crusher did for Earache and In the Eyes of Death did for Century Media, this sampler should open a few eyes to the great sounds on Peaceville.

Not a completely unknown band, Wench has been around in one form or another since 1987. Before that, a related band went by P.M.S. Everything about this is real slick, but the music is not too bad. As the release notes, it bears a passing relation to Soundgarden, though Yana Chupenko's vocals are rather unique.

Production is good and the aim is definitely at a commercial record deal. Some thing about his bugs me, but I can't put my finger on it.

Oh well, the music isn't bad.

When the Young Fresh Fellows first started gigging in Seattle, the Melvins, Green River and Soundgarden were not even in the garages yet.

Armed with this interesting sense of history and now compelled by BMG lawyers to make a sell-out "yes, we're an ultra-hip Seattle band, too," the YFF instead cruise into an examination of yesteryear. The first tracks sound much like those on Electric Bird Digest, but as the album progresses, the tension releases and some really fine moments appear: Butch Vig sings, the A-Bones guest and most incredibly, Rufus Thomas takes the lead for a song ("Green Green"). Yes, that's Rufus "Walking the Dog" "Do the Funky Chicken" Thomas. If your station doesn't have any of his albums, go out and buy them. They have just been reissued on CD.

I can't really be objective about a YFF album, especially one that is this good. Very few bands could have pulled this thing off, and thankfully they were up to the task. One word of advice: don't overanalyze; enjoy!