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

The Abstractions are Ernesto Diaz-Infante, Scott R. Looney, Bob Marsh, Jesse Quattro and Rent Romus. If those names mean anything to you, then you've probably got a pretty good idea what's going on here.

Improvisations of the manic kind. With a few more introspective ideas tossed in for good measure. These folks have worked together previously in other combinations, so they know how to play off each other. How to make a true improvisation sing.

Which is not to say that much of this sounds anything like traditional music. Hell, a couple pieces here make regular "free jazz" sound like a minuet. Still, within the chaos there is reason. A plan. Design.

Maybe that's why this sort of sonic exploration appeals to me. Jazz purists abhor the idea of improvisation as brainstorming, but these are talented people spinning ideas. Not every concept works; not every path is followed as long as it should be. That's cool. Kinda like life that way.

All Natural is a throwback. This hip-hop collective focuses its energy on ideas, both lyrical and musical. Great care is taken to make sure that one element doesn't overpower the other.

This disc is actually All Natural's first album, with a couple of new tracks thrown in to make the re-issue a bit more attractive. There's no need for a gimmick, but more music of this caliber is always welcome.

Everything is done simply. There are no beat pyrotechnics, no silly over-the-top rhymes. Just solid storytelling with plenty of ideas at the base. A basic concept, but one that few seem to be able to accomplish with such style.

Substance backs up the style, to be sure. All Natural is one of the groups that is returning hip-hop to its rightful place as a vibrant sound full of vital thought. This is where the All Natural story started. The funny thing is, the stuff still sounds like it was created yesterday... and tomorrow.

Alright, now I'm convinced. That fuzzy, distorted, industrially-psychedelic sound that My Bloody Valentine used on Loveless is definitely on the way back in. Bullets of Orange splashes washes of sound over its lush pop tunes, occasionally deigning to even speed up or slow down the proceedings if that will make for a cooler sound.

The trick is to have good songs to begin with. With a solid base, all sorts of studio tricks can really help to flesh out a sonic painting. Bullets of Orange makes sure to keep the basic songs simple. That way the stuff holds together nicely with all the icing on top.

Man, this is just one gorgeous album. The pop style is reminiscent of the early 70s (think Bacharach), but with plenty of power elements as well. The distortion and reverb and all the other studio additions simply make these tunes that much more dreamy.

And dreams are what Bullets of Orange are all about. These songs don't exist in the real world; just on this album. Don't worry about the apparent paradox. Everything will become clear when you turn up the volume and hit repeat.

Three guys. Drums, bass, guitars (oh, and a little sax and keys thrown in when necessary). Compositions. Not songs. Compositions.

I like it when people push the limits of music like this. And it's not that the Cancer Conspiracy is going where no band has gone before. Plenty of musicians have fused rock, jazz and classical ideas into something cool. These boys take that tradition and run freely.

And so there are prog moments, noise moments, grunge moments, cool moments, bop moments, symphonic moments. You name it, it's probably here.

Oh, yeah, this is a rock album. Let's not make any bones about that. The Cancer Conspiracy is a rock band, after all. There's just a whole lotta stuff goin' on within that whole "rock" thing. That's what the greats do, after all.

Jaunty, tightly-played pop. There is a hint of emo in the vaguely strident rhythm guitar work, but only a hint. Of course, I'm speaking musically. In terms of content, Cold Memory prefers to take on the big subjects from the outside in. Personal glimpses that attempt to answer some big questions.

And stylishly done that way, too. These songs are pretty, in a stark fashion. There's nothing extraneous to the arrangements here. No studio enhancements to add a little color. What you hear is what you get.

It's enough. I think these songs are a bit too complicated to really punch up. Better to leave them as they are where they can explain themselves. Where they can do their best job of throttling the listener.

Oh yeah, there's plenty of attitude. Cold Memory plays with white-hot intensity, even when the songs take the mood down a notch. Just because this stuff is expertly crafted doesn't mean it's stilted. Not at all. The energy of the band almost melted my CD player.

Yes, named after the Howard Hesseman character in This Is Spinal Tap. How clever.

These folks don't try to replicate whatever sort of music the fictional Duke Fame might have propagated. Rather, they play a light, tuneful sort of pop rock. Reminds me of any sort of late 80s alternapop bands.

Which is a good thing, in my book. While these guys aren't as distinctive as they should be, there's something in the sound that catches my ear. An infectious feeling of one kind or another. The little "something" that makes me want to hear an album again.

Don't ask too much of Duke Fame, and you'll be more than pleased. This puppy snuck up on me. It was the last album to make the review cut, but I'm liking it more and more with each listen. More than anything else, that's the sign of a good album.

Blisteringly tuneful pop punk, with those slightly snotty alto female vocals all guys love. Brings back memories of the early 80s, if you know what I mean.

Of course you do. The formula is simple: Basic chords, tight hooks and deliciously ironic lyrics. The Flipsides score on all levels. There's just no area of weakness here.

Okay, so we're not talking about the reinvention of the wheel. I still maintain that crafting tasty pop punk is a skill that most folks don't seem to be able to master. The Flipsides are in the fortunate minority.

Ultimately, the face of a band like this is provided by the singer. Sabrina Stewart has the attitude and pipes (and writing skill) to notch her place in the firmament. If there's a better summer album out there, I haven't heard it.

Slowly churning pop songs that spin and whorl almost effortlessly. There's a lilt to this introspective fare that keeps it from becoming mordantly oppressive. Almost like the depressing lyrics are some sort of inside joke. Or something.

Man, I love stuff that's this intense. The lyrics have layers. That's how cool the writing is. The music is pretty, but in a late autumnal way. Sure, it's nice now, but wait a month or so.

I've been noticing a resurgence in this sort of pop music of late. A trend I like, most definitely. The Green Pajamas are fine practitioners of the sound. An EP like this only makes me want to hear more.

Robert Jacobson plays guitar. Jazz guitar, that is, but not in any specified way. His playing shifts through almost as many styles as his writing does. For example, the first track ("Grounded") works its way through Dixieland, some Coltrane-style post-bop (I'm not particularly adept with jazz labels, I'm afraid) and a couple other styles as well.

That's just for starters. Jacobson wails, and he plays it cool. His basic quartet isn't unlike many rock bands (guitar, drums, organ, double bass), except that the bass here isn't electrified. And he's not afraid to wax rock now and again. On "The Airshow," he adopts a laid back roots-prog sound that would make the Dregs proud.

The production style is fairly flat--that is one area where Jacobson adheres to tradition. His guitar tone also is often almost expressionless in and of itself, allowing Jacobson to show off his skills, rather than those of one effect or another. And while the songs are certainly written with an ear for guitar, the sides here get in plenty of time as well.

Instrumental guitar albums, be they rock, jazz or classical, are often dull. This is because the player in question only knows one way to play. Jacobson can play anything he wants, and he wants to play everything. This album is a fine showcase, and even better, well worth hearing again and again.

Some boys from Sweden with a taste for the grand and epochal. Simple and lean guitar lines are enchanced by truly lush arrangements. Profundity abounds.

It's dreadfully hard to be profound when you aim for it. The best results come from honest hard work and an unsparing ear for honesty. Logh faces the truth unstintingly and then passes on the knowledge to the rest of us.

The lean sound seems so much fuller because of the vibrant recording. The guitars shimmer, the bass is resounding. I have no idea where in Sweden these boys chose to set this album down, but the acoustics are wonderful.

A haunting album that asks more questions than it answers. Which is probably another definition of profundity. Whatever. These boys have it. And that's all I need to know.

Reminds me a lot of the Wrens, both in the somewhat whiny vocals and the willingness to drop just about anything into a pop format. These are pop songs, no matter how clunky or noisy or just plain loud they are. And they're pretty damned good ones, too.

The Lot Six does prefer to bash. Even the less loud pieces here rasp and spit. Doesn't take away from the harsh beauty of the stuff, of course. Just enhances the pleasure.

Not unlike the Pixies before that group got any attention, there's a lot of pure pop potential here that is being distorted by some seriously intense messing about. Of course, for me, anything after Surfer Rosa is a bit dull. Methinks the Lot Six might hold somewhat similar beliefs.

Mega-Mousse features a three-sax attack that sits right out front. Who needs a lead guitar when you've got three reeds on top?

The songs follow a wide variety of song constructions, from traditional jazz to prog to klezmer to some stuff the boys seem to have invented themselves. Sometimes more than one structure invades a single song. Luckily, the players are skillful enough to pull off such a difficult task.

The sound is produced to feature the sax. Round, full and not too high on the treble end. A fine complement to the music itself. Well-conceived and executed.

It's not every band that can remind me of Iceburn and Blue Meanies--in the same song! Mega-Mousse does wind its way around a variety of styles in smashing fashion. Think of these pieces as mountain trails. You never know what you're going to find, and you're always glad you took the hike.

Mr. Lif steps out on his first full-length, and this puppy is just as full of smackin' beats and incisive rhymes as his recent EP. He may be underground for now, but Lif obviously has what it takes to break out.

It's all too easy to try too hard. Life keeps things simple: Solid beat work, tight-yet-shifty rhymin' and a slick package to wrap everything up. The songs tackle everything from crooks in the music industry to crooks on the street to crooks who managed to get elected.

And so, while this may not be as overtly political as the EP, Lif still manages to critique society quite effectively. And he sounds damned good doing it, too. Who says you can't have fun and think at the same time?

Not me. The beats scream party, but Lif makes sure he makes all his points. And then reinforces them without sounding preachy. Take what you want from this; there's always more to discover.

If you need a reason to like Nerf Herder, try this line on for size: "Non-stop no-girl action without you!" Clever pop never sounded so damned good.

I think these boys got picked up too early. Their Arista album was kinda funny, but neither the jokes nor the hooks were complete. They sounded a little half-baked.

But since getting dropped and finding a home at Fat Wreck, these boys have really perfected their style. There's a barrel of laughs here, and the hooks are sweet and tight. If this album got released on a major, well...

Come on, no major label would allow a song like "Jenna Bush Army." It's not particularly offensive or anything; it's just that for some reason the major media outlets don't want to celebrate the First Party Girl. Whatever. It's not like Fat is bush league (sorry about that). My guess is plenty of folks out there are ready for a little bantha fodder.

Two improvisations from guitarist Kinno Yoshiaki. Man, can this guy coax some amazing sounds out of an axe. And turn those sounds into something truly astonishing.

Fifty-plus minutes of guitar noodling never sounded so cool. Yoshiaki really does have a gift for crafting improvisations into coherent works. This isn't some guy screwing around. It's serious business.

Truly fine work. I'm afraid I really can't do justice to the work here. It must be heard to be believed, much less understood. If you care at all about serious guitar playing, this disc is a must.

Something new from these oi boys. Oxymoron plays this stuff straight up, with no additions. Just plenty of attitude and tuneful power.

I guess the theme of this issue has been simple pleasures, and Oxymoron is another. The fun thing about oi is its stripped down nature. There's no pretense and (if done right) plenty of singalong choruses. No disappointment here.

The production is solid, with no holes in the sound. Power, and plenty of it is the tale here. Just as basic as the music.

Sometimes being predictable is a good thing. Oxymoron is an oi band, and it plays great oi. That's the whole story here, and if that's no enough for you, well, too bad.

Some thirty-odd years ago the 13th Floor Elevators roared out of Texas on a psychedelic blues rock spaceship. Roky Erickson is now revered as a saint (albeit a twisted one), but I've always wondered why more bands didn't really try to ply those fertile waters.

Peglegasus does. The lyrics and music are somewhat more coherent, but I'd say the intent is similar. These songs blaze through the same territory, and they shimmer almost as brightly.

In truth, the great thing about this album is the sound. The mix is just a bit muddy, and that goo allows the complex and pretty songs to come together just enough to make sense.

Great guitar-driven pop that takes the best of the Erickson ideal and adds in a few fine modern touches. Peglegasus makes music that sounds way too easy. Most impressive that way.

Andrea Perry writes songs that sound timeless. There's a weird Tin Pan Alley feel to her structure at times, and when that's combined with her jaunty electronic pop style the result is an oddly appealing set of songs.

A lot of the time I'm absolutely convinced a song won't work. Perry has this clunky way of starting songs (not unlike Rob Crow, which is about as far removed from the other things I've mentioned as you can get) that lends a sense of unease to the proceedings. A little suspense, if you will.

That she pulls every song off with aplomb isn't the point. That this stuff sounds gorgeous (the production is sharp, but not sterile) isn't the point. That Perry has one of those immediately endearing voices also isn't the point. All those (and more) are the reason this album is so enchanting.

I think I might have misspoken at the top. There are a few manic moments here that do remind me of Heavy Vegetable and other Crow projects. Certainly, Perry's tendency to complicate songs before she resolves them adds to the resemblance. Whatever. All I can say with certainty is that this album knocks me out.

Quinimine hails from Montreal and is a product of the Mile End (you might recall my decidedly positive reviews of Molasses, another band from the same sorta scene). There are elements of roots, noise, jazz and more. Basically, this stuff is crafted to the extreme, and yet it sounds homey and warm.

As befitting an "art roots" act (I kinda like that label, though I'm sure the band would--rightfully--hate it), Quinimine covers Kurt Weill and an old folk standard along with three original pieces. Each has a distinctive sound that could only come from this band.

Astonishingly beautiful, and even so, still quite approachable. Quinimine isn't art to be appreciated from afar. These songs demand the most intimate sharing imaginable. Prepare to immerse yourself.

Some of the best pop I've ever heard comes from a hardcore base. A long time ago (well, a few years, anyway) there was a band called Ff. The stuff was great. Thirty-Two Frames uses the same buzzsaw approach in crafting its songs, but adds enough melody and the slightest hint of hooks to really sweeten the pot.

When I saw "slightest," I mean it. These songs are raw, ragged and mean. But there's honey at the heart. Not in sentiment, of course, but in the music. Crack that angry flak jacket and there are some wonderful treats inside.

A great adrenaline rush and big smiles to boot. Sometimes life doesn't get any better than this. Six songs don't even begin to do these boys justice.

There's this notion among some folks in the music mainstream that loud music can't actually be good, that simply because a band deals in volume it can't also be thoughtful and creative as well.

Strangely, most of those sorta music critics worship Neil Young (I do too, just so you know), which kinda blows their argument to shreds. A band like Time in Malta does the same thing. Taking the brute strength of hardcore, adding some of the anthemic qualities of grunge and then allowing the mixture to ferment, this trio has crafted one blistering disc.

Good music. Great music. The lyrics are constructed and phrased as a poem might be, and similarly, the music is put together layer by layer (not unlike a symphonic work). The production sound varies from song to song; some pieces are rough and edgy, while others contain round edges and ring like a bell. Even so, the core sound of Time in Malta is never lost.

There's a new Snapcase album coming out this fall. This album rivals anything those boys have done. Coming from me, that's a high compliment. And believe me, Time in Malta has earned every accolade it receives.

I love bands that go for broke. Twinstar starts off this disc at breakneck speed and never lets its foot off the pedal. The songs tumble by one by one, each attempting to paint a picture of a great band doing great things.

I'm not going to argue with that. These songs sound important, as if they ought to be taken seriously. They should. There is greatness here. These songs shake, rattle and shimmer. As often as not, the songs veer in unexpected directions. And yet, by the time they're finished, it's quite apparent that no other course would have been nearly so right.

This is no perfect recording. Tim Hanke is a shaky singer much of the time, but he has the emotion, the sense of timing that sells these songs like no one else could. Likewise, the band hits a few wrong notes now and again. If that's not intentional, it should have been. Perfection isn't interesting. Flaws are what make pop music art. Twinstar know just where to drop in a mistake in order to give a song that extra emotional boost.

Ten years ago--no make that fifteen years ago, I keep forgetting how old I am--this sort of album would have paired well with what Soul Asylum was doing. Some of the best rock music ever recorded. I don't know if Dovetailing will match up with Made to Be Broken or And the Horse They Rode in On in 10 years, but I'll be keeping my ear on it. I'm not kidding. This is one of the great albums of the new millennium. I know, that's not saying a whole lot as of yet. But this puppy does leap to the top of my "Best of 2002" list, and only a truly astonishing effort could knock it from that perch. Brilliant. Wonderful. Amazing, Awesome. Fanfuckingtastic. Use whatever adjective you like. This album smokes.

Neil Hagerty and a few supremely talented friends come together. The result is something that recalls the funkier moments of Royal Trux, I suppose, but with plenty of new elements. Hagerty's voice and guitar don't change a whole lot from project to project, so the quality and interests of his co-conspirators most often tells the tale.

This album is idiosyncratic to the extreme. But I expected that. The sheer oddity of the sounds heard here is standard fare with a Hagerty project. Enough description. I suppose I oughta pass judgment one of these days.

Alright, I dig it. There's a soulful quality to some of these songs that even the most 70s of the Royal Trux efforts couldn't reach. I'm not saying it's sincere soul--Hagerty isn't exactly known for bright-eyed idealism--but it's kinda quirky anyway.

Shit, I'm a sucker for goofy, inventive music. Weird War is nothing if not goofy and inventive. The songs hold together pretty well. That's good enough for me. Like I said, I'm a sucker for this kinda stuff.

Karen sings. Brian plays drums. Nick plays guitar. Simple, right? Well, in a way. But not unlike Bongwater, Yeah Yeah Yeahs play with the entire idea of rock music. "Art Star" is a conceptual masterpiece that still rocks like a motherfucker. Just because this stuff is intelligently written and played doesn't mean it doesn't have a certain visceral appeal.

Really, the stripped down sound is a wonder to behold. There's really nothing to the music, and yet it holds an almost unfathomable power. I can't exactly explain that, but if you hear it you'll know what I'm talking about.

This EP originally appeared on Shifty. A full-length on Touch and Go is due soon. Not soon enough.

Old Friends:

Brain Transplant Live at the Prairie House (Absit Omen)
The very idea of Brain Transplant live is interesting. Any experimental electronic act has its work cut out in a live setting. While not as focused and incendiary as the studio stuff, this short bit of hiss is quite intriguing.

Brave Searching for the Sun (Dark Symphonies)
Churning goth hard rock. Plenty of tasty dark melodies and soaring vocal runs accompanied by striking riffage. Pretty and powerful. Just as good as I was expecting.

Dag Nasty Minority of One (Revelation)
Another "comeback." Another label. Another good album. So what if it's been 10 years since Four on the Floor? Some punks do get better with age.

Hank Harris Fantasyland (self-released)
Electronic pop with slightly dusky vocals. Harris likes to shift gears as often as possible, but his voice provides all the continuity that's necessary. Something of a throwback to when people actually gave a shit about songs, and that is a good thing.

Japonize Elephants 40 Years of Our Family (TZME Productions)
A couple sentences can't begin to describe the madness here. Think orchestral roots music as interpreted by Kurt Weill. And then it gets weird. Lucky for me, weird is where I generally like to be.

The Mighty Mighty Bosstones A Jackknife to a Swan (Side One Dummy)
I haven't paid much attention to the Bosstones lately. I don't know if it was a return to the indie ranks or what, but the quality of stuff here makes me wonder whether I was missing something after all. The best I've heard from these boys since the Taang! days.

World of Tomorrow Global Citizen (Sweet Stuff)
The World of Tomorrow is more horn-oriented than most of Bonnie Kane's projects, and that helps to make these improvisations a bit more varied. Fans will be pleased that these tunes are as depraved as ever.