Reminiscent of Hexx or Sadus, Afflicted mixes thrash with quite a few other sounds and come up with some cool aural sculptures. In other words, if you want boring music, go somewhere else.

Sure, it's a challenge, but listening to this album does provide real rewards. No waste of time here.

Once again, I am faced with making my last review of the issue match up to the quality of the release and I find myself unable to perform. Trust me: this is a fine piece of work.

One question: do all these death metal bands misspell their names purposely? (i.e. Cianide, Cemetary, etc.) Are they illiterate? Or are they just unable to spell in English because it's their second (or third) language (which doesn't apply to all bands). I wish somebody would take the folks aside and clear this up. It's really starting to annoy me.

Copy editor shitfit aside, these guys combine traditional death metal with a fine appreciation for doom and classic Euro-metal (see Helloween and Iced Earth). Pretty damn inventive and a lot of fun to listen to. And the riffs! I'd mention something about savoring them with a fine wine, but I don't want all of you out there guzzling Mad Dog or Cisco (shiver).

If they could only spell...

I know, you swear local bias, but I really like these guys. When Barry and Jerry cranked up Faye Records a couple of years ago, little did they imagine they would create a semblance of a Columbia, Mo., "scene." But with two single out from Currer Bell, and this release of the second (and third) Ditch Witch singles, they may just have. Oh, sure, they also have put out 7-inches from St. Louis bands the Boo-Rays and Small Ball Paul (see their review) and K.C.'s the Starkweathers, but all of these bands are well-known and play in Columbia often. Ditch Witch especially have a serious following.

And these songs give good reason. Solid noise rock, with both punk and country leanings. While they are rather hard to describe specifically (other than "fuckin-A!"), they are easy to love. Crank these tunes and smile, knowing you are spreading the love of vinyl across the nation. Not to mention the love of great music.

Friedman, a Megadeth man for the last two albums, must be a little frustrated with the material Dave Mustaine has given him to play. This rather amazing instrumental album has more to say than the contents of all Megadeth albums put together.

He teams up with New Age guru Kitaro for side one, and then lets it a little loose on side two. And while there are many mellow moments, Friedman is a good enough guitarist to make them work. Not just scorching the frets here, he sounds like a human being, giving real emotion. Very nice.

Just as the folks at SubPop are trying to milk the "Seattle sound" for all it's worth (a lucrative prospect for another year, at least), C/Z seems intent upon breaking the myth that all Northwest bands are on some sort of Seconal/PCP cocktail.

The Gits are a great punk outfit that would seem to be a lot more home in San Francisco (judging by the liners they have spent some time there). But happily for us they live in Seattle and recorded for C/Z.

Raw energy. The kind I like to feed off of in times of need. Mia Zapata's vocals kinda remind me of Alice Donut's Sissy Haynes, but the music is much more straightforward.

The production keeps things tight and fast, leaving no time for distraction. Nothing short of amazing.

Those wacky Canadians (Nomeansno, I mean) are at it again. This totally Ramones set of tunes is enough to make anyone jump around and make total fools of themselves. Of course the music is completely derivative! Of course the lyrics are retarded (though awful funny)! Of course you'll love it!

Yes, Tommy, Johnny, Robbie and Kenny (ahem) Hanson come together to celebrate the neato sounds of the late seventies and early eighties that we all still hold near and dear to our hearts.

Quit being so goddamn serious and play this fucker, alright? The band really doesn't exist (under this name, anyway), but you probably played Spinal Tap. It'll bring a smile to the hearts of your listeners. And maybe you, too. Go "Blitzkrieg Hops"! (Don't forget to check out the 7" included inside.)

He can play the guitar, sure. And his instrumental work is as interesting as that field can get, although I would prefer a little less flash and more expression.

Housholder has a great deal of polish and can knock style after style from his axe, which made this rather listenable for me. I usually listen to this kind of stuff when I'm trying to occupy my mind on more serious matters, but I can see actually digging this on other occasions.

Not what you'd expect from the land of Rupp (It's almost basketball season. I can start using those references again). Sure, this is muffled as hell; it sounds like it was recorded on a jam box. But that's part of the charm.

And through the baffle I can hear something very nice: a command of that thing we like to call the riff. These guys are tight, no doubt about it. I would love to see them live.

I also like the self-aggrandizing press, which notes "Its six tracks show great promise, especially from a band whose average age is 18." Funny, and you win tons o' points for proper use of the apostrophe. A big thumbs up!

If you like your music loud, fuzzy and utterly without any conscience or shred of political correctness, dig right in. Songs like "Does No Mean No", "Skanky Ho" and "9 Month Time Bomb" might lead one to think these are mindless misogynists.

Hell, they might be, but there is a slight veneer of sophistication and humor that makes me want to believe there is satire going on. After all, it takes something to write a song about Jan Brady giving head and Marsha Brady working the streets. What that something is, I can't really tell you.

And who really cares? This is more of that Philly-core kinda stuff. Those of you familiar with the Carnival of Shame might notice a little similarity. Oh, and they also cover a Ramones song (see Hanson Brothers review). While I can't identify it, I really like this mystery meat.

The liners say it all: M.O.D. is Billy Milano, bass and vocals. Then it lists the session guys who helped out. Why not call this a Billy Milano solo project? Because a lot people have heard of M.O.D.

I know Milano did a lot of the work on previous M.O.D. recordings, but if something has a band name, then let it be a band. But enough of my bitching.

This is real tight and clean. And while that helps make this the most attractive M.O.D. album ever, there are drawbacks.

Like the paradox "attractive M.O.D. album." That says something. The songwriting is great, and the performance first-rate. I suppose I shouldn't really worry about what entity is creating what I hear. Ignore the names, favor the jams. So be it.

This is much more club-ready than The Release, but it is also heavier and more coherent. Singer James Cavalluzzo filters his voice a little more, adding a few levels of distortion, but for the most part this is a very radio-friendly disc.

That doesn't mean commercial, though. An anti-violence theme permeates the disc, and Cavalluzzo's lyrics are insightful, not insipid. And this is not a Nine Inch Nails gig, where the guitars exist only as window dressing. There is real feedback and riff work, not to mention some great beats.

And there is a reason for the exceptionally dance-type grooves: a protest against their use to disguise stupid songs (like any rave piece). Always original; Great as before.

A heavy St. Louis band who has been rumored to sign a pretty big record deal recently (though my ear is not as close to that grapevine as before), these guys arose from the ashes of a fairly disastrous KCOU Springfest gig, which ended with the guitarist's equipment scattered across the Ag school's parking lot, to record this real gem. (What a sentence!)

As they mention the Whigs in a song, I might say they do remind one of those Cincinnati boys a little, but they have a little bit more riffola action going. A real fun disc to jam to, cool rockin'.

But going back, my favorite memory of Springfest was these guys' manager, who said, earnestly (after watching a couple of guitars and tons of effects crash into asphalt), "You know, the one thing that would make all this better is a joint." A line and situation which are destined to be immortalized in film someday.

Instrumental goodies from the Shrapnel bag. With help from the usual Shrapnel session culprits, Steidl makes something other than rock music. He performs almost entirely on an acoustic guitar, achieving rather un-guitarlike noises on that instrument much of the time. Challenging.

Obviously classically influenced, Steidl does not fall prey to the temptation to simply "rock the classics." He keeps his classical leanings fairly pure, and in so doing makes this album much more satisfying.

This would seg well with My Dying Bride, not because it is heavy but because it is rather classical and well-played. If it's not heavy enough for you (Shame, shame!) pass this on to your regular music directors. They'll know what to do with it.

See, the original incarnation of this band had guys with the last names Roth, Page and Tyler. And Roth sang!

Well, Tyler and Page are gone, and their '89 album for Link is far in the past. Now a trio, these transplanted Iowa boys rock in more of a traditional Seattle way.

Actually they remind me of old Soundgarden, which is not too surprising as they avow the same influences. Now, VG are leaner and meaner (and fuzzier) than Soundgarden ever was before they metal-ed out for mass acceptance.

The most amazing feature is the epic bass work. You really have to have spent years listening to Geezer Butler and John Paul Jones to get the idea, but Mr. Roth has it down. And while they don't particularly sound like any one band, you know these boys were wide-awake musically in the days of "the wet look" and bad polyester (is there good polyester?).

Slowly your brain cells will succumb to the hypnotic power of the Voodoo Gearshift. Never fear, the trip is a hell of a lot of fun.