Anyone thirsting for the days when a little outfit from Minneapolis lit up the world every year or so with a hot release can smile.

No, Arcwelder doesn't rip off Husker Du or anything like that. But they do sound like the folks at times.

I loved their single from last fall, "Raleigh". It may have been my favorite song of the year, and it is included here. While most of the album doesn't quite match that intensity, the songwriting is solid and playing something akin to wonderful.

There's just something about a trio. It is simplicity, period. And the music that is forthcoming is pure and gives me a warm feeling all over.

Okay, so it's not "Raleigh" all the way through. That may be for the better. This is wise, witty music that I can't bear to take off the turntable.

Rounding up all the usual suspects and more, Clawhammer surge forward with a record that is quite difficult to listen to, but in the end worth the effort.

At times this seems to be wandering into punk territory, but most of the time some odd pop/hard core deconstruction theory seems to be at work. This lends to the difficult nature of the music, but the rewards are in the sonic results and the wacky lyrics.

Things tighten up as the album progresses, and I'm not sure if that's good or bad. The strangeness evident at the beginning has wandered next door, but the vicious hard-core musings please me just the same.

As an Epitaphile, I find it difficult to complain about any release of theirs. And while Clawhammer are not the typical Epitaph act, they match up well in the quality department with their labelmates.

I think I'll listen to this just one more time...

Tasty old school death metal. Almost out-of-control music and completely unenunciated vocals. This is just the thing to put those Euro pansies back in their place!

Um, hopefully you folks recognized the joke. Despite the joke, I do like this. I haven't heard a band go for this sound in quite a while. Sorta a Black Crowes (artistically, not stylistically) kinda thing.

I was trying to get a handle on what these folks were trying to do, and after the first four songs I gave up. Not that there's a problem here. I dug all four tunes (and the rest, to be fair). But I warn you: this is truly strange.

Strange means fucking incredible, by the way. Sure, understated pop might begin to describe the sounds that reached my ears, but then you think it's this collection of nice, sweet tunes, and there ain't none of that going on here.

Like I said, this is strange, and I can't think of anything better to say about it. I can say I have never heard anything like Ether, and that makes me smile.

You'll just have to hear it to believe it. It's darn near amazing.

Somewhat muffled production muddles what sounds to be great music. While at times a resemblance to the currently popular Pacific northwest can be heard, there is a midwestern feel that is unmistakable. For those who might understand, mix early Mudhoney with Uncle Tupelo and you might have a clue.

Definite potential for the future.

The usual suspects: crunchy guitar licks, boom-boom-chick-boom-boom-boom-chick percussion and hoarsely shouted vocals. In a situation like this one has to gauge the songs themselves.

Well, most of this is live anyway, so judging craft can be a little difficult. But I will say the live stuff is more energetic and pretty damn fun.

Yes, there are a lot of punky-grungy-upyers kinda bands running around. This taste isn't enough to make me declare for or against these folks. But if you don't like the new Superchunk (like a few I know), give this a listen. You just might find a little youthful gem, buoyed by fresh energy.

Another St. Louis band cumin' atcha, this one more aggressive than the last. And while this is a tape of a tape (of a tape?), the sound is still very good. There is great flatulence on Earth and the heavens are pleased.

I don't know how to describe this, except to say they manage to sound like more bands at once than anyone I've ever heard, with the result being a rather original spot of noise.

It's damned encouraging to hear two decent acts from the cultural void of the universe.

Psychedelic pop without all the annoying feedback. You can understand the lyrics and appreciate Lynn Canfield's fine voice.

While sticking to the mellow side of the road, The Moon Seven Times are far from dull. At times reminiscent of seventies Kate Bush, though a little trippier, these fine folk have put together an album that is deceptively simple.

Pass this over to the MD on your right if you like, as most metalheds will not appreciate your seg from Bolt Thrower to this. But you are free to appreciate the easy beauty of the songs. I hate the Sundays and stuff like that, but for some reason I like this. Perhaps it's because the melodies are a little more interesting, and the lyrics aren't unadulterated shlock (thanks YFF).

The great comic book that comes with this is worth a good review, but the music earns that as well.

Consisting of the ex-rhythm section of Laughing Hyaenas and some other guy named P-Bone, Mule power their way through psycho-powered country blues grunge. Well, clean grunge, I suppose, but the speed is turgid and I can feel another one slowly slipping out.

Sorry about that. The first rule of reviewing is never do it on the toilet. After all, any reference to fecal matter is likely to offend someone. Oh well. Shitting aside, this album smells better than a sweet fart and has meandered its way right up my colon. It's currently resting somewhere in my small intestines, where it resembles the flu. But I have no plans to remove it any time soon.

In the last couple of years, founding member Dan Lilker split the band to do something a little heavier with Brutal Truth, and a new generic guitarist wandered by. John Connelly put out a brilliant solo l.p. and Glenn Evans put out the pretty awful C.I.A. album.

This sounds glam to me, but of course I thought the last Metallica album sounded awful glam, too. There was a time when Nuclear Assault were among the heaviest guys around, and they put out good albums.

Well, this makes the second bomb since Survive, and I guess Connelly and Evans are just hoes to the cash. While there is no horribly-out-of-place cover like the God-awful rendition of "Ballroom Blitz" on their last work, it sounds like folks going through the motions, copying everyone and not sounding one bit original.

(sigh) I used to really like these guys.

More Canadian industrial/techno/etc. stuff. This is certainly more club-oriented than Malhavoc or Industrial Artz, but it's certainly not lacking any aggression. And there's enough going on to interest me, which is more than I can say for some techno outfits.

Not your run-of-the-mill dance shit. For starters, this wanders all over the place, from mellow experimenting to full in-yer-face bomp and grind. And instead of heading straight for the obvious, generic beat or bass line, Prayer Tower challenge the listener to dig something new. Good move.

As can happen, my personal copy is warped beyond belief; it adds an interesting loopiness to the A-side, but the B-side ("Why See Straight") manages to come through alright.

If you happen to get one of these bastards, play it. The full-length is due in late April, but why wait when you can jam to some of the dopest, deffest, hype, whack, (insert latest hip-hop slang for cool here) shit to fly off the press in a while.

Yes, K.C.'s rhythmic merchants of noise jam with the best and totally blow me away again.

I'm not sure how this came my way, but mucho thanks all around. Fine, fine tunes.

Combining some industrial tendencies (and drum programming) with pure riffola and real percussion, Tubalcain have a fresh sound (awesome production, better than most major releases) and even better songwriting.

Every once in a while you reach into the bottom of the box and pull something out that just blows you away. This is that album for me. This falls between every genre I can think of, and the only band I can think of that kinda sounds like this is a Dallas outfit called Course of Empire, whose album I really dug (when it came out the FIRST time). But I would hate to imply there is some sort of rip-off game going on here; these folks are rather original and have recorded one of my favorite albums of the year so far.

Where have they been? Who cares... they're here now!

(voice off camera) Welcome to this week's edition of Victory of Chicago's Wild Punkdom, with your host: Marlon Perkins's corpse.

Well, you never know.

Some of America's finest punk talent is showcased here, with only one band from the west coast. Yes, hard-core does exist elsewhere, and it's pretty damn good, too. From the ripping Warzone cut to Victory's own Snapcase to the always amazing Bloodline, this compilation bleeds the ears in a pleasant fashion.

You folks have played your share of death metal compilations lately; now why don't you get it on for the hard-core universe? Despite some nutty pronouncements, this is not a dead genre, and these young fucks are out to prove that point. May the pits be fast, furious and friendly.

Leukemia
Suck My Heaven advance cassette
(Black Mark-Cargo)

Strange, but I have never heard an Animal House sample on an (almost) death metal album. This is more in the glam grindcore vein (really), but it still shreds mine ears.