Obviously someone in the Century Media A&R dept. decided to make a play for a ton of death metal-core bands. And where Graveyard Rodeo works, Accuser simply wallows in cliches.

Oh, there are a few good riffs. And they keep getting repeated. Every song, over and over. And if a new riff finds its way in, its usually stolen. Compare the vocal line and riffs in "Misery" to Pantera's "Mouth Full of War". Um, this is actionable, folks.

There's a fine line between swine and sublime. Accuser, as I noted earlier, wallows, and thus (at least for this effort) falls into the swine category.

I had been warned that this was a simply stunning album, one that I had to hear. And lo, it showed up a couple days later.

My source was more than correct. This is aggressive pop music, the likes I haven't heard since the dawn of Treepeople. Bent is too nonlinear to really call its music punk influenced, but the speed and attitude are around in spades.

Every song is a gem. I just wish the folks might have seen it in themselves to put more than 10 on the disc. I mean, I need more. Now. Immediately. Screw the tour, write another disc and send it to me pronto. That's the only way I can be satisfied. Would it help if I begged some more?

All silliness aside, Bent have a perfect alternative pop sound, and the boys can write smashing tunes. And they're from St. Louis? How the hell did I manage to never hear them before? I believe that is the true tragedy here.

Despite a nasty incident that has sidelined Jello for the last few months, he has managed to cobble together over three hours worth of spoken word musings.

While this collection won't bring any new followers, Jello's shrill criticisms of government, big business, the educational system and more are often more on than off. His main point, "Don't buy into my shit blindly, but think (and search out truth) for yourself", is in marked contrast to Rushian "dittoheads".

One of the most amusing moments is his description of meeting Tipper Gore on Oprah (twice). What, a politician's wife is a hypocrite? Oh, Jello, you'll make me a cynical bastard yet!

Jello is not only one of the most informed social critics, he's pretty damned funny, too. Kind of like a Dick Gregory for today. Check him out when he hits the road again. Until then, you have some required listening.

Like a crazed version of My Bloody Valentine, Bully Pulpit rides a pop psychedelic wave right into the apocalypse. Nothing is sacred, and everything ends up destroyed.

Instead of washing the entire production in competing layers of distortion, Bully Pulpit crafts each song in a different way. And there is no predicting what the next sound will sound like. But it will be interesting.

Nutty would be an apt description. I wonder if these folk can even come close to doing this music live? Well, it doesn't matter to me, because the effort that went into making this album is more than enough in my book.

You can't even expect the unexpected. Bully Pulpit does things with sound I hadn't even imagined before. Wandering through this house of musical mirrors might leave you temporarily insane, but I'd recommend plunking down the tickets for the ride. You might see things a little differently afterwards.

Reasonably catchy pop-punk that always seems to amuse. My favorite is the first track, "Maradona", which is, of course, an attack on the fat, drugged-out ex-captain of the Argentinian side. The addictive chorus is simply "Maradona-you're shit!" repeated over and over. Must still be pissed about 1986.

The rest stays at the same intellectual level, but it is pretty funny nonetheless. Some of that humor may be unintentional, but I'm inclined to let it ride. After all, you have to have fun some of the time.

Wonder what these hooligans will sing about when England storms into the 1998 Cup (in Frogland, no less). Could be fun, indeed. Maybe New Order won't get the official single next time out.

Back years ago when I lived in Kansas City, I saw these folk many more times than once. Every show was wildly different, but the one unifying factor was the distortion level on the bass.

I never saw Cher (or Cherr, or some of the other moniker mutations before the "U.K." made everything official) as a punk band really, but Jake and Brent at RdB did, and so their first disc rather surprised me.

The production there left the songs a little weak, stripped of their power. But there is lots of good news here.

The bass is back, and the songs are much better than She's a Weird Little Snack. It's like the god of inspiration waved his wand over the band.

If you need a reason to play every song on this disc, go no further than track #2, "Go-Go". It's positively infectious, and it also will rock your nipples off. DO NOT PASS GO(-GO).

Sorry. Bad joke. But really, don't miss this disc.

A simply mesmerizing amalgam of aural viciousness. Craw returns with a second disc even more unfriendly than the first. All hail.

If you missed the self-titled debut, Craw merges the best parts of non-anthemic grunge and Chicago-style post-punk. This leads to a few open spaces and interesting side trips exploring the darker side of music and life. And then all hell breaks loose again.

Someone I know called them "Tool with talent". I don't hear the resemblance, but Craw is certainly more creative and diverse than any mainstream band trying to rebuild the grunge sculpture.

While I have deservedly called many albums in this issue "good" and even "great", Craw is right at the top of the list. In a season of fine releases, Craw has clawed its way to the top of the heap. Now if only you folk will notice.

Simple, plain-stated pop music that manages to bring across more than exists in the songs themselves.

While Deena Shoshkes and Jon Fried comprise the official line-up, a number of other musicians contribute performances that help the Cucumbers sound progress past the normal Cranberries-Sundays-etc. mellow lilting pop crowd.

At the lowest points, the songs get a little pedantic and straightforward. Most of the time, however, there is that spark of something that keeps the Cucumbers on this side of dull. The extra mandolin and banjo on some tunes really helps, and Shoshkes insists on imposing a little emotion (not much, but a little) into the proceedings, which is always a good thing.

This may be too accessible for the truly alternative and too experimental for the yuppie crowd. I think, though, they'll find quite a few waiting in the middle.

Much more metal than death, Demolition Hammer return with an offering as fine as Epidemic of Violence.

At the time, many old school death metal fans referred to Demolition Hammer as a joke. But in the time since then, traditional metal conventions have been increasingly incorporated into big name death metal albums. You need only check out recent Obituary, Cannibal Corpse and Carcass albums for such evidence.

And now, Demolition Hammer seems to be keeping more of a traditional sound than those bands. And the songwriting is still solid. DH is one of the few bands whose members know how to find a groove within death metal and keep it going.

No jokes here. Demolition Hammer has returned with a vengeance to claim its proper place.

I'd call this band the British Alice Donut if it weren't for the obvious fact: Dog Faced Hermans don't really sound a lot like Alice Donut.

And therein lies the mystery and the wonder. There are the wild horns in the background, meandering bass lines and a female singer (yes, I know Tomas of Alice D is a guy, but many times he doesn't sing like one). But the construction of the songs is not in the slightest way similar. So why the connection in my mind?

Really great music, I suppose. And the one musical connection is the way you can find a coherent structure within the chaos of the sonic surroundings. These folks are artists, damnit! They don't play music you will recognize and swallow after a couple chomps. You must properly masticate.

And if you can't swallow, then chew some more. Wonderful things will follow.

Limey punk that reminds one of bands like Motorhead.

Personally, I wish I was listening to Motorhead. The music is poppy and accessible, but it's merely run-of-the-mill stuff. The lyrics are as just as uninteresting as snotty aging punks can create.

The production and playing are acceptable as far as punk goes, but there is no energy. Bow to None sounds like something they just wanked off.

Just because punk is the new big thing doesn't mean people are dumb enough to buy everything.

Environmentally-correct grindcore? Yeah. But there is a huge amount of experimentation going on as well.

Not just in riff or tempo theory, either. Exit 13 will throw a little funk your way, some wild distortion effects, weird electronic modulation and more.

In other words, an album purists would absolutely hate. Hallelujah! Nothing could be as scatterbrained as this album, but Exit 13 manages to keep the wildly divergent pieces in the same pie. Sorta like mincemeat. Looks awful going in, but the taste is excellent.

Sure, this music has been known to cause rabbits to eat their own tails (Is animal testing of music against the these boys' philosophy?). But humans are like goats: we eat anything. And sometimes it's even good for us. Like Exit 13.

Moving over to AT from AmRep, God Bullies are now no longer an anomaly with their label. While many AmRep bands are great, you can still pigeonhole 99% of such stuff pretty easily. God Bullies have always slipped through the crack.

And the production here does cut the sludge down, if only subtly. The entire album is a vicious attack on society (not necessarily unusual). But God Bullies use musical skill and precision lyrics to really get to the bottom of reality. "Pretty on the Inside" may be the most twisted and dead-on piece of social criticism I've heard in years.

Oh, and you thought you were just getting a decent sludgy post-punk disc? Come on. The only thing I really miss about Michigan is the chance to check out bands like God Bullies, Thought Industry and Twitch live. If these folk are anywhere near you, break whatever law is necessary to catch the show. They're even better live.

After a trip through this disc, I had to ask myself what it was that made me think Godflesh was spent. Selfless is stunning, and I wanted to know where I got that idea.

So I listened to Pure again, and it all came back. I mean, Pure just had no power. It was another heavy industrial album. Despite some great side outings, I admit that I wrote the main act off, consigning Godflesh to my "once cool, now mundane" file.

In a word, WRONG! Selfless is a return to the powerful days of old. The production is much cleaner than Streetcleaner, but the same attitude and sheer force remain. The recent EP tipped me off, but these are the goods.

Back with a vengeance, Godflesh seems intent on destroying all potential usurpers to the throne. The King was dead. Long live the King!

Their scintillating debut garnered almost as much attention as Morgoth's Odium. Now Graveyard Rodeo comes back for more.

Instead of the industrial overtones of Sowing Discord, GR packs On the Verge with deathly slabs of hard core and grunge. Now, you must understand I usually hate that sort of thing. So, even as my rational mind was recognizing these parts for what they are, my emotional response is to scream, "Fuckin' A!"

The danger in labeling music is that some bands can overcome any label, performing stunning music in most any style. Once again, GR rides a trend, and once again the boys redefine that trend. You can call it metal core, you can call it grunge (though it is still death metal; come on), but you can't call it shit. Too much talent in Graveyard Rodeo to succumb to mere posing. An album of the highest order.

Some fairly ambient takes off the Slow Motion Apocalypse album. If you're expecting heavy, down and dirty stuff, well, it's not here.

Trans-Global Underground has pumped some interesting things into the basic Grotus tracks, leading to a couple of re-mixes that are even more dance floor-ready. And the rest is sort of speedy mind-candy music. When you want quality and aggression, but aren't really in the mood to have to fight the tunes.

Twenty-eight minutes of solid addiction. Too bad Grotus has, after this release, left the ranks of the independent. That's how it goes, sometimes.

What Killdozer might sound like if those guys decided to completely forget about hooks and instead listened to a lot of Dogbowl and Daniel Johnston.

Um, right after mentioning the Dogbowl thing I noticed that this disc was recorded at Noise with Kramer and a guy named Steve. Imagine my surprise.

Highly unusual fare. The guitars are usually wanging about somewhere in the next galaxy, and the drums merely constantly in motion. No bass. It might be loony sludge. It might be sludgy country. It might be wacky, cascading pop. This is not music for the incontinent. They might blow their whole bladder right out after a listen to this.

The only weak song is the cover of "Jack and Diane". It's completely unnecessary and actually detracts from the rest of the disc. Just skip track one and get to the good stuff.

Most folks I know in the state of Washington swear by Heatmiser. Nice guys, good band. It's just the occasional Nirvana-esque tune that has always bugged me.

Not any more. The fast songs have gotten faster and leaner, the slower ones slower and less melodramatic. I still don't think the boys know exactly what they want to sound like, but there are so many fine things to choose from, I'm not complaining.

Yes, at the base is a pop-punk sensibility, but Heatmiser has progressed past that potential dead end and moved into some more experimental areas, particularly the production. Everything here is so clean and lean, no bombast whatsoever. It sounds great.

Certainly their finest output yet, and Heatmiser hasn't had a bad release. Now, if only the world would notice.

Pleasant atmospheric alternative pop with the usual odd lyrical bent.

Oh, sure, things break out occasionally, but I get the idea that Honcho Overload prefers to let the music simply glide along to its natural conclusion.

Which is alright, but it has been done before. And HO doesn't have a line on a fresh re-interpretation of the scene. This isn't quite a Galaxie 500 rehash, but it comes close at times.

Good music for the chemically dependent, particularly in the throes of a reverie. But straight, I simply cannot find anything exceptional.

Awfully cheesy heavy funk 'n' rap stuff. Sounds a lot like License to Ill-era Beasties stuff. Stuff I really don't like.

The production leaves things sounding almost mono-like, which wastes some of the sampling efforts.

Just a rehash of everything the Red Hot Chili Peppers have become. Yikes.

Hypocrisy tries to shake things up on this disc. A little keyboard work here, some mid-tempo songs there.

Oddly, the best songs are exactly those mid-tempo pieces. Unlike other bands, Hypocrisy has a good feel for how to retain a death metal feel, even if the bass drums aren't double clutching all the time. And when the songs speed up, you know it's Hypocrisy. Quality playing, sterling production and even some fine songwriting help out, but more than once things slip back into a familiar and well-worn mode.

A mixed bag, but The Fourth Dimension is a good album. As much as I don't want to see every death metal band turn into Metallica or Slayer, Hypocrisy does the slower stuff very well. At times, the guys also show a capacity for writing the great balls-out ripper as well. I just wish things were more consistent.

When trying to tame the power of raw noise into something resembling pop music, a band has to be careful. Either losing the pureness of the sonic violence or simply failing to convert said attack into anything coherent leaves a disc full of nothing.

John's Black Dirt skirts right on the edge of chaos, trying to rein things into a recognizable form. Sometimes it works, and the effect is stunning. Other times, the band is less successful, the pieces scattered from the core.

I've said the same thing about bands like Engine Kid. I think there is a real mutant genius at work. And where there is genius, there is also extravagance and an inability to accept outside opinion. Keep an eye on this outfit. All the pieces may yet come together, as they did occasionally on this disc. Not to be airily dismissed.

Highly technical prog metal, with more emphasis on proper playing than on actual feel.

A lot of people like this sort of thing. I prefer to feed off the emotions of an album, not the technical brilliance of the band. I think there is an equal talent in crafting something original that has a tangible feel. I have no idea if these guys believe in what they're performing, or if they are robots.

The band is comprised of good players, but there is far too much emphasis on scale playing than on songwriting. I just find this pretty dull. It's a shame.

Well, as many of you know, this is another fine Nomeansno release. The liners claim AT really wanted this disc, and there's plenty of reason for that.

There is the wacky concept ("a musical magazine") that drives the disc, for starters.

A few new NMN tracks, some old demos, a Hanson Brothers track or two (um, yes, another name for NMN) and a nice load of the experimental stuff that goes by either the name Mr. Right or Mr. Wrong.

Perhaps the boys should be castigated for the confusion that all these fake names can cause, but I'm not sure why. When you let the music do the talking, then everything necessary is said.

Solid punk from all over the hardcore universe, bound together with that ultra-heavy trademark NMN bass. So NMN refuses to sit still and play the same songs over and over. We're supposed to complain about creativity? Get real. And play this disc a lot.

Grind for your Nintendo. The Casio-like drum machine is kinda funny, but when you distort that sound a lot, it can get rather nasty.

And what big samples you have, M7. Between grand breaks there are lots of little vignettes that recall a dark sideshow or just plain unpleasantness.

I can't help but get the feeling this was manufactured more than created, but then again, I've never heard a grind band this catchy. You will hum these songs in your sleep.

Due to the success of Paw and a couple other bands, many music cognoscenti have dubbed Lawrence (KS) as the new Seattle. If that means the city has more than its share of pretentious grunge bands, then I'd agree.

Occasionally, though, an unpretentious grunge band sneaks through. I liked the Zoom album of a year ago (also on Lotuspool, though I think the band is now with Tim Kerr Recs.), and I like this disc, too.

Yes, the guitar and bass are pretty thick, but instead of banging such things on your head, the effect is more of a sixties psychedelic one. There is a "rogue" Moog that wanders in and out of the tunes. Sometimes it muddies, sometimes it enlightens. But always the effect is to improve the surroundings.

Panel Donor is not afraid of taking a convention and experimenting with its frontiers. Technically, I suppose it is a grunge band. But in name only. Panel Donor plays good music.

The disc says Israeli Disco Grind. And while I searched for a better description, I don't think there is one.

Wildly varying samples, with bare snippets of grindcore kinda holding things all together. And, thinking conceptually, the mishmash of samples is just a technologically advanced form of grindcore. I mean, at times sounds flash by so fast you might think the CD player is skipping. And then the roar returns.

Simply brilliant. My only complaint is that there are only four songs, and the whole disc doesn't quite run 12 minutes. Hopefully more will be on its way before we know it.

It certainly does seem Treepeople have become the new R.E.M., at least in that the new generation of pop alternative bands all owe some semblance of their sound to Scott and Doug and Co.

Pollen goes a little further than most. The guys appropriate style rather than substance, but the guitar sound and rhythms employed are so much in the Treepeople vein that I truly thought I was listening to a tribute album.

And at the moment, Pollen's songwriting is not quite up to the task. Once you pierce the veneer of superficial similarities, you'll find that Pollen is mostly hollow in the middle.

Thoroughly enjoyable, Pollen does need to work on a personal style that isn't quite so Boise-driven.

Joey Ramone and little brother Mickey Leigh trade off on vocals, singing two of Mickey's tunes (one co-written) and a Mick Abramson song.

Well, they sound an awful lot alike. And while there is nothing particularly bad about the songs, none of them are particularly sparkling, either. "Don't Be So Strange" is the best, but it's still stuck in the middling lane.

The Ramones have made a career of trafficking in this kind of stuff, but there is a little spark much of the time that makes you overlook the problems. This is average, and there is no way around it.

I really thought this was some reincarnation of Bullet LaVolta. It sounds just like their first Taang! EP.

But no, merely another Boston-area band that applies a scattershot hardcore attack to anthemic wandering and nearly screeching vocals. In short, I think it's great.

I don't know why the masses never seemed to pick up on BLV, but perhaps 6L6 will be more fortunate. Every song is chock full o' tasty riffs. The rhythm section keeps things moving at a furious pace, and Ted Condo (also bassist) screams like he knows his vocal chords will be gone tomorrow.

Quite a find. 6L6 rocks me up, down, sideways and on a staircase. I just can't stop hitting repeat.

Two tunes that don't appear on the soon to be released Sweat disc (on CM Records).

One of the things I like about Sweat (judging not just from this slab but from last year's demo) is that no two songs sound alike. "Scenic Loop" is an up-tempo psychedelic pop-punk rocker (really), and "They Didn't Know Him" is a sorta twisted coming-of-age anthem. Yeah, it was on the demo, and the production shows to an extent, but it is still a real interesting song. I'm not sure if it's a parody (or if so, then of what?), but I like it nonetheless.

Perhaps this is what a James Hetfield solo album might sound like. Lots of thick, chunky chords and not much silly fret burning.

But then again, some coherent lead work would be nice. The songs aren't constructed as much as simply spliced together. Here Derek played a heavily distorted sitar, here Derek slings sludge, here Derek runs his fingers up and down the neck of the guitar a couple times.

And the same riffs keep getting recycled. Some tracks, like "Elasticity", show off the best of what this form can offer: a thick yet fluid lead line, decent (if a little repetitive) riffage and a solid line through the song. But much of the rest just doesn't quite come together.

A noble effort. I wish more people would try to create truly original solo guitar albums, which Taylor has done very well. I'm afraid I just don't like the end result here.

A nice collection of pop-punk bands from the states and the U.K. I know this is a license deal, but why not license some of these bands instead of stuff like Chaos U.K. or the English Dogs?

Particularly good are Alloy (check out their recent album on Engine), Cock Sparrer, Poison Idea and Zero Boys. Of course, I assume you checked out the Vic Bondi track almost immediately.

Yeah, a lot of this is kinda weak, but with 33 songs, you can easily brush aside a little chaff and find the good kernels. Just because it has a nice tune doesn't mean it sucks.

Chris Connelly
Shipwreck advance cassette
(Wax Trax!/TVT)

The usual: a mishmash of genres and styles. This is perhaps a little more coherent than previous projects, certainly more accessible. More self-assured than nasty.