The first chords are heavier than anything on the EP (recorded later, but released in the U.S. earlier). This band is unplugged in name only.

And, well, "acoustics" is a reference to sound, not unamplified guitars, anyway. a.c. acoustics wraps its simple pop ideas up in a pastry of feedback and wailing guitar lines. Like countrymen TFC, only not derivative as all hell like the Fanclub.

As an insight on how Big Star-influenced pop is being interpreted across the Atlantic (I don't think anyone bought the last-excellent-Posies album over here), these folk show there is still room to expand and create in an area many critics called spent in 1975.

While each song is quite impressive in its own right, Able Treasury is really best enjoyed as one piece. Any skeptic should be converted by the time "Sweatlodge" rolls around.

Just to be clear: this is the EP. It was recorded after the LP also reviewed in this issue, but it got its U.S. release before the LP. Sure, this is a little confusing, but you should know these things.

a.c. acoustics plays an odd mixture of ethereal pop, with some psychedelic reverb wandering around. Not unlike Bedhead, who is also a Trance band. But where Bedhead goes to the noise extreme occasionally, a.c. acoustics moves to the soft extreme.

This is not necessarily mellow. The music is softly intense. While the LP gives you a fuller taste, this EP shows the band in good experimental pop form.

Only 13 minutes, and 4 of those I've already heard (the title track). But where some bands like to dump filler on these eps and gouge fans for cash, Amorphis has placed a fully-structured artistic thought.

The sound is more like Karelian than 1000 Lakes (the new tracks don't have any of the "singing" voice), but the sound overall is progressing further. Few death metal bands can claim to be lyrically-based, but this revamping of the Finnish national pole book Kalevala (an old myth) combined with a musical extension of the song "Black Winter Day" is quite moving.

People are starting to notice these guys. Tales from the 1000 Lakes placed in the top 10 in a recent Internet best of 1994 poll (#1 was Dream Theater, followed by Queensryche, so you can see they have picked up some mainstream fans). This EP should help place Amorphis in the upper echelon of rock bands, regardless of subgenre. The new album had better be showing up soon!

Trying to do too much at one time, At the Gates' music often bogs down into an incomprehensible mess. When you're trying to merge death metal, doom, grind and traditional power metal into one solid piece of music, things are bound to get a little hairy.

The main problem is song construction. There is none. While the band shifts gears seamlessly, I wonder why they bother at all. I mean, it's all well and good to start an album off with a great guitar/violin riff, but why not at least use that riff in the rest of the song? I'm just not sure why things have to be so fragmented.

I guess if I could find a point to the mess, I would be happy. And I'll listen again and again until I'm satisfied. There are a lot of interesting things going on in here. I just wish I could figure out why it all had to be run though a butcher shop.

While breaking no new ground, Bolt Thrower has come forth with a wonderfully fresh-sounding album.

It is odd, because the band strictly adheres to every convention of death metal. The slow warm-up to each song, the double-bass drum attack, mostly incoherent vocals grunted in rhythm to the riffs. You know, standard fare.

Of course, Bolt Thrower does have some of the best technicians in the business, and each song is carefully crafted to get the full effect of the band's emotion. Sure all these songs are about the glory of war (like most Bolt Thrower songs), but the band obviously believes in the effect of the music. You can feel a real energetic vibe passing through. Yeah, the crisp production also helps, but it all comes down to the attitude of the band. Bolt Thrower makes this album sing.

Then there is the live disc included with the album. It's a good thing it's free, because the production and performances are substandard. This sounds like a punched-up soundboard tape. But what the hell. You're going to play the studio disc anyway.

A mix of an early-day Napalm Death obsession with percussion (yes, even for death metal) with the occasional flirtation with real riffage.
Often enough, Brutality seems to be turning the starter, as the drums pound and the guitars swirl, as if to note the pending apocalypse. But then things end, and the song is over.

Certainly a much more interesting production than is usually obtained from the Morrisound folks, Brutality have chops. The playing is proficient, but the songs seem to lack real centers. There's a lot of noise, but no sonic focal point.

Hell, noise for noise's sake is fine by me, but by the end of the disc, I was merely bored. A little more direction might make Brutality a little less cliche.

A fully-developed vision of industrial dance music. Everything is heavy, but the beats follow techno and acid house convention, and there is a good amount of goth-style keyboards meandering around. Completely vicious.

Nothing at all can be faulted. My gut reaction to this disc is the same one I had to the first Lords of Acid disc (on Caroline): who can't dance to this? Any of these songs should be able to raise a drunk to her feet and crank him out to the floor. Hypnotic and absolutely overpowering.

I could say more, but this is simply one of the perfect dance records in the universe. There haven't been many, but if clubs are not all over this in no time, then I can't imagine what they're playing. Get on it.

Pacific Northwest boys who have obviously grown up on Nomeansno and D.O.A. Gas Huffer takes those influences and cranks a pop sensibility into them (the bass is still overbearing, but the guitars make for a nice lead break now and again).

And unlike most punk bands, politics take a back seat with Gas Huffer. Most of these tunes seems to be commenting on the absurdity of life's realities. Hell, you have to laugh at things, or you'll go insane. Of course, these boys may have dropped over the edge a little while back.

The real surprise is the diversity of sound. Some songs are straightforward punk blasters, while others take on a loopy linear sound (somewhere between Nomeansno and Treepeople). Outstanding musicianship carries these efforts, because you have to make the lines make sense.

I'm left a little empty at the end. I guess I need more tunes. That's what the repeat button is for.

Former members of Disrupt hang with a couple pals and crank out a disc that's chock full-o-sludge. Oh my.

There's a part of me that really digs this sound. With the proper production (which is here), this stuff can really mellow a guy out after a couple hours at high volume. Something about slow chords plowing their way into your nervous system, I think.

Then my cerebral side takes over, and calls this stuff patently stupid. Well, that's correct. There isn't a lot of creativity going on, and most of the lyrics are about pain and suffering.

Which makes this stuff perhaps the modern version of white-boy blues. It is slow and depressing, and somewhat cathartic. I feel better after a shot of Grief. Hell, it moves my bowels for me.

Produced by Alex of Fudge Tunnel, Hillbilly Devilspeak may be separated by an ocean and a continent from those nutty Brits, but the sound remains the same.

Pounding drums and bass, with guitar lines that swoop in and provide the odd melodic experience. The songs are pretty humorous; the production is passable, but leaves things fairly muddy. This isn't that big of a drawback, though. The thing is the assault, and it progresses nicely.

Actually, if I didn't know any better I'd say a couple of the Agony Column guys moved to Phoenix and started playing again.

Four songs; lots of fun. Mean and silly. Two of my favorite types of music.

In what must seem like a former life, Raymond Watts (a.k.a. PIG) was a part of KMFDM. This is a little reunion EP that still sounds a lot like recent KMFDM, with a few more samples.

Through the years, KMFDM has become more groove-oriented and less aggressive, and sales have followed. The idea may have been to get Watts back for three tracks (and a couple remixes) and try and harness the earlier fire, but the end project is simply wildly accessible.

Not a bad thing at all. This is industrial dance music at its peak. While Trent may claim to be the most artsy of the bunch, KMFDM wins by sheer numbers. And while things have gotten a little generic in this camp (the title track particularly), the music still cannot be denied. A triumph of some sort of will.

Three guys from the wilds of Washington who have a vision of grunge that borrows heavily from the Skin Yard and Soundgarden legacies.

For starters, the music rules here. There are vocals, but it can take a while to get to them. The music has a Louder than Love feel (and, of course, this is about the time Soundgarden started to become irrelevant). The chords are at once heavier and more mellow (a softer production touch, I think), and they follow more Skin Yard-like progressions.

I'm not sure how this isn't completely redundant, but my gut likes it. As the reasoning part of my brain can't find any outright theft, I have to go with that. A nice sunny day album. Play it loud and hoist one (or smoke one, as the band would prefer).

Why leave the industrial dance movement to all those sissy-boys and their wanker keyboards? Noise Box uses a lot of guitars to create a pretty hellacious noise. The sound reminds me of Bloodstar without all the keyboards.

Noise Box is fairly experimental, though most of the songs could be played at more avant-garde clubs. The sound is more vicious than aggressive. The beats aren't always in place, but the sound is.

Things do get a little more mainstream towards the end (filler?), but then once I expected something, another jolted me off my ass. Noise Box is a lot of fun. Kill me again.

And so this is where San Diego hardcore grunge is today…oops, these guys are from L.A. Oh well. My mistake.

At its best, Pile Up really chews up the riffs and blasts the distortion, managing to keep an addictive sound rolling. But occasionally that breaks down, and things get a lot more mundane.

There's more of the former, though. Pile Up has recorded an album worthy of lo-fi. This music was meant to be played cranked on an AM station, received by a transistor radio and then cranked through the biggest speakers you can find. I tried to replicate that idea, making it really tinny and bass heavy at the same time. It sounded much better.

You either dig this kinda stuff, or you don't. There's no middle ground with Pile Up.

Wondrously catchy pop-punk that sounds like a strange synthesis of Hanoi Rocks and Buzzcocks, with a (large) dash of Kiss attitude thrown in. There's a lot more testosterone present than many "scenesters" might like, but then I'm quite sure these boys have been on the "sell-out" list with the hardliners for a while.

Fuck 'em. Pocket Fishermen have a really fun sound, and those whiny glam vocals push everything right over the top. Most of the lyrics are pretty inane, but all is forgiven when the chorus kicks in. This stuff is plain infectious.

I'd guess the label will try and sell these boys as punk, as that is the flavor of the month and Michael Monroe's albums haven't even charted. But I suspect there's a pretty wide group of folk who like to listen to music that's loud, fast and silly. Don't get mad; just laugh.

I remember the "comeback" album. I was shocked by how bad it was. I mean, I didn't even have high expectations.

On this, the "sophomore" of the aforementioned comeback, I think they guys have been listening to a lot of NOFX. Which means, of course, this record is alright. Not great, but then, I was expecting worse. And Riches to Rags certainly surprised me. It doesn't suck.

On the other hand, the music is pretty derivative and the lyrics are positively dumb (but as that is one of their trademarks, it wouldn't do to go changing that). But overall, this is somewhat enjoyable. Yeah, I can think of a ton of punk records I'd rather listen to, but I can also think of some that are much worse. As it seems the band aspires to mediocrity, I am happy to say it has arrived.

Wonderfully aggressive death metal; Sentenced keeps moving in the direction of a more traditional hard rock, but Amok combines blazing speed and more elegant passages with panache.

Extremely tight. The production keeps things popping out all over the place, and Sentenced have all the chops for what the guys want to do. Okay, this isn't terribly groundbreaking material, but you can't tell me it sucks.

Purists will blanch at the acoustic guitar (in spots) and the increasing prevalence of Iommi-like riffs, but that's the price to pay for progress. Sentenced have nailed this sound dead. Every track cranks.

Sentenced is cock rock 1995.

Where Wisdom showed off the technological prowess of the band, this disc proves the boys can play live. The sound is so full and real (as opposed to a synthesized lushness) it just grabs you.

And 16 Volt also refuses to stay put in one mode. Take the first four songs. "Skin" is almost a metal anthem, "Perfectly Fake" would be right at home on Pretty Hate Machine, "Uplift" has a Land of Rape and Honey feel and "Slow Wreck" kinda reminds me of a Pigface grind.

This industrial diversity is refreshing. And 16 Volt doesn't rip off NIN or Ministry; the guys merely approach their different songs in ways that kinda remind you of others. In fact, the only band that tries more things on one album is Pigface, and that's not a fair comparison. Pigface is a collaborative effort with a multitude of members; 16 Volt is three guys, with the occasional guest.

In all, a stunning display of musical and creative power. Industrial outings can sometimes get monotonous, but Skin has so many divergent sounds, it would take years to get boring. There's something for everyone, and every song is something special. Sometimes I can't say enough.

Meandering around the faux-funk sound perpetrated by latter-day Chili Peppers and Jane's Addiction, Solution A.D. cranks out the anthems but don't have a damned thing to say.

And the real problem with that is what is said is really artsy and pretentious. Very occasionally the band morphs into a style similar to Mother Love Bone, and Toby Costa's voice can bear a spooky resemblance to Andrew Wood's. But these interesting moments are few and far between; after all, these boys are artists, or something.

The musicianship is quite good, although the production leaves things muddled much of the time. This sounds like a cheesy major-label album recorded on a jam-box. I'm sure they'll be as big as Candlebox someday.

A cool ambient project that shares some of the eastern sounds of the Grotus remixes. As an added bonus, the project was produced and mixed by Bill and Rhys of FLA. So there are lots of mellow moments, and also times that get pretty darned rough for an ambient project.

It is indeed fair to say that much of this really cooks. If you thought ambient meant "new age", then you haven't heard the good stuff. While some of the spacier parts of the disc get on my nerves a bit, once everything gets going, the songs are very nice. Best enjoyed when you have nothing in particular to do.

Tad has always been loud. Some would go further and add a "and stupid". But I won't. I'll merely note the lack of subtlety in anything ever recorded by the band.

When I last saw Tad live, I thought the big man had been listening to way too much Skin Yard for his own good. His vocals will never match Ben McMillan's, but the sludge guitar attack so popular when the Melvins were in their teens (has it been so long?) seemed to be creeping in to Tad's sound.

The guitars on this disc are so distorted it is pretty hard to hear what's going on. There's your lack of subtlety again. The live renditions are pretty much by rote, just sloppier than in the studio. Barely.

I can't imagine how this will increase the fan base, but I know a few Tad freaks who will really enjoy the feedback. Cheers.

If you don't know, Nik Turner was around at the genesis of Hawkwind, whose vision of "space rock" is quite different than the new age freaks of today. Turner got a few of his old friends from Hawkwind (and a few other folks) to help out on the latest tour of his personal vision.

This disc is sorta a greatest hits thing; many of the tunes are from early Hawkwind days. But Turner tries to breathe new life into these forms, and as even the originals were somewhat nebulous (by design), some of the new renditions are a long ways from the originals.

One of my complaints about the whole concept of "space rock" is the fascination with cheesy sci fi sound effects. These are in full force here, and live, Turner can really get full masturbation effect from them.

On the other hand, the live forum allows a sort of spontaneity that has seemed absent from most of his solo work (not to mention Hawkwind). Turner knows how to put on a show, and while this is but the audio portion, you can almost see the stage.

The great production should satisfy the old fans. Those kids who think all classic rock is boring and stodgy should get a kick out of this set, and maybe Turner will get "rediscovered" like contemporary David Bowie did. Of course, Bowie has always courted the mainstream to an extent. And I just don't see Nik Turner even sitting for a Rolling Stone cover shot. Good thing, too.

Got a load of good guitar players together? Why don't you have them play Cream songs note-for-note, just in case no one has heard them like that before.

The cool thing about Cream was the way Bruce, Baker and Clapton reinvented blues as hard rock and made it popular. Jimmy Page took note, changed his style just a bit, and there was Led Zeppelin. Funny how things work out.

Anyway, there just isn't anything fresh to these takes on Cream's takes. Sure, if anyone is going to do this tribute, it should be the folks at Shrapnel. But where their tribute to Albert King brought a whole new audience to a (relatively) underappreciated performer, this and the Deep Purple tribute seem to be mere cash-flow accelerators. I'm just not a fan of that.

A few folks on the Internet have been slagging on Epitaph (and its bands) because these folk are supposedly sell-outs.

Excuse me? Yes, Epitaph has made a big wad of cash, mostly from people like you and me who love the bands and shell out the bucks for good music. Sure, most of the bands are pop-oriented as opposed to hardcore, but then everyone loved Green Day before they signed...

And the point is, Epitaph is the best example of a truly successful truly independent record label. Yes, Brett has been really lucky. He's picked mostly great bands to record for his label. This compilation is the perfect exampler. Yeah, so I've heard all the songs here (though the Wayne Kramer and RKL are pretty new). I think the folks at Epitaph deserve a cheap celebration. Brett and Co. have earned it.

Glam heroes of yesteryear take on the legacy of a big influence. Sure, it's kinda nice to hear Yngwie Malmsteen again. Kinda. And I was wondering what Don Dokken (not to mention Kip Winger) was doing these days.

Of course, the "names" are plugged in over the Shrapnel house band, which does a nice job of reworking the obvious Deep Purple hits.

The real question here: do we need this? Like the Cream collection, the answer is no. Deep Purple is a great band for drinking, but innovators? Nope. This is almost as good as listening to the scratchy LPs But not quite.

Wayne Kramer
The Hard Stuff advance cassette
(Epitaph)

He's been doing this for almost 30 years, and yet The Hard Stuff is fresher-sounding than 99% of all the punk-edged music out there. Not just a nostalgia trip.