Nik Turner and plenty of friends, many of whom are members of his touring band. Space music taken to the extreme, with lots of unusual noises included in the mix.

Turner is a master at orchestrating this stuff. The stream-of consciousness short story contained in the liners makes for good reading while listening, too.

On the whole, though, I preferred Turner's live discs, mostly for the seeming spontaneity. I liked the space music with the raw sound that only a live recording can really capture. Anubian Nights is a cool project, and galaxies ahead of any other space stuff that I've heard, but I think Turner needs to rediscover that live sound and import it into the studio.

Some NC folks with a real affection for that German industrial sound with a NIN jones chaser. A wondrously live-sounding mechanized industrial sound.

Catchy as fuck, with enough aggression to tempt even the most rigid of violence freaks. And beat variation the likes I haven't heard since the new Die Warzau.

Apparatus prefers to cycle through influences, much like the most recent 16 Volt, though from a completely different perspective, of course. 16 Volt is an angry band, and Apparatus is much more dispassionate and angst-ridden.

Plenty of ideas to sample here. Apparatus has put together a wild ride that massages both the club folks and metal freaks. A nice package all around.

Three tracks produced by Tom Allom (Judas Priest knob guy), the album coordinated by Anthony Bongiovi (Jon's uncle who cut the "Runaway" single and helped set up Bon Jovi's album deal) and a cheesy cover of "Kids in America".

Goodness, it seems like these boys are going places.

And why not? Cheap and easy punk rawk (and glam metal overtones) with irresistible hooks and sublime pop sensibility. If they look good on video, there should be no stopping them.

While I often rail against extremely commercial fare (which this is), I have to admit that this stuff is really fun. Throwaway? Yeah, that too. But why quibble?

Play them while they're still unknown. That won't be long.

Power punk pop, a la Die Monster Die or Hammerbox. Ali Rogers' vocals are somewhat more distorted, and the band relies a little more on lead guitar work, but other than that the sound is pretty much the same.

And the songwriting is just about as solid as well, so as this 13-song collection rolls along it just continues to impress. I would prefer that the band find a more original sound, but as long as the folks want to stick around here, they might as well do the thing as best they can. So they do.

Fun listening, but nothing new or revolutionary. Fans of the aforementioned bands ought check this out, and if you don't believe that a woman can belt out a song with the best of men, well, you can listen in as well. There is nothing wrong here; I just wish the Barbie Complex had bothered to find a more original style.

Sounding a lot more like Anthrax than, say, the last Anthrax album, Joey Belladonna has put together a solid band and, co-producing with old Anthrax knob-meister Alex Perialas, created a classic hard rock disc.

Mausoleum got major label distribution for this one, and good thing. It should be a monster. The lead track is good, but there is much better fare on the full album. Just start with "Blunt Man" and take it from there. "Injun" seems to have something to say about Joey's parting with Anthrax, if that sort of thing interests you.

Takes me back to high school (in terms of years, that is). Belladonna is deserving of all the attention it garners. This album, while certainly a different style, is as good as White Noise, and I like Joey's voice better. I'm having way too much fun just listening.

Once upon a time there was a band called Uncle Tupelo, and that band's mix of folk, country and punk was considered somewhat revolutionary when it was released.

Of course, everyone and their dog claims to love Uncle Tupelo now that the band is dead and buried, and we have also begun to hear a generation of bands who have been influenced by that sound.

Blue Mountain adds a nice Neil Young-esque sense of the blues to the aforementioned formula, leading to some wildly disparate-sounding songs. And I like them all.

Quite an adventurous signing for Roadrunner, who may finally break into the regular college market in a big way with this disc. Blue Mountain will flow freely with bands like the Jayhawks and Wilco (the latter a Tupelo offshoot who passed through town last night). And while references abound, these folk have found an easy reconciliation that serves as their own sound.

Great music for sitting around drinkin' and cussin' on a rainy night. Or whenever you want to hear a cool album.

From the (really) forthcoming Greatest Hits package. The press identifies her as both a transvestite and transsexual, which you can't be at the same time, really. But why quibble?

The title track was a nice little honky-tonk punk, and included are two repetitive faux-disco re-mixes that have an annoying resemblance to a Paul Lekakis hit of years gone by.

Wayne/Jayne isn't that original, even with the "punk" songs included here, but the stuff is mindless and fun, and I'll not whine. The full-length is due in August, so be sure to check it out. Everyone can always use a laugh.

Cosmic Assault
(Cleopatra)

When the subject of great guitarists comes up in conversation (a not-unheard of circumstance), I always bring Helios Creed into things. If the person has heard of him (unlikely, but it happens), Creed is dismissed with, "Yeah, okay, but who do you compare him to?"

Precisely my point. And let's not forget that Creed also plays most of the other instruments on his albums as well. On this disc he has reverted to some Chrome-era industrial hacking, with some of the spacey sensibilities he may have picked up touring with Nik Turner.

All done in the inimitable Helios Creed style, which leaves me breathless and leaves most others with a blank look on their faces. "What the fuck is that?" is a common rejoinder.

Well, perhaps Creed is a bit out-there for most tastes. You can be fairly certain this boy will not go mainstream any time soon. Good thing, that.

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I can't recall Epitaph ever releasing an old-school NYC hardcore disc before, but then, perhaps the fact that bassist Adam (Adrock) Horovitz co-produced the studio tracks had something to do with it.

By the way, I guess you have to refer to the band as DFL on the radio. Oh well. But now to a real dissection of the contents therein.

Well, phrases like "a sloppy Murphy's Law" come to mind. This doesn't suck, so don't accuse me of slagging the disc, but DFL isn't exactly at the forefront of the hardcore movement, either.

I personally liked the last track, "What's the Difference", an interesting deconstruction of hardcore itself. And the rest of the disc is decent fluff, but certainly nothing more. Plenty of snotty attitude to pass a sunny Sunday, but no meat and potatoes. Yeah, this is a sure-thing sales-wise, but the music is passable, too. Ignore celebrity status and make up your own mind.

Truly momentous noise. DragKing sounds much like Iceburn crossed with Mama Tick. If these references are too esoteric, then try this: the Jesus Lizard trying its hand at jazz. I like my first attempt better, but the second works alright.

Samples are a driving force, and the music pretty much caterwauls behind that impetus. Is there a rhyme or reason? Somewhere, I guess, but I don't feel like finding it at the moment. I prefer bathing in the chaos.

Music at its most uncommercial. DragKing does everything wrong in terms of mass acceptance. While that does not always guarantee the converse (acceptance by me), it sure helps. And despite this veneer of guys wailing away at instruments with no concept of reality, I can hear something behind the noise. Sure, it's a mess, but DragKing has that intangible, a sense of art.

Kill Yr Boss is mean, perverted, loud, distorted, backstabbing and just plain weird. And yes, I love it.

The gimmick, of course, is the female hardcore vocals. Except that Charlotte Webb Swenson sounds just about like any guy trying to sound like Henry Rollins.

A nice presentation of the style, and Five Story Fall does its best to try and jump from the pack of bands cranking out the grinding hardcore. Some songs, like "South Philly Gestapo", accomplish this aim better than others.

The riffs are lush and songs flow pretty smoothly, considering the abundance of tempo changes. If you dig the heaviest of hardcore and are looking for something new to hear, then Five Story Fall is worth checking out.

Fronted by Jack Grisham (T.S.O.L, ya' know), the Joykiller romps through territory familiar to old fans. Mixing the raw power of early T.S.O.L. with that hard-to-shake tendency to write the occasional anthem, Grisham and co. have managed to crank out a highly-polished piece of punk that should take over MTV in, say, five minutes.

Personally, I prefer the ravers, but it's tracks like "Seventeen" that will get the kiddies lighting their lighters at the shows. Okay, so maybe scene stalwarts might be somewhat appalled (not if you heard that last T.S.O.L. record, though), but this is a fine disc by any standard, and it also has a huge commercial potential. That's a nice upside.

A little trip down memory lane with a voice from the past who has managed to put out a record that sounds great today. Nothing to complain about, certainly.

In instrumental mode, this sounds a bunch like Gone. When Gerard (no last names, of course) starts singing, wanders off in all directions, from grunge to hardcore to pop.

But everything runs around a strangely discordant base, one where keys and song structure are not really prized. I guess this should be loosely termed pop music, but the Muddle likes things left, well, in a muddle. And I'm not going to argue.

This is simply one of those discs that grows on you like a barnacle. Once you start playing it, someone has to come scrape it off your stereo before you'll stop. And I don't know why this is so addictive. Must be the (lack of) tuning.

Stunning, in a perversely understated way. Kinda like listening to Bleach for the first time. You knew something was there, but you had to listen over and over to find it. No recess, man.

Sparsely-produced pop, strange and yet sometimes very lovely. Mighty Isis is not one for undue amplification (or just a rookie producer, perhaps), but I like hearing the space between the sounds.

Everything is not coherent, and often enough it seems Mighty Isis is more than willing to accept a judgement of "Pavement ideologue". While this is not a good thing, the band does a few things to try and break out of such a slot.

The songs usually come together by the end, and the three members are all quite decent players (and not ashamed to show it). Sometimes I do wish I could make a little more sense of everything, but in general I like this.

Along with NOFX, Pennywise shares the title of "Ultimate Epitaph band". Catchy choruses, ripping riffs and hacking attacks on what passes for society today. And you still leave with a smile on your face.

Yeah, this is the music that made Epitaph the "cool" label for mainstream types who still dug the occasional pop-punk foray. And with its third release, Pennywise proves the end is nowhere in sight.

Actually, I'd put this a little above Unknown Road and perhaps even just a smidge better than the debut. But why split hairs? Pennywise is about as good as it gets in punk these days, and thankfully a good chunk of folks are starting to notice.

Yes, the formula was written by Bad Religion, but Pennywise is smart enough to write songs about the personal, rather than scientific, side of society. And the music is still a bit more stripped-down... not that you'd miss the influence or anything.

Same old Pennywise, same great Pennywise. As a friend of mine once asked of Green Day (when Kerplunk! came out), "When will these guys write a bad song?" Not yet, anyway.

On their own (after the demise of Red Light), the Pleasure Elite decided to dump this live disc out on an unsuspecting public.

The results are mixed. The live recording captures the feel of the band better than Bad Juju, but the production is a little spotty at points and the songs are still a little derivative.

None of the eight songs here appeared on Bad Juju, so all-new material for those who got on the train with the Red Light album. I'd still like to hear something other than standard metallic-industrial rantings, but I'll settle for this. A good representation of the Pleasure Elite, for better and worse.

Not audience friendly. Pygmy Children assaults the listening public with pure techno-industrial madness, only occasionally bothering to really get down to the business of the song at hand.

I suppose that makes this experimental, at least at times. I must admit I liked all the stuff the Roper Brothers pulled.

And from our nation's capital, too. Almost fitting that such rancid commentary would emanate from the source of pomposity.

A completely disturbing trip through these boys' minds. I'm not sure when I want to return, but I am happy for the voyage. Only the brave and stouthearted should attempt this voyage.

Seven songs, see, titled "One", "Two", "Three"... you get the point. Seven is Zip Campisi, by the way.

Ambient to the extreme. And really, to the generic. Campisi does all the usual little things with rhythm and kinda subliminal noises, but I want to find out what's in his head, and he's left this project too sterile for that to happen.

Not bad, just not terribly interesting. It would definitely put me to sleep, and I don't think that's what ambient is about.

Sorta like if Treepeople led with the bass instead of the guitar. Swirl Happy refuses to play pop music by the rules, and Dave Baldini's bass is all over place making sure that the music stays unconventional.

Just as soon as you've settled in a you think a song will stick to it's simple intro, Swirl Happy, well, swirls things up. The band's wonderfully loopy songwriting style is rather addictive, and the whole package was produced to really bring out the strengths of the band.

Of course, this isn't completely commercial fare, though songs like "Plunge" certainly have potential mass-appeal. Swirl Happy should have no problem finding someone who shares my opinion and is willing to pick them up.

More of that fine San Diego hardcore sound. In my review of their last, some misunderstood SC to mean South Carolina and not Southern California (I got a few phone calls about this). Hopefully the OJ trial has taken care of any misunderstanding about that abbreviation.

Tangents aside, this is as creamy good as the last, full of chunky riffs and an awesome thick sound that really fills a room (particularly at maximum volume, which is recommended). The melodic touches are as dead on as before, leaving the songs quite catchy.

Better driving music there is not, though it might not pick up the babes in that Camaro convertible next to you. Life goes on. Remember, good music is better than cheap sex (unless you're really hurting, and even then it's a toss-up), so just turn up the volume as they turn up their noses.

Playing a brand of country-rock (or roots-rock, if you will) that I last heard from a Buffalo outfit called the Outriders some three or four years ago, the Trailside Rangers are primed to take over their home base of New York City.

The lyrics are written in prose that is printed in paragraphs in the liners-a nice effect. The music is easy-going, with bluesy melodies and great laid-back lead guitar work.

Some feel there is a trend towards this sort of music, what with the (moderate) success of the Jayhawks and Wilco and so forth. Who knows. But if the big, wide world decides to come to the doorstop, the Trailside Rangers will have some great music for everyone.

An outgrowth of the Northwest Elektro-Industrio Coalition, this disc showcases rare tracks from bands like Kill Switch... Klick, SMP and Noisebox. Oh, and plenty more.

The liners note the industrial heritage of the area (Skinny Puppy, FLA and Numb, for starters) and give an informal history of the NEC. If you still think Seattle is about grunge, you've missed a lot. From pop to this stuff, the Pacific Northwest is home to many diverse sounds. This disc gives great notice about many members of the NEC.

Of the bands that I haven't heard before, I'd like to recommend the tracks from And Christ Wept and Waiting for God. You should plow in and find a few favorites of your own.

Just in case you missed the last four singles from this German hard techno outfit.

Hard techno means fast, mean and dirty, with plenty of sampled guitar and other heavy bits. Stuff that is pretty much guaranteed to get me on the floor to hurt people (though Barbara is much more likely to do damage, as she tends to flail without remorse).

Basic blood-pumping music with all the trimmings. As usual, X Marks the Pedwalk has put together a fine package. I liked last year's album (The Killing Had Just Begun) immensely, and now I have to start looking for new singles. I have a feeling that won't be easy. Such is the thrill of a search.