Comprising 3/4 of the final Circus Lupus line-up, Antimony managed to get this disc recorded before those tattered remnants also hit the breeze. In other words, Antimony is no longer a band in the operative sense.

Girls Against Boys are the current national media darlings of the D.C. post-hardcore scene, but a few of us remember the fine albums that CL put out, and Antimony hasn't moved far from the formula.

The demise of this band is really a shame, because Phantom Itch picks up where CL left off and cranks everything to a new level of rhythmic hardcore bliss. The guitar lines are strident and pure, the rhythm section tight and lean. Kinda like a meaner, more sterile Fugazi sound. And it's not like these bands don't know each other or anything.

I would hope there will be some massive hype for this album. It is deserving, even if there won't be a tour. Great music deserves to be heard. And if you are among the heathen, go out and grab some Circus Lupus while you're at it. Thank me later.

Four remixes of "Policestate", two of "Godlike" and one of "Birmingham 6".

I grooved on the album well enough, with the caveat that the band really didn't vary from the German industrial ideal at all. The remixes are a help, though even they are still wall-of-guitar, in-your-face sort of things. But is that a bad thing?

Nah. Each of these remixes makes for great club fodder, and they are distinct enough for differentiation. Particularly impressive is the sinner remix of "Godlike", utilizing the base riff and sample to great effect.

A good set of remixes, even if, as before, the stuff is such a product of the genre it makes me blush.

Spacey techno that has an intriguing new wave feel. Kinda like an alternate evolution path for Eurythmics or something.

It's mostly the synth sound that is direct from the early 80s. The beats, sample style and distorted vocals are all pure 90s trends. Like many in the electronic field, the introductions to songs can last a couple minutes before the dance beats kick in. Of course, with average track length well over five minutes, this leaves plenty of time for the meat.

Nicely engaging, yet oddly anonymous. This French act has a nice feel for both the experimental (in the intros) and the club (in the songs themselves). Yeah, this sort of thing can be a dime a dozen, but Brain Leisure just might have what it takes to establish a name. I'll wait for further postings.

Willy Dalton may be the namesake of the band, but his guitar takes a second seat to the horn members of the gang.

For the most part, this is that sort of music I like to call (derisively) happy jazz. But instead of making sublime standards saccharine, Dalton merely writes his own cheesy pieces. So one notch higher on the ladder.

I like the emphasis on the horns, but the 70's Latin funk fusion style that the Gang plays is not one of my favorite idioms. The playing is competent and even occasionally inspired, but there is this nasty Tower of Power feel to things that makes my skin crawl.

Many folks dig this sort of thing. I don't. To me, this seems like pandering to commerce instead of creating. But that's just me.

Sounds like mid-80s hardcore via southern California. Whoa, it is, too.

Twenty-eight tracks and extensive liners that even include the dates and locations of Faction gig during the time specified. Pretty impressive.

Of course, the real test is the music. And while the Faction had a decent knack for writing cool punk songs at a time when it wasn't necessarily cool to be punk (certainly by 1985), I can't say this band has been anonymous for no reason.

The stuff is well-worth listening to, but the songs sound like a lot of other ones coming out from about the same time. Punk can be a maddeningly generic genre, and without unique characteristics (Bad Religion's use of harmony, Jello Biafra's voice, Greg Ginn's riffs) a band can get left by the wayside. I'm not saying the Faction sucked (this disc has ample proof to the contrary), but sometimes writing good songs is not enough.

If you are a serious student or collector of punk music, this disc is pretty damned near essential. Otherwise, it is an interesting anachronistic curiosity.

Of course, this has one of those cool varied-image covers (the doors open and close). And the title pretty much describes the contents.

Bounding around from space to ambient, Giez does a nice job of varying the sound (which is kinda tough in this musical realm). Each ambient piece is set off by a more experimental electronic or space piece, perhaps intended as some sort of introduction.

But even in the purely ambient pieces many different sounds and ideas come into play, with things even bordering trance sounds at times. Giez may not have put out the best (and most diverse) ambient album I've heard this year (I'm sticking with Synesthesia for now), but The Ambient Room is pretty close (even if the title sucks).

Unruly indeed. Truly garish cludge-core that manages to rip off big chunks of sweet rhythm and disgorge them at the appropriate hour.

Each of the three tracks starts off coherently enough before degenerating into a real mess that probably includes assorted body parts in the mix.

An interesting idea, and one I wholeheartedly endorse. Can the band keep it up for a full-length of this material? I can only hope.

The poet as stand up comic. If that sounds cheesy, then dig into Larry Hankin. He'll convince you otherwise.

He is reasonably literate, but not highbrow. He uses literary forms to craft messages into his seemingly mindless, funny stories. When the piece is done, after your laughter subsides, a realization will follow. After you get used to the delivery, you will begin to truly appreciate the amusing art of Larry Hankin.

While much spoken word can be pretentious (even if interesting), Larry Hankin's stories are decidedly self-deprecating. He wants his ideas to get across and makes sure you don't have any problem with the interface. Just listen, okay?

Harvest Theory posits a view of American life that is pretty much in line with general punk doctrine (an oxymoron to be sure) and wonderfully out of line with all the bastards running for president.

You'll note that, for the record, I'm calling my former employer a bastard. And I'll probably vote for him again, anyway. I'd just like to put my hypocrisy front and center. Thank you.

Anyway, the Harvest Theory of song construction brings in a sweeping punk sound (lots of noise) and peppers it with some grunge and Chi-core leanings. Mix that with fertile imaginations, and you get a sound that is pretty much definable as Harvest Theory. Pleasantly anthemic, but not annoyingly so.

The lyrics are stunning, the presentation and production stellar. This debut is one of those real important ones. Perhaps only a few of us will notice now, but if everything falls into place (and the folks keep this level of achievement up), Harvest Theory will be a name to be reckoned with one of these days.

Guitar-driven electro-pop, reminiscent of the finer days of Was (Not Was).

Well, the guitars are heavier, but W(NW) did a song with Ozzy, and HB covers "War Pigs", so perhaps there is an odd connection somewhere.

The beats rarely vary from a slow hypnotic pulse, but !Havana Blast! manages to drop enough cool sounds into the mix that you don't really notice all that much.

I'm having a hard time describing this, but I sure do like it. The sound is often eerie and disjointed, but the pop soul is pure. Yep, pretty damned cool.

Rootsy pop-rock with hard rock leanings (though the music is quite restrained).

Not only am I unsure as to what this really is, I'm obviously not sure of what exactly Henderson is going for. When you make music this commercial, usually there is some sort of market that you're aiming at. The closest I can think of is the Babys, but even the Babys cranked up the guitars a lot more than this.

Which means this is just wanky music that few will like. No commercial potential, and far too cheesy to attract any alternative attention. I feel like I'm caught up in some time warp to the early 80s when David Foster produced stuff like this. Most of us are happy that sort of thing is past.

I may have related this story before, but what the hell. A few years back I was taking Spring Break in Nashville (my girlfriend lived there) and listening to the Vandy station. They played a track from a Columbia (Mo.) band, East Ash. About halfway through the song, the DJ ripped the needle off and apparently flung the record against the wall (that's what it sounded like, anyway). He yelled "No more U2 clones!" and went on to the next song.

I feel that way here. In Between Blue is comprised of talented musicians who have been listening to too much latter-day U2 for their own good. Do the songs suck? Not really, but they are so pretentious that I lose interest quickly. I mean, don't write like an arrogant fuck unless you have millions of dollars and MTV in your pocket, okay? Folks like me will just call you a stuck up ass.

Sometimes blatant rip-offs can make the big time (like Toad the Wet Sprocket, the original "smells like chicken, tastes like R.E.M." band), but most of the time record execs are smart enough to pass on such a thing.

Light pop with as many easy listening and country touches as surf-punk ones meandering through the mix.

The whole point is silliness, from my vantage point. I tried to find some sort of subtext for the wackiness, but that attempt merely resulted in failure.

Sorta like a revved-up Harry Chapin on happy pills. Well, that doesn't sound quite right, either, but I guess I'll stick with it. Weird and mildly amusing.

The first CD issue of the Hyenas first EP (with four extra tracks tacked on). That should be enough for some of you.

For those less familiar with the Hyenas maximum blues formula, I'll explain. You take a nice tea ball of blues, add a ton of boiling water and then immerse the band in said concoction.

You get a caterwauling vision of the blues that would probably leave many oldsters frightened but still could have come from Mississippi if the folks weren't from Detroit.

The most amazing thing is that the music has retained its vitality and presence. It's as if 1987 were today, and in a way, it is. The Laughing Hyenas have been ahead of (and behind) their time pretty much since they started. Perhaps now a greater number of folks can reel in this catch.

As the sticker on the cover notes, this is space rock. That apparently means all of the things synthesizers and such do for ambient and space music acts are actually replaced by guitars, drums and such and played in real time.

Which is why Hawkwind was space rock (and why Lemmy could stand playing it). The difference is breathtaking. Where Nik Turner's new outfit went almost completely synth in the studio for its album (and the results kinda wanked), Melting Euphoria does a good job to capture a live feel to this decidedly otherworldly music.

And I like it. Sure, things get a little pretentious and even silly at times, but the presence of a real band does lend a sense of credence to the proceedings. While I feel I can predict the actions of a synthesizer pretty well, with a band I am always less sure, and that lack of balance makes the music that much more affecting.

Rather than being meticulously eclectic, like Henry Kaiser or Richard Thompson, Roger Miller (No Man, not the King of the Road) is more conceptually eclectic.

He performs all instruments and voices on the disc, but most everything is wave upon wave of guitar, crashing in breakers of distortion and wild effects.

Instead of hiding behind technology, though, Miller uses the tools at his disposal to create his own world, a method of conveying his dreams, nightmares and realities.

The masochists out there might call this pop music, and certainly some of the compositions lean that way (and Miller himself is well-versed in the form). But I'd prefer to call this just a Roger Miller album. That pretty much sums up the experience, and will satisfy those in the know. Miller has been creating exquisitely discordant music for years, and Elemental Guitar is but one more stop on a long journey.

Blissfully overwrought pop. No Knife cranks out the decibels and pounds chords into your brain, and then insists on singing wildly catchy choruses. Does life get better than this?

Not often, anyway. The feeling I have listening to this record is much the same as when I first heard Treepeople (the Toxic Shock record). And, sure, No Knife travels a similar road. But the songs are put together in completely different ways, even though the result (my effervescent mood) is the same.

I've heard some great pop records this year, but I'd pretty much stick this up against most of the others. Okay, Alice Donut may still have an edge, but not by much. No Knife has simply blown me away. The truly amazing thing is, you don't have to drop the laser on an emphasis track to be impressed. Pick a song. Any song.

You will be impressed. Trust me.

Peppy pop music that has just enough of a punk feel to keep the kiddies happy. Picklehead revels in the inanities of everyday life, from job problems to the necessity of chemical infusion.

Okay, so you won't hear Kasey counting any of these songs down on the radio. This is simple, pure pop music that is wacky enough to keep me bobbing along and laughing all the way.

As I've noted before countless times, the art of writing a catchy three- (or four) chord pop song has been completely derided by many. I'd just ask you to come up with one tune as pleasing as any of the 15 on this disc. It ain't that easy, now.

Sure, Picklehead isn't about to change the way the world turns, but for mindless amusement, I haven't heard a disc this fine in some time. I'll be playing Relish for a long time, myself.

A perfectly respectable pop record full of crashing guitars and walls of distortion. The sort of thing the kids love these days.

Sure, Sometime Sweet Susan panders to the masses. But is there something beneath that sheen of trendhopping? Kinda.

Songs like "Ambivalence" almost make me think the band could write an album's worth of great pop songs that do not follow every possible MTVism. Unfortunately, even that tune is plagued by production that ensures popular acceptance.

Someone, the producer or the A&R freak or who knows, decided that Sometime Sweet Susan was going to be big, and figured the only way to do it was make the band sound like every other college music pop band on the video screen. Too bad, because that also has ensured a damning musical anonymity.

Hard techno with those industrial club beats ringing into your brain. The vocals come through nice and distorted, lyric topics include despair and the loneliness of cyberspace.

Kinda like a New Order for the 90's, really. Sphere Lazza write catchy songs with just the right amount of bouncy bass to keep things moving along. The vocals have that goth restrained tendency, and most of the music consists of drum machines and synthesized bass and guitar. The keyboard synth overlays are few but effective.

About five years ago I would have dismissed this sort of album as electro-pabulum. Now I like such stuff, I guess. Nothing earthshaking, mind you; just rather amusing and affecting music. And, of course, you can dance your ass off.

The gimmick: veteran pianist Lou Stein records an album with his daughter, Elise, for the first time. The possibilities are truly stomach-turning.

But the execution is better than I expected. Stein, who has worked with all sorts of jazz musicians (including a large number of the true greats), exhibits a cool mastery of the ivories while allowing whoever is beside him a chance to shine. As Elise sings on only six of the 16 tracks, Stein's choice of sidemen is quite important. They run through standards and Stein's own compositions with panache.

As for Elise, she has a good voice but still needs some time to really work out her own style. At times it's possible to hear her vocal training overshadowing her personal vision of a song. Perhaps after more time she will be more accomplished, but even so, she is no embarrassment.

Stein and his band keep up impressive riffing, with a sound that is reminiscent of the variety of jazz styles in the fifties. Plenty of allusions to Brubeck as well as the bop school. My advice? Skip the gimmick and just listen.

The entire industrial scene as seen by Russians.

Naturally, the folks are a little behind the trends. The base is synth, and the sound in positively orchestral. Vocals do sound astonishingly like the Young Gods. In other words, guys who have been digging Kraftwerk and Einsturzende Neubauten for the longest time.

These are not bad jones to have. The songs are quite well constructed, and the meticulous attention to detail is somewhat refreshing considering the sloppiness of some American industrial acts. And yet I still get the feeling this album was recorded around 1987 or so.

Oh well, you can do worse than outstanding retro industrial. This is sure to bring a smile to the faces of those who really remember, and those who don't can get an interesting sonic history lesson. Dig in for a great meal.

Crude, thick chords resonating through walls of distortion. A mean, harsh voice announces its presence. Could this be... an artsy Killdozer?

Well, no, since Thick Shake has a much more complicated sense of song structure. But the guitar sound is similar, even if everything else is much more "out there".

Sure, fans of AmRep and Touch and Go bands will groove on this like, um, a nice thick shake, but Thick Shake has enough flair to transcend any simple description and enough musical competence to wield the instruments most impressively.

Often enough, Thick Shake seems to be grinding towards the apocalypse, with no real destination in mind. I'll certainly tag along. The ride is well worth any personal pain.

Fans of the Namanax release of some time back should groove on this in a big way. Tape loops, delays and general electronic noise make up most of the sounds on this 75-minute disc.

In other words, this is highly experimental electronic music, the sort of thing rational folks eschew. But I've never been accused of that sort of thing, which is why I dig this.

By the way, if you want to play something remotely resembling a song off the disc, then check out "Fire of Purification" (track #3). "Achtwan" is by far the coolest track on the disc, but it runs for 24 minutes, which might cause a few problems with format requirements (though it's a great song if you've got a nasty case of diarrhea).

For those of us who appreciate electronic noise and other such things, Tribes of Neurot is essential. We'll leave the rest of the world to shake its collective head.

Twenty songs from 17 acts celebrating five years of the wildest (and quite possibly coolest) Texas label.

Most of the tracks are unreleased, and those that aren't are pretty damned obscure (like off some 7" you never had a chance to buy, probably). For those future-looking sorts, check out the new Pain Teens track and the two songs from Starfish, which just about completely rule.

Quite nice of the folks to end with the Roky Erickson track "You Don't Love Me Yet". This is one of my favorite Erickson songs (I love the Bongwater version on the tribute album of a few years ago), and he does it so well.

If you're on the consumer end of things, this is a cheap thrill ($6.99 or less), and all net profits (good legal terms) go to charity. No good reason not to enjoy this disc.

A four-band, four-song sampler EP that plays side A at 33 1/3 and the flip at 45. A nice gimmick, though it probably had more to do with the length of songs on the a-side.

Blank rips through "Super Spy Mode", a great pop raver from the Treepeople post-punk school. The guitar work is sharp and provides the perfect counterpoint to the song itself. A great tune.

Headlice is a little more rude, sludging its way through "Sooner of Later". If you can decipher the lyrics through the amazing wall of static and distortion laid down by the band, you're doing better than I. The riffage here rains fire on my head. Totally wild.

"Kemo" is the Listless offering, one straight from the Jesus Lizard school of thundering bass work. Amusing, if highly derivative.

Horse Breed closes out the proceedings with "Male", a song that follows the same sonic structure as the Headlice song, but with less success.

I'd stick with the a-side, though the songs on the flip are worth a spin or two. That 33 1/3 side is well worth the price.

Space in your face.

Plenty of keys to go around, but the beats are silent. Ah, yes, the empty chasm of space music rears its head.

And like the better acts of the genre, Xylon makes sure to keep repetition to a minimum. Well, as little as possible, considering that each song lasts upwards of 10 minutes and there aren't that many musical ideas in each. It is pretty astonishing that Xylon can almost keep my interest in any song.

Personally, I prefer some beats with my space, but that usually leads to trance (and I do like that better, even if it is a distinctly different sub-genre). Still, Xylon puts out reasonably decent space.