Considering that I didn't like any Pixies album after Surfer Rosa, it shouldn't come as any surprise that I haven't liked what I heard from Frank Black's first two solo outings.

And the same sentiments ride along here. In the early days, the Pixies weren't good enough (or indoctrinated enough) to play clean arrangements of the pop tunes promulgated. So the stuff was cool. Once producers and A&R folks started whispering in ears, it was all over. The clean pop tunes were dull, and any attempt at tapping the vital forces of distortion sounded stilted.

If Black weren't so damned pretentious, he might have pulled this one off. His band is nice and tight, and the tunes are as interesting as anything he has ever done. Yeah, the production is far too clean, rendering attempts at dissonance rather pale, but the real failing is that Black wants us to think he's a really deep guy. He's got a collection of reasonably catchy tunes, and then he bollocks it up with silly, overwrought angst and vitriol. I mean, he waxes positively Cure-ish with tracks like "You Ain't Me", and that sort of thing is absolutely unnecessary.

As I often said about the Pixies, the stuff doesn't suck. The Cult of Ray is merely not very interesting. Message to Frank: Chill out and have a beer, okay?

Riding somewhat the same territory as arena rockers Melissa and Alanis (no last names need apply), Colleen Coadic's whiskey-soaked voice manages to stake her own claim to this well-traveled musical road.

For starters, her arrangements are more bluesy than bombastic. Indeed, at times the production reminds me a lot of the sparse honesty that Etheridge found on her first album (and never recovered). The folky instrumentation (violin, harmonica, acoustic guitar, etc.) brings to mind the late 80s Mellencamp albums (and the Indigo Girls, of course, but why be obvious?).

Sure, Coadic tries to hard to make a point sometimes, and the creeping death of anthemitis is often just around the corner. But just as often a haunting melody scrapes itself down my spine, leaving a nasty scar. Of course, to be popular, she'll have to bulk up the sound. To be better, Coadic needs to move to roots just a bit more. The terrible choice.

Now licensed in the US by Metropolis, FLA arrives with its latest. Always a good thing.

The past few albums have seen a transformation of FLA from a techno outfit to a heavy industrial one (with techno tinges). This might have had something to do with Roadrunner, it might have just been the tracks of the times. Hard Wired is a return to techno roots, with plenty of awesome beats and guitar noise to keep the newer fans pleased.

Actually, this is the most accessible FLA album I've heard. Perfect for the clubs, "alternative" radio and kids in cars. And just in case you thought they'd given up on cool electronic experimentation, check out "Re-Birth". Great noise transmuting into bitchen beats.

My only caveat here is that in the return to a mostly techno universe, Leeb and Fulber have somewhat sterilized the lush FLA sound that I liked so much on Millennium. Of course, I also really dig the more experimental noises here, and you can't have everything. Even if you want it.

The continuing saga of FLA rolls on. Another great album, satisfying both my intellectual and emotional musical needs. Very few acts can do that on a regular basis. That's why FLA is so damned good.

Even the crack Canadian mounties couldn't keep that fat Vancouver bass from migrating south, and Seattle boys Gas Huffer keep that sound alive and rolling.

Yeah, something like D.O.A. meets the Ramones (wait, isn't that the Hanson Brothers?), with odd twists and turns that only Gas Huffer could provide. Crude punkish music can only take you so far, and Gas Huffer shows what it takes to go forward.

Dashes of sixties surf 'n' turf and a truly wacky sense of reality, for starters. You see, the main point here is fun. None of that silly "I'll kick your ass" shit. Gas Huffer wants to leave you with a smile on your face. And unless you have Alan Keyes's sense of humor, your grim will be coast-to-coast.

Simple, to the point, silly as hell. Any complaints? Don't tell me.

I really liked last year's Pusher album, which featured ex-GLU member Tommy Joy. And both projects share a lot of the same musical ideas.
For starters, an astonishing reliance on electronic equipment for folks trying to replicate 60's rock 'n' soul. All involved should be paying huge royalties to Sly Stone and crew.

Not for directly ripping anything off. Just the feel (and anyway, Sly needs the cash). GLU is more conceptual, meandering into realms of psychedelia and industrial madness that even Sly didn't foresee. Which makes marketing this sort of album a real bitch.

Enjoying the thing is a breeze, though. While the catchy grooves are often hidden beneath layers of riffola and electronic disturbances, they're there. Open your mind and allow the hidden core enter your soul. And indeed, this album has that soul-touching potential. You just have to let it.

I have no idea how to convince commercial radio or MTV to accept GLU (which is kinda necessary if the folks want to sell enough albums to satisfy American), but fuckit. Enjoy the cool tunes while they last.

Two years ago, I would have said Hypocrisy has totally cheesed out. Indeed, Abducted has a lot more in common with Iron Maiden than Penetralia. Even ripping rockers like "Killing Art" seem oddly tame.

Well, this is produced out the ass. Keyboards everywhere, and not one note is out of place. The guys have learned how to play, and they want it to be pretty. You want to bitch?

Of course, the ascendance of bands like Amorphis and Tiamat have made many more "traditional" bands rethink their stance. Hypocrisy has been moving this way for quite a while, Entombed has been getting more and more melodic and now one will claim that Sentenced is a death metal band in any shape or form these days. Oh, those wacky Scandinavians.

Like I noted with The Fourth Dimension, Hypocrisy does this lush thing well. I'm not sure that the guys' hearts were in the old sound. And now that they can play...

Purists will not be pleased. But there are a lot more who are coming around to this sound. This album is quite good. The next one could be great.

Last year's album was The Hard Stuff. That should have been a hint. This one's a bit more contemplative and moody.

Not that the starts didn't turn out or anything. Adding some oozin' ahs are Terence Trent D'Arby and Epitaph presidente (Mr.) Brett Gurewitz. A few other folks sit in with the band (read the liners; come on). And to be honest, this album sounds a lot more like the typical MC5 record. There's nothing wrong with raucous pop music.

And talk about AOR promise! I'm gonna be hearin' stuff from this down at the gym. Which, incidentally, is a good thing as far as I'm concerned. Working out to one Hootie and the Blowfish song after another can be goddamned annoying.

Yeah, I wish he ripped it out a little more at times. Even on rave-ups like "Take Exit 99", Kramer seems to be holding back from the anger that permeated "The Hard Stuff". But I have a feeling this will grow on me. It's a good album from a guy who knows how to make cool music. The departure leaves me a bit cool, but I'll just have to listen once again. No harm in that.

A second disc from this Boston-area outift. Just as scratchy and mean as the first.

Otis shares a lot with such area luminaries as Sam Black Church and 6L6 (luminaries in my book, anyway). Thick grungy guitar and some sort of attempt at creating hardcore anthems. And as Kev (omatic) actually tries to sing, Otis is a step ahead of those bands.

The whole formula comes together best on songs like "Stand Pipe". A fucking great song, despite the blatant Ministry rip-off. Yeah, it may be actionable, but it's one hell of a rip through musical time.

I'm pretty sure I compared the first album to Bullet Lavolta (one of my favorite bands, period). This one comes a little closer to that ideal; the band's tighter and sticks to grooves a little better.

You want to pigeonhole this band? Good luck. Yeah, Otis sounds like a Boston band (that guitar sound is a giveaway), but the guys have worked their collective ass off to create a unique niche. And it works for me.

One of Pansy Division's main themes is that sex isn't political. But these guys have done more to create the impression that while gay sex may be physically different than straight sex, the emotional content is the same. And yes, everyone's normal.

It helps, of course, that the songs are catchy pop gems. Even on a bittersweet tune like "I Really Wanted You" (about a guy who chooses a girl instead), the music and lyrics are upbeat. None of that annoying Morrisey-like whining. Life is good, even when most of the people running for president love to call you a pervert.

I always try to separate the music from the lyrical content (I am a music critic, after all), but bands like Pansy Division don't let me do that. Certainly it is one of the best pop outfits of the last five years. And part of that pleasure is the content of the songs. Fun. Enjoying sexuality. And you don't have to be gay to tune into the vibe.

Never disappointing, Pansy Division fully satisfies this time out. A slab of joy, to be sure.

As someone recently said to me, "No one is doing this stuff except for My Dying Bride and Paradise Lost. And I can't listen to Paradise Lost these days."

Well, this album sounds a lot more like Type O Negative than My Dying Bride (and Type O actually goes for that "over the top" feel). Goth metal lite. Damn, I remember when this band was fucking great.

I can't even tell what Paradise Lost is going for here. A few nods to the old doom standard, and some steps toward 90s power metal (White Zombie, anyone?). Hell, you can't tell me that "The Last Time" isn't a goth pop tune with excessive guitars. Not a bad idea, mind you. The band simply doesn't execute, butchering whatever good ideas might have been behind the songs. A few years back, Paradise Lost helped establish one of the coolest sounds in music. I don't know where Draconian Times is going.

I know, I gave this an "average" review. I've gotta be fair. I put Paradise Lost up to a high standard. This is well below that, but certainly a better effort than at least half the bands out there. Any old Paradise Lost fan will be disappointed, but folks who dig Morbid Angel, Type O or stuff like that might be rather pleased.

Some people know how to write great pop songs. These folks are not usually the greatest singers (guitar players, whatever), but they have a real feel for using three chords to strike at the hearts of millions.

These folks can't be always rushed (remember the second Michael Penn album?), and they can't always be found in the centers of the musical universe. As you might have guessed by this build up, Jonny Polonsky is in this esteemed group of folks.

I haven't heard pure pop songwriting this cool since the Tim Elder disc from late last year. The main difference is that Polonsky got money to spend time in the studio and use real instruments. Elder had to stick with electronic substitutes.

Polonsky's voice is sub-standard, though such folks as Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen have made out quite well with less-than-perfect yodels. He keeps his playing simple and direct, which brings all the attention to the songs, which is where it belongs.

Short (the 10 songs run a little more than 24 minutes), sweet and to the point. Great pop style, and Polonsky has it. A joy of an album.

I reviewed this band's excellent EP a couple years back. When they caught up with me on the Internet, I asked to give this a listen. I'm quite happy the guys agreed.

Possession's take on death metal incorporates Ride the Lightning-style riffage, vocals that often soar even while grunting (like a hoarser King Diamond in early Mercyful Fate) and a very technical approach to the playing. In other words, something like the tack recently taken by both Death and Suffocation.

Nice work, in other words. Possession needs to work some of the songs out a little more, cutting down on the herky-jerky nature of some of the tunes. This is always a potential trap of technically-based bands, and Possession doesn't quite make it out of the pit. Still, the ideas are solid. The guys are on the right track.

I'm still at a loss to understand why a band with such proficiency in the studio and such obvious potential is left out in the cold. Yeah, the sound is somewhat unusual, but that's not a bad thing. There is work to be done, some smoothing of corners and all, but Possession has all the tools.

The press calls this rockabilly. So that's what it is.

It's not rockabilly. Perhaps something more akin to stridently sparse post-punk pop. But then, that's getting silly. The honest truth is that the band itself probably has no idea what to call its music. It's always better that way.

A two-song EP. Whatever. The A-side, "Scenes of Broken Things" has a great rhythm track, with just a little guitar and some hyper vocals added. Way cool.

The flip, "Too Few", rips a little more with the guitars. but the rhythm section is just as manic as on the A-side. I think this sound might have been aided by a little more aggressive production (you really have to crank up the volume to hear anything), but too much would have killed the coolness. I'll settle for this slab.

Taking some real pointers from the Chi-town hardcore set and incorporating them into the maelstrom of the Boston sound, Slughog has some serious ambitions.

And they come through often enough to keep it on my stereo. Naw, this ain't Kepone or Mount Shasta, folks who have really expanded the Chicago feel, but it's not bad. There's something comforting about pure aggro noise every now and again.

If you play it loud, no one will notice. That's the beauty of most of this stuff. Kinda why I like it. Average? Sure, but still a big wad of fun.

The musings of William Orbit, the guy behind Caroline Lavelle's music. While the base of the stuff is the ambient movement, Orbit refuses to stick with that school, bringing in plenty of samples and musical ideas to keep his pieces vibrant and interesting. Unlike many ambient producers, Orbit sticks to a more rigid style of songwriting, refusing to wallow in the nebulous sphere of just plain ambient.

However, in using the pop song format, Orbit also closes many doors of exploration. The vocal choruses to many of the songs get awful repetitive and don't advance anything at all.

And then as soon as I am about to resign this to the slag heap, a really cool track like "Montok Point" surfaces, and I have to admit I like some of this stuff. I do wish he were more consistent though. If Orbit didn't feel the need to experiment with commercial sounds, this album would have been much better.

Oh, a new Too Much Joy album. It used to be that such things promised a couple really funny tracks, a cool pop tune or two, and the rest at least acceptable. Not so in recent years...

Of course, the guys sound really unpretentious recorded. This does not carry over live, where the members of Too Much Joy look and sound like frat boys who have gotten far too successful on meager talent.

There aren't any belly-thumpers here, though faux-subversive choruses like "I Want to Poison Your Mind" are kinda funny. It sounds to me like the band is trying to make a few more real points than usual, but the sound is so throw-away it's hard to take such things seriously.

A perfectly average album, which is what Too Much Joy has always been good at producing. Keep your expectations low and you'll be pleasantly amused.

Laurie Mayer, William Orbit and Rico Conning. Orbit at the knobs, of course. Unlike the Strange Cargo project, Torch Song is a true ambient outfit. And Orbit and Co. do the right thing by this stuff, keeping the commercial influences out and really branching into the various shades of the subconscious.

While not quite as inventive as Aphex Twin or Synaesthesia, Torch Song whips its tunes into coherence even while traversing the universe for ideas. A tough trick, only turned by quality folk.

I particularly liked the usage of the beats. Torch Song meanders its way between true ambient sound and trance, usually sticking to the mellower side of things. A nice set of sounds, to be sure.

The first album I liked well enough, though it was far to close to stuff like the Indigo Girls for me to understand how Libbey and Carrie Johnson were saying anything new.

But Beaker brings it all home for me. First, the Johnsons have recruited two other full-time band members. The guys have really helped flesh out a "band" sound, which was missing before. And this album is much more upbeat and poppy. I don't recommend that career move for everyone, but the songs prove that the Johnsons are versatile writers.

There is still a tendency to sink into moody harmonizing, but a little of that is alright, I guess. 22 Brides has carved out its own spot in the acoustic pop world, serves notice with this album. If the next album progresses as much as this one has, 22 Brides could really break out.

One of the more intriguing tribute ideas: songs that Jeff Beck has played guitar on. He wrote or co-wrote four of the 11 tracks. Beck has made his career re-inventing great songs other folks wrote, and that gives this tribute a little credence in my book.

And imitation would have been a sincere form of flattery here. If only the folks involved would deviate from the Beck norm...

Occasionally it happened. Warren DeMartini's rendition of "New Ways Train Train" is certainly spirited, and Steve Salas' run-though of "Shapes of Things" (with Sass Jordan on vocals) is pretty damned cool. But they sound a good bit like how Beck recorded the songs originally.

Steve Lukather, Bruce Bouillet and Jake E. Lee also turn in good, if also too-similar, performances. The Mick Mars (with John Corabi singing) version of "Happenings Ten Years Ago" is at once the most dreadful and yet most arresting song on the set. It certainly doesn't sound like Motley Crue, and it doesn't sound much like the Yardbirds, either.

Well-intentioned, at least. And the liners encourage the listener to search out the original versions of the songs (as do I). The execution, as on all tributes, is uneven. And ultimately disappointing. Nice try, though.