If you haven't seen someone for almost 20 years, recognition comes slowly at first, and then the embrace is strong. So it is with the first new album from the seminal OC punk ensemble Adolescents. Those who grew up with the band's first collection - the incomparable self-titled "blue album" - may be a bit confused at first, but give it a little time and everything soon falls strongly into place. Granted, the sound is generally smoother and occasionally on the poppy side, but the velocity, amazing guitar work, focused anger, and insightful social critique are as strong as ever. Opening track "Hawks and Doves" sets the stage with its knowledgeable, accurate, and furious condemnation of the debacle in Iraq. This takes us straight to the shredding "Lockdown America," a bold treatise on the current assassination of American society at the hands of our Republican executioners. Every song on this album is excellent except for "California Sun"; it has a strong beat and some great riffs, but the chorus sounds like an annoying parody of an orange juice commercial ... blah. Overall, this is a welcome and long overdue return of one of the greatest underground bands in existence.
-Marcus Solomon

ADULT.
Gimmie Trouble [Thrill Jockey]
[Fans of robots, aliens and electronica take note.]

Imagine you've just woken from a horrible dream, only to find yourself in the middle of a crazy crowd of concertgoers on an alien spacecraft. The lead singer of the alien band is wailing and banging on her keys. The other two members are locked in their own world, nodding and making robot-like movements to the various beats. I have suspicions this might be what an ADULT. concert is like. Quirky personalities in interview and a wildly entertaining disc to match, ADULT. is a rarity. Founders Adam Lee Miller and Nicola Kuperus and recent add-on Sam Consiglio are spunky and full of attitude; "weird" bleeds from every note they create. This is the music the peculiar barista next door plays every hour of every day. This is the music that opens up for the band you just started listening to. This is the music that plays behind the artsy films you don't understand. This is the music that invades your mind and makes you dizzy. Alien or not, this stuff is awesome.
-Ashley Graham

THE AMERICAN ANALOG SET
Set Free [Arts & Crafts]
[Fans of Flying Saucer Attack, Spaceman 3 and Galaxie 500 take note.]

The American Analog Set are back, though they're not really kicking down the door. Set Free is more like politely knocking on the door. This latest release may not have the appeal as, say, From Our Living Room to Yours, but it gets the band back in the right direction after the not-so-enticing Promise of Love. Set Free focuses more on simplicity, allowing the flow of the song to make its own path. Andrew Kenny's soft-spoken tongue guides us through songs about love, loss, and moral philosophy. "Immaculate Heart" takes the Spaceman 3 concept and lays the song down while quickly rehashing it with an instrumental that's altered slightly yet keeps its identity freshly intact. "She's Half" looks more toward the folk rock of the Ô60s, where "Make It Easy" ups the volume a little as reversed guitar notes echo over classic rolling-brush drum strokes and low-key jangling rhythms.
-Andrew Duncan

ASG
Feeling Good Is Good Enough [Volcom]
[Fans of Fu Manchu, Queens of the Stone Age and, oddly enough, that classic Epitaph Records sound take note.]

Based on the opening riff of "Act Like You Know," I was convinced that ASG's third album was just another Kyuss-worshipping stoner rock album. Well, OK, there's a little of that here, but Feeling Good takes those meaty Sabbath riffs and punches them up with a whole lotta SoCal punk attitude and intensity (think Offspring, Pennywise, Bad Religion and just about every other Epitaph band from the mid '90s). Which is weird because ASG are actually three long-haired surf dudes from a completely different scene: Wilmington, N.C. Regardless of how they arrived at this sound, it suits them well. Tempering the total metal sludge with a fairly constant up-tempo beat and raw, melodic vocals keeps the album pushing along with a lot of energy. And whereas metalcore bands blend the extremes of metal (death) and punk (hardcore), ASG have opted for a more song-oriented version that features great hooks and intense music, similar to what Fu Manchu did on their most recent effort, Start the Machine. Feeling Good, however, establishes a distinctive sound for a band that seem more interested in simply writing ass-kicking songs, regardless of their influences or origins, than fitting into any subgenre.
-Adem Tepedelen

THE BANNER
Each Breath Haunted [Ferret]
[Fans of Terror, Danzig, Ink and Dagger, and Dio-era Sabbath take note.]

The Banner's debut Ferret release, Each Breath Haunted, does nothing less than amaze. For those familiar with the band's Blackout! Records releases Your Murder Mixtape and Posthumous, this record can be summed up in one word: progression. The fast, aggressive sound that we've all come to expect from The Banner can be heard on such tracks as "I'll Be Happy When You're Fucking Dead" and "Black Hoods," among others. More interesting, however, are the sounds emanating from the speakers during the other ten tracks. As for these songs, forget what you've heard from this band; more than half the titles break hardcore conventions by clocking in over three-and-a-half minutes. So what did the band do to fill this time? I'm not exactly sure, but the album continues to blow me away. "Experimental" is not even an accurate adjective. Opening track "Devil Hawks" begins with an acoustic intro, which is slowly obscured by a quick kick and scream that will surely wake the dead. By the end of the track, expectations are null. For the entire length of this forty-two minute release, tranquil articulation weaves the listener between the frightening moments of brutal horror-inspired fear, speedy times of fleeting senses, and apocalyptic breakdowns.
-Tyler White

BJÖRK
Drawing Restraint 9 [One Little Indian]
[Fans of Björk's last two albums take note.]

This, like most original soundtracks, lacks a lot when it is separated from its visual partner. The typically Björk-ish whimsical and abstract musical bits suggest nothing about the film, except perhaps a similar delicacy. At any rate, Selmasongs this ain't; if you've come in search of Björk's amazing voice, you'll get scant reward here as it is featured on only two songs (three if you count the Lamaze-class-on-helium panting of "Pearl"). Elsewhere, there are forays into sounds akin to her most recent solo albums. "Gratitude" has all of the harp-laden toy-box innocence of a Vespertine track, and later we get the (excruciatingly tedious to the uninitiated) throat singing and monotone vocals she used as support on Medülla. It's as ambitiously odd as we've come to expect from Björk, but like Medülla, it takes a serious, serious fan to ever want to play it more than once.
-Michael Coyle

CAVE IN
Perfect Pitch Black [Hydra Head]
[Fans of Converge and Isis take note.]

A few years ago, it seemed as if major labels were snapping up every independent band with a proven track record. And RCA's pick-up of Boston's Cave In helped turn out 2003's excellent full-length, Antenna. Unfortunately, many of the band's longtime fans failed to find joy in Antenna, since it was a continuation in the less heavy, more melodic direction that had begun with 2000's Jupiter EP. What I found so appealing about Antenna was the combination of power-pop, space-rock, and heavy metal elements. There were choruses and there was guitar feedback, yet the music was devoid of the screaming and hardcore-style breakdowns that similar artists indulge in. Whether or not Cave In's newfound independence from RCA is to credit/blame, the screaming is back in the mix on Perfect Pitch Black; fans now have themselves an album that bridges Antenna with 1999's Until Your Heart Stops. There isn't as much focus on production and instrument sounds as with the previous release, but Stephen Brodsky's passion still shows in his music. As Brodsky also has recently performed and/or recorded with The Octave Museum and New Idea Society, it's great to know there are still prolific yet worthwhile artists out there.
-Darren Paltrowitz

CLUE TO KALO
One Way, It's Every Way [Mush]
[Fans of Elliott Smith, Pernice Brothers and Badly Drawn Boy take note.]

A master of counterintuitive pop arrangements, Clue to Kalo's Mark Mitchell stretches his unusually nuanced approach to cover every ornate corner of his third full-length release. Mitchell's brilliance is in the details - in things not obvious on first listen - whether it's the handclaps and softly sighing backing vocals on "Seconds When It's Minutes" or the way his melody slightly breaks meter with the tempo on "The Just Is Enough." Unfortunately, Mitchell is just too darn subtle for his own good; his melodies are careful and restrained and too unassuming to break away from the hypnotically busy backdrop that he creates for them. Amazingly, despite the amount of detail in Mitchell's craftsmanship, the songs feel more like minimalist pop, with richly droning background tones obscuring the surface melodies. In fact, the transitions between the songs are so subtle that the album almost plays like one long track. Once your mind fully integrates the myriad of elements skipping and purring in the background, Mitchell's melodies are found to be beautifully ornate, bending and swaying at unusual intervals around the unusual tempo changes in the bitter "As Tommy Fixes Fights," a song that incorporates strings, a harpsichord, hand drums and flutes as it shifts shapes for five minutes before hitting the belated chorus. The less resilient listener might have zoned out by then, however.
-Matt Fink

THE CRANES
Particles and Waves [Manifesto]
[Fans of Raymond Scott, Betty Boop, The Twilight Zone boxed set and "Space Oddity" take note.]

Beyond the noisy, sexy goth-song of its beginnings, the Cranes have turned from clutter and clatter toward tiny lullabies on Jupiter. Kisses and wishes, wronged relationships and shattered dreams, unbearable loss yet hope - these things collide beside the Cranes' optimistic yawn; the clinging, stringed one portrayed by Jim Shaw's twinkling, spacey arrangements with barely-there melodies anchored just barely by the breathy baby-doll coo of Alison Shaw. Hope is the lasting impression given off through the bell-chirping, ring-tonality of "Vanishing Point," one that begs of its dear antagonist to "check your frequencies" before leaving poor loving protagonist Alison behind. She doesn't doubt he'll stay. And, if he doesn't, she'll dream about "Astronauts" through the chipper yet dozing piano's tinkle that sounds like Pet Sounds if it had been recorded for Rod Serling's diabolical pleasure rather than droogie beach bums catching some waves. Or her brother'll borrow from the Eurofolk catalog of Mellotrons and acoustic guitars that made Bowie's fame for "K56" and "Far From the City" so to let her show her capable sea legs' stretch. Though I wouldn't suggest listening to this record while driving, you'll face a golden slumber that's sweeter than a summer's rain.
-A.D. Amorosi

DIRTY THREE
Cinder [Touch and Go]
[Fans of Morphine, Low and Felix Lajko take note.]

It's difficult to perfect perfection, but Dirty Three have done it. Cinder veers away from the long, conceptual instrumental epics of the past as the band focus on shorter, almost pop-like pieces - pop-like for Dirty Three standards. Brought up on traditional folk ethics and rules bent to post-contemporary standards, the band wax and wane through their most haunting and beautifully stunning songs yet, as well has some louder rock surprises. What makes this album so appealing is that the band have gone back to basics without veering off the beaten path, as was the case with the highly experimental Whatever You Love, You Are. After 14 years, it is evident the band continue to challenge their conception of music. If each album is a soundtrack to their lives, Cinder is one of reflection, taking all elements from their career and putting it into one glorious album.
-Andrew Duncan

THE DOUBLE
Loose in the Air [Matador]
[Fans of Matador Records, New York City, and odd juxtapositions take note.]

You see before you the latest innovation from the great minds at Matador Records. A tireless quest has been taking place deep in the labyrinthine corridors of Matador's fabled research and development department, where musically inclined lab technicians have burned the midnight oil many a night in search of the perfect indie band. With the Double, dear friends, that quest is over. Though the exact proportions remain an industry secret, the discerning ear will detect in the Double's cold churnings and clangy popitude more than a little of such earlier Matador successes as Pavement and Interpol - indeed, "Idiocy" is a breathtaking marriage of the two, though "What Sound It Makes the Thunder" finds that marriage hitting the rocks with glorious results. Additional hints of the band's New York predecessors like the Velvets and perhaps especially Television are certainly present as well, giving the entire formula a heady bouquet of punk and post-punk experimentalism. A note of caution, however: Scientists are baffled by the fact that nothing the Double does matches the easy-to-listen-to fun of the bands they draw upon, and additional trials will have to be performed in order to determine why the record's idiosyncratic juxtapositions of the band's iconoclasm with its laudably hum-able pop impulses occasionally leave the Double sounding like a lower-energy Walkmen. On the whole, Loose in the Air is somewhat less enjoyable than the sum of its parts, but what would science be without a little envelope-pushing?
-Steven Hanna

EL TEN ELEVEN
S/T [Bar/None]
[Fans of Tortoise and Karate take note.]

As the liner notes of El Ten Eleven's self-titled debut make a note of stating "there are no keyboards on this recording," it speaks volumes as to just how far bassist Kristian Dunn and drummer Tim Fogarty go to push their music past the natural limits of indie rock's drum-and-bass (not to be confused with the "drum Ôn' bass" genre of electronic music) instrumentalists. Relying on a small army of foot pedals to manipulate and mold his sound into mewing pastels and bubbling background textures, the arrangements are startlingly rich, leaping with more detail and imagination than those produced by most traditional lineups. To their credit, the musicianship is astoundingly accomplished, with Dunn turning his bass into a cascading waterfall of notes on "Sorry About Your Irony" and massaging a wall of reverb into a serenely cooing sonic tapestry on "Thinking Loudly." Even so, their best moments are hardly more than outstanding background music, with the instrumental noodling and texture-making clearly taking precedence over the melodies. In the end, El Ten Eleven might just be the best band to ever work within the limitations of drum and bass, and that still might not be enough.
-Matt Fink

THE FALL OF TROY
Doppleganger [Equal Vision]
[Fans of The Blood Brothers and Coheed and Cambria take note.]

This one has me in kind of a pickle, since The Fall of Troy sound very similar to the two bands listed above. One band I love - The Blood Brothers - with their flayed screams and hyperactive flurries. Coheed and Cambria, on the other hand, I've always just been annoyed by. Am I the only one who finds their prog-punk a tepid bore? Unfortunately, Doppleganger leans more toward the Coheed side of things, laying on the dorky nerd vocals more than the throat-ripping screams, floundering in the topographic oceans more than firing up the outboard and hitting the swells head-on. On the plus side, the guitar work on this album is pretty damn hot, although I've got a sneaking suspicion the dude might be sporting a big afro, in which case all bets are off. What this all boils down to is a band who are young, impressionable, and in desperate need of finding a style to call their own. Doppleganger sounds great (Foo Fighters collaborator Barrett Jones provides the production chops) and the songs show flashes of brilliance, so definitely a band to watch. Oh, the lyrics are utter bullcrap, though.
-Jason Schreurs

JASON FORREST
Shamelessly Excited [Sonig]
[Fans of The Avalanches and Fatboy Slim take note.]

Following up his 2004 breakthrough mash-up of disco and arena rock in the dazzling Songs of the 1979 Disco Crash, German sound-collector Jason Forrest returns to melt more forgotten vinyl into a newly malleable mass of sound. Spreading his conceptual net even wider, Forrest samples everything from hard rock riffage to acoustic guitar strums and bubbling pop melodies. "My 36 Favorite Punk Songs" is just that, a dizzyingly swirling mix of Forrest's favorite punk songs compressed into one three-minute track. "Storming Blues Rock" continues this genre-subverting trend, strangling one slide-guitar riff into a cacophonous electronic anthem. Even more startling is "Nightclothes and Headphones," a track where Forrest pairs country crooner Laura Cantrell's lovely melody with a stuttering backdrop of sparking beats and flitting melodies. Experimental Norwegian artist Maja Ratkje turns up on the electro-blues workout in "Evil Doesn't Exist Anymore," a track where Forrest weaves together seemingly disparate sources - strings, stomping beats, an ethereal chorus, and swirling noise - into an engrossingly unified patchwork. Like no other, Forrest genuinely excels at making cut-and-paste mash-ups fun to listen to, bypassing the pretensions inherent in the form and creating something that sounds good on headphones and the dance floor. All in all, it's one of the most accomplished acts of larceny in rock history.
-Matt Fink

GANG OF FOUR
Return the Gift [V2]
[Fans of Franz Ferdinand and Interpol take note.]

No matter how great and beloved and imitated Gang of Four are (and they are all three), this reeks of opportunism. Rather than muster the energy to create something new, the Four decided to re-record a batch of songs that any fan already has. The genius is that, 25 years after their inception, lots of people have heard of Gang of Four without actually having heard them. These are new, shinier and better-produced versions of the songs culled from the group's first three albums; so even if you have the originals, these sound better. And if you want a greatest hits package, this works fine as well. Conclusion: Everybody - young or old, fan or hipster - can groove and rock along for the first time ever (sort of).
-Michael Coyle

GHOSTY
Grow Up or Sleep In [Future Farmer]
[Fans of The Long Winters, Fruit Bats and XTC take note.]

What sounds like the soundtrack to a Steinbeck novel, Grow Up or Sleep In is the objection against isolation and loneliness. In "Big Surrender," Andrew Connor's perfect pop pitch infects the airwaves amid desperation turned into blooming guitar strums and powerful hooks as he rationalizes, "I know it's hard to be an optimist ... You don't have to be a pessimist." And even in the darkness of his lyrics, Connor can always find the light in a harsh reality. With a Midwest landscape as his background, Connor enlisted a quartet to fill in the lush melodies of songs like "Rooms in the Dark" and "Clouds Solve It." There is a comfort in his experiences and a surprise in his reshaping of simple pop elements into an expansive world of intricate compositions. Overall, Grow Up or Sleep In is an exceptional performance that can only come from a talented mind.
-Andrew Duncan

GIANT DRAG
Hearts and Unicorns [Kickball Records]
[Fans of Sonic Youth, The Breeders and My Bloody Valentine take note.]

Giant Drag's Annie Hardy doesn't care what you think. Exhibit A: She opens Hearts and Unicorns, her band's debut album proper, by blurting out something deranged-sounding and perhaps German, and then closes that same song with a verse entirely composed of the word "meow." Exhibit B: She cackles hysterically in an interlude between the lovely "Smashing," which sounds like a less fuzzed-out My Bloody Valentine track, and "Slayer," which could have been penned by Thurston Moore. Exhibit C: She's matchstick thin and looks like she could be your 14-year-old cousin, but chain-smokes on stage and has guitar-playing skills that have awarded her comparisons to Kevin Shields; not to mention a set of pipes that are at once childish and sensual, ‡ la Kim Deal in Breeders mode. All this, coupled with drummer Micah Calabrese's multitasking (he plays the keyboards with his left hand), adds up to one helluva album - "Blunt Picket Fence" is a floating, horn-infused ballad that invokes PJ Harvey's softer side, while "My Dick Sux" and "High Friends in Places" are punchy and infectious and will get under the folds of your cranium after a spin or two. Hats off to you, Annie - just cut down on the maniacal laughter, would ya?
-Meghan O'Dell

GOBLIN COCK
Bagged and Boarded [Absolutely Kosher]
[Groove-based and catchy indie rock mixed with Black Sabbath riff marches.]

It all starts with the album cover, doesn't it? Study it closely, for it is wide open to interpretation. Musical visionary Rob Crow (solo, Heavy Vegetable, Thingy, Optiganally Yours, Alpha Males, Fantasy Mission Force, Team Sleep, Pinback ... take a breath now) is back with this most interesting Sabbath-worshipping indie rock funfest. Taking old school Ozzy-era Sabbath (or Sleep or Kyuss or ... you get the picture) riff grooves and wrapping them around experimental modern rock and pop compositions, the result is fresh and exciting. As odd as it may sound, the blend works exceedingly well. One is treated to an array of dreamy atmospherics, colorful rhythms, distorted guitars, and pure pop sensibility, often anchored by doomy, stoner-rock riff grooves. Bagged and Boarded is a musically entertaining trip that never gets old. There isn't a bad tune in the bunch. Just don't let the Sabbath comparisons in the press statements fool you, as Bagged and Boarded is intended only for those with varied, boundary-pushing tastes.
-Scott Alisoglu

GRANDADDY
Excerpts from the Diary of Todd Zilla EP [V2]
[Fans of The Velvet Underground, The Flaming Lips and trucker hats take note.]

Rock critics will tell you that everyone who ever heard the Velvet Underground went and formed a band, but what they won't tell you is that those bands dismantled the Velvets' sound and assembled something new using only the pieces they found easiest to incorporate. The charm of Grandaddy has always been that they seem insistent on building their own records using all the jagged and unwieldy pieces that were left over. Jason Lytle's whiny, spacy twang hasn't lost its luster in the two years since his band's slightly off Sumday, but even folks who adore 2000's The Sophtware Slump will have to concede that the new Todd Zilla EP, while a welcome return from a band we've been missing, is definitely a bit of a stopgap affair. A superb number like "Fuck the Valley Fudge," which takes us on a sad little tour through the bland interstate towns of America as seen from the cramped cab of a semi, is a fine if unadorned addition to the Grandaddy catalog, but on the whole, the EP could use a little more heft. And the charm of oddball rocker "Florida" - which seems determined to build a hit single out of the least hum-able chord progression in history - isn't enough. Oh, sure, you gotta buy this thing. But you'll forget all about it once Lytle's full-length follow-up finally drops.
-Steven Hanna

GRAVENHURST
Fires in Distant Buildings [Warp]
[Fans of Slint and Nick Cave take note.]

Though he has never been one to repeat himself, having evolved from insular bedroom crooner to crypto-folkie over his previous four releases, Gravenhurst's Nick Talbot takes what might be his boldest step with Fires in Distant Buildings, his foray into sepia-toned goth-rock. From the serenely dark sway and eventual guitar assault of "Down River" to the gorgeously autumnal lilt of shuddering organ and sighing melodies in "Animals," the album is impeccably balanced on biting guitar distortion and soft-hued balladry. The pulsating, murder-obsessed "The Velvet Cell" falls into the former category, chugging along at mechanistic pace, with crosscutting guitar lines punching and surging through the song's murky ether, just as the carefully introverted acoustic strums of "Nicole" return the album's pace to a funereal crawl. Unfortunately, Talbot drags out two of the album's more engaging tracks far longer than necessary, taking more than 10 minutes to unwind the hypnotically brooding "Songs From Under the Arches" and remaking the Kinks' "See My Friends" as a nine-minute minimalist Velvet Underground groove. That said, it's an album with few missteps, one that plays to Talbot's strengths in creating melancholy atmospheres and filling them with enough dread and sonic gloom that they rain down despair.
-Matt Fink

HYPOCRISY
Virus [Nuclear Blast]
[Fans of Dark Tranquillity, God Dethroned, Immortal and Arch Enemy take note.]

On its tenth studio record, Hypocrisy reclaims its position in the upper tier of the death metal hierarchy by delivering its most vital and balanced effort since 1999's self-titled masterpiece. Into the Abyss (2000) unleashed a relentless whirlwind of straight-up death, but the mainstream sound of 2002's Catch 22 appeared to sound the band's death knell for longtime fans. Peter TŠgtren (singer/guitarist/producer/mastermind) quickly took note and tried to redeem Hypocrisy's name with last year's The Arrival. This attempt felt contrived, its best moments too often recalling past triumphs off Abducted (1996) and The Final Chapter (1997). Virus is the reward fans have been waiting for. New drummer Horgh (Immortal) adds a level of forcefulness that was never so obviously lacking until its appearance ("Warpath"). The thunderous enormity of Hypocrisy's current depth is brilliantly heightened by TŠgtren's most diverse - and deepest - vocals yet ("Let the Knife Do the Talking"). "A Thousand Lies" channels Crowbar-like sludge into a heart-wrenching heroin ode, while "Incised Before I've Ceased" and "Blooddrenched" recall classic Hypocrisy. "Scrutinized" is one of the best songs the band has ever recorded and is sure to become a live anthem. Like the monstrous hatchlings on the cover, Hypocrisy has been reborn.
-Natasha Padilla

INQUISITION
Revolution... I Think It's Called Inspiration [A-F]
[Fans of Strike Anywhere, Avail and Anti-Flag take note.]

Before Strike Anywhere, singer Thomas Barnett tuned his raunchy pipes in a band called Inquisition. Only sticking around for a short time in the mid Ô90s, and featuring other members who went on to play in Ann Beretta and River City High, the band is remembered fondly as an important footnote in the Richmond, Va. scene. One slightly more distant fan of the band, Pat Thetic of A-F Records and Anti-Flag fame, has finally put Inquisition's recorded history back into the psyche of melodic hardcore listeners. Revolution... I Think It's Called Inspiration, Inquisition's only full-length recording, is re-mastered here by perpetual knob-twiddler Alan Douches and given the kind of pow it always deserved. It's positive, punchy punk rock with soaring vocals and stop-on-a-dime change-ups. And, of course, Barnett's outspoken politics were already in fine form. The overwhelming drawback to these songs, however, is the nagging feeling they can never match Barnett's current output with Strike Anywhere. Still, for fans of the dreadlocked one, this is crucial.
-Jason Schreurs

IRON AND WINE/CALEXICO
In the Reins [Touch and Go]
[Fans of Giant Sand, Arlo Guthrie and Ennio Morricone take note.]

Remember the comic book What If... ?, where Marvel always posed those pressing hypothetical questions: "What if the Hulk became The Thing?" or "What if Sub Mariner couldn't swim?" In the music world, we come up with various "what if" scenarios, too. For years, my dream scenario was, "What if Sam Beam of Iron and Wine teamed up with Calexico to record an album?" Never in my wildest imagination would I think it to come true. Well it has, and In the Reins is exactly what you would expect from two accomplished groups. Digging deep into the heart of Americana, these Sam Beam originals were expanded by Calexico, giving his songs an added cinematic depth and dimension while preserving the spirit and compassion. The disc transforms from the Morricone heights of "He Lays in the Reins" and the Stones-esque "History of Lovers" - something that could have easily been on the Exile on Main Street album - to the flickering intimacy of "Dead Man's Will." This is by far some of the best work either act has done.
-Andrew Duncan

CALVIN JOHNSON
Before the Dream Faded... [K]
[Fans of Dub Narcotic Sound System, Beat Happening and the Halobenders take note.]

Unlike Johnson's solo debut What Was Me, where he mostly stood alone with his guitar, Before the Dream Faded... offers a more collaborative effort with various producers and musical talents to help carry the weight. The K Records maestro dominates with his sneering, deep vocal crawl and simplistic guitar riffs, which sometimes just consist of a series of repetitive notes. Draped in a blanket of late-Ô50s and early-Ô60s rock and soul, Before the Dream Faded... is exactly what Johnson does best, as many of these songs will become gems among K Records fans. His lyrical genius shines on songs like "I'm Down" ("I'm down and Lucifer never fell so deep") and the lost love of "When Hearts Turn Blue," basked in the twang of a sitar. From early Beat Happening to the best of the Halobenders, Johnson gives the listener a mouth-watering performance of eclectic lo-fi only he can present.
-Andrew Duncan

JOY ELECTRIC
The Ministry of Archers [Tooth and Nail]
[Fans of OMD, Erasure and The Human League take note.]

Joy Electric is essentially Ronnie Martin, his Moog synthesizer, and his sequencer. In fact, as Martin adamantly states in the CD notes, "there were no computers, samplers, drum machines or traditional instrumentation" utilized in the creation of The Ministry of Archers. And despite the word "ministry" in this CD's title, one strangely finds a whole lot of violent imagery running through Martin's lyrics. For instance, blood bursts in "Become as Murderers," while heart corners are slashed during "A Hatchet, A Hatchet." Martin, who oftentimes sings in a thin, faux-British accent, is no doubt telling some kind of a story via these interrelated songs, but it's hard to connect the dots of his mysterious plot line. He mainly sounds worried here, although "Quite Quieter Than Spiders" brightens the atmosphere considerably with its vintage-sounding Ô80s synth-pop elements. However, unless you're a diehard fan of danceable Moog sounds, Joy Electric will probably be an acquired taste for you. But because Ronnie Martin is just so enthusiastic about all of his chirping, bleeping, and burbling aural creations, it's hard not to fall willingly under his electrified spell.
-Dan MacIntosh

LE TIGRE
This Island Remixes [Chicks On Speed]
[Fans of political dance music and Ô80s-style dance remix albums take note.]

Dance clubs around the world unite as Le Tigre compile remixes from their major-label breakthrough. Two songs saturate this release, regrettably not making this an album remix but brief highlights from This Island. "Nanny Nanny Boo Boo" is up first. Junior Senior unfortunately stays closer to the original, whereas dance music veterans Arthur Baker and Coleman & Spencer tweak up the bass. Craig C lights up the same song with his house rendition, converting these rawkers into the biggest dance party of the night. The other song to permeate this disc is "After Dark," and is decidedly the better song to slice up, as DJs Morel and A Touch of Class successfully do. Peaches naturally goes against the grain and does "T.K.O.," treating the song more like a cover tune than a remix as she sings along to the crunchy guitar loops and perforated synth sounds, a fresh take on an album that could have been better reconstructed.
-Andrew Duncan

THE LOST PATROL BAND
S/T [Burning Heart]
[Noise Conspiracy frontman exorcises his simplistic pop demons, no politics allowed. Fans of catchy and classic radio pop take note.]

The splash sticker, placed in front of the cover picture of this six-piece, announces the disc as the "solo" project from Dennis LyxzŽn. Well, I guess he's the main songwriter or something, Ôcause the other five sure aren't there for their looks. The older Lost Patrol material was excellent, showcasing the (International) Noise Conspiracy vocalist's talents at crafting simple political folk songs. Unfortunately, with this release, the politics are out the window, the intimate atmosphere is gone, and the disc has a horrible Ô80s retro feel. Thing is, this is pretty sincere stuff, created by LyxzŽn's love of power-pop bands of that era, not a fashionable flashback to a time perhaps best left buried. So while most of today's indie hipsters start stupid bands with "the" in their names and continue to make lame music with shitty keyboards while looking like morons, bands like this are gonna kinda be lumped in with that crowd, deserving or not. And, I dunno ... I come to this guy for a good dosage of politics mixed in with the personal lyrics. While he's certainly allowed to avoid the politics for an album, it sure makes it feel like something's missing.
-Greg Pratt

THE MASS
Perfect Picture of Wisdom and Boldness [Crucial Blast]
[Fans of classic Bay Area thrash and the Melvins take note.]

It's easy to shun bands trying to sound metal these days, but then along comes Oakland, Calif.'s The Mass, and all of a sudden emulating metal doesn't feel like such a bad thing. Combining the jilted noise rock of the Melvins and Jesus Lizard with late-Ô80s Bay Area thrash (think Death Angel, Exodus), this four-piece is obviously trying very hard to be a metal band. Which normally sucks. But when it's done so well and with such clear love for the genre, it's easy to come away from Perfect Picture of Wisdom and Boldness with an ear-to-ear smile. The production stamp of Tim Green (The Fucking Champs) has the tendency to turn off metal purists, but this really sounds nothing like Green's forays into quasi-metal. And really, how many current "metal" bands even know who Death Angel is, never mind painstakingly craft the best Bay Area thrash album since The Ultra-Violence? Couple that with The Mass' willingness to make a noisy racket (see the ripping "Gas Pipe"), as well as to experiment with saxophone skronk, and maybe all that talk about the future of metal is more than just needless gum-flapping.
-Jason Schreurs

MESSER CHUPS
Crazy Price [Ipecac]
[Fans of Man or Astroman? and surfed-out Fant™mas take note.]

Leave it to Ipecac to release a record by an instrumental surf band whose members are purportedly former Russian KGB agents. Perhaps this might fool the same folks who believe the members of Brujeria are working for the Mexican mafia, but keener cats will probably just assume Ipecac co-owner Mike Patton has something to do with this crazy batch of Russian/German musical terrorists. That is, something more than just being bold enough to release their album. But whether Patton has his fingers in this demented pie or not, it sure is an enthralling listen. Some of the tunes on here (such as "Sex Euro and Evils Pop" and "SuperSonik Vibrator") sound as if Man or Astroman? came down from the stratosphere long enough to down some vodka and hit the Russian surf. Except no sane person surfs in Russia, and if they do it must be fucking freezing. All of this furthers the theory that Patton and secret collaborators concocted the album in some San Francisco recording studio, completely without the aid of Russian spies. Got a better answer?
-Jason Schreurs

NADA SURF
The Weight Is a Gift [Barsuk Records]
[Fans of The Beach Boys, Fountains Of Wayne and The Shins take note.]

Due to its abundance of catchy melodies, Nada Surf's The Weight Is a Gift is enjoyable from the first spin. Produced by Death Cab For Cutie's Christopher Walla, this delightful collection is also highlighted by thoughtful lyrics and an overall summer-y feel, amounting to what can only be described as (Nada) surf music. Tracks range from the explicitly profane "Blankest Year," which features the CD's rocking-est electric guitar moments, to the subdued beauty of "Your Legs Grow," which brings to mind Nick Drake. But in all settings, vocalist/guitarist Matthew Caws finds ways to make his rock music still sound pretty. With "Comes a Time" (which is not that old Neil Young song, by the way), atmospheric guitars lend a colorful shimmer. Elsewhere with "Armies Walk," layered vocal shadings are what stand out most. While Caws isn't always the most positive guy in the world, he's not without hope. For instance, "Concrete Bed" reiterates the truism "To find someone you love / You've gotta be someone you love." It took a few years for Nada Surf to bless us again with a new CD, but since absence makes the heart grow fonder, this particular wait has been a gift.
-Dan MacIntosh

NURAL
The Weight of the World [Hopeless]
[Fans of Over It and Veda take note.]

I suppose it doesn't bode well when one critiquing an album ponders a decidedly stupid question about the band's moniker rather than the actual music contained within. And so it was, on occasion, whilst listening to Nural's The Weight of the World. Not from the onset, mind you, but as the record progressed, my brain definitely wandered at certain points - and into pretty ridiculous territory. To wit, after the initial blast of the opener "Tension," a meaty, aggressive rock song, more of a pop sensibility comes into play with subsequent tracks "Chasing You" and radio-friendly "The Curse," which present a safer, bouncier, blasŽ style. And this is when a seemingly more pressing matter surfaced: Nural ... Was that the effeminate gray cat who annoyed the hell out of our hero Garfield? (Turns out it's "Nermal.") But this lapse proved momentary, as Nural comes back a bit stronger with the tougher "Lukewarm" before totally switching things up midway through the album, incorporating piano and orchestral flourishes and slower tempos; lighter, moodier, melancholy fare ("The Root of All Evil," "Forgive Me," etc.) revealing the band's maturity as songwriters. So, though the album's a bit uneven, Nural exhibits good musicianship and a willingness to mix styles and tones.
-Janelle Jones

THE OCCASION
Cannery Hours [Say Hey Records]
[Fans of The Velvet Underground, Interpol and The Dears take note.]

Could someone please get word to the members of The Occasion that if they'd just stop taking themselves so seriously, they might be a bit more, like, accessible? Out of all the pompous, overwrought press bios I've read, The Occasion's continues to take the cake. "Have you ever witnessed a twilight that lingered so long you almost forgot there was still night to follow?" "5 bodies, 10 hands, one monolith of sound that is not soon forgotten"? Are you kidding me? Get over yourself right now. Pompous impressions aside, I'm not afraid to say The Occasion has something to offer. The lyrics, brought to life by a trio of singers, are heartfelt and the quiet, unassuming music is a dreamy concoction of those - it nearly irks me to say it - talented 10 hands. Tracks like "Register My Complaints" are highlights, where everything really comes together and proves itself as something to watch out for. But please, skip the press bio before you spin this disc; it may taint your first impressions.
-Ashley Graham

STELLASTARR*
Harmonies for the Haunted [RCA]
[Fans of the Ô80s, the Doors, and easy-on-the-ears unoriginality take note.]

The big promotional pushes behind a hundred lame bands on MTV are understandable when you realize powerful music executives really do think creative art is reducible to mathematical formulas, completely missing the point when they look at, say, Franz Ferdinand and hear nothing more than Adam and the Ants plus the Pixies. It's easy to dismiss this as philistinism, but sometimes mathematics can be a good thing: Stellastarr*'s A&R team weren't at all wrong when they stumbled upon Shawn Christensen's Jim Morrison imitation and decided it was eminently marketable if only he'd take it and multiply by the sum of Alex Kapranos and Brandon Flowers. Yes, this New York four-piece rarely has anything to offer that you haven't heard before, but still "Love and Longing" is the best recent song of its kind that wasn't on Hot Fuss. And every so often, perhaps even by accident, the band stumbles into something really special, like album opener "Lost in Time," which sounds a little like Echo and the Bunnymen doing a rather wicked and spot-on parody of the Smiths. I bet it's a blast to hear these guys live, and you'll never be sad when their songs pop up in your iPod's shuffle. Long live math!
-Steven Hanna

SUPER FURRY ANIMALS
Love Kraft [XL]
[Fans of Gorky's Zygotic Mynci, The Kinks and Pink Floyd take note.]

While all bands are due for a change in formula by their seventh release, overtures toward ensuring each band member has song contributions to an album is usually a sign that they've exhausted their creative resources. Love Kraft is a startling exception. With lead singer and songwriter Gruff Rhys splitting songwriting duties with three of his bandmates, this happens to be the most eclectic and well-rounded album in the Super Furry Animals' distinguished catalogue. The epic "Zoom" sets a perfectly enveloping tone for what follows, opening with swirling minor chord changes, blasts of space rock fuzz, and a 100-member Catalan choir. The gospel-tinged, string-touched balladry of "Atomik Lust" follows, one of the most wearily lilting arrangements they've recorded, with only unexpected bursts of spectral guitar to break the somnolent mood. Probably their least political album, the songs sigh with resignation and disillusionment, from the wistfully bubbling "Back on a Roll" to the string-laded soul groove of "Walk You Home." Overall, it probably doesn't reach the dizzying heights of their most ambitious work, but taken as a whole, it's the most straightforward and thoroughly balanced album they've done, arguably the first album that proves a band isn't only as strong as its main songwriter.
-Matt Fink

VARIOUS ARTISTS
We Reach: The Music of the Melvins [Fractured Transmitter]
[Fans of the Melvins and, uh, the Melvins take note.]

I agree with Ipecac Recordings co-owner Greg Werckman, who penned the frank liner notes for upstart label Fractured Transmitter's We Reach: The Music of the Melvins. Tribute albums usually do kinda suck. But when the band being paid tribute is none other than Seattle/San Fran's kings of heavy, the Melvins, everything changes. Let's face it: It's pretty tough to fuck up a Melvins song. Those mammoth riffs, the off-kilter vocals and time signatures, and a guitar sound to die for. It explains why notables such as The Dillinger Escape Plan, Mastodon, Isis, and High on Fire decided to pay homage to a band that obviously inspired them along the way. But the true test of a successful tribute album is when questionable inclusions like Dog Fashion Disco, CKY, and Strapping Young Lad don't embarrass themselves in the company of far superior bands. Yes, only a song by the Melvins could make Strapping Young Lad actually sound good (their version of "Zodiac" is one of the most kick-ass tracks on here).
-Jason Schreurs

WOLF PARADE
Apologies to the Queen Mary [Sub Pop]
[Fans of Modest Mouse, The Shins and Destroyer take note.]

After two ballyhooed EPs, Wolf Parade's long-anticipated debut has finally arrived. Produced by Modest Mouse mainman Isaac Brock and with a very airy, lively feel to it, Apologies to the Queen Mary will most certainly please anyone who's convinced that the Montreal music scene can do no wrong. Minus the hype this album will inevitably face, however, it is an assuredly entertaining and emotional indie pop record made by British Columbia transplants who actually sound like they absorbed plenty of the local flavor before they moved to Montreal. Their baroque, faintly English form of skewed rock features guitars that sound like keyboards and keyboards that sometimes sound like guitars. Songs alternately wobble and meander like Modest Mouse, or plow straight ahead with the New Pornographers' sense of '60s pop self-assurance. Most importantly, Wolf Parade seem to understand exactly what's necessary to craft an interesting song, whether it's long and morose ("Dinner Bells," "Same Ghost Every Night") or short and crafty ("You Are a Runner and I Am My Father's Son," "We Built Another World"). And for that fact alone, perhaps they deserve the hype.
-Adem Tepedelen

WOODEN WAND & THE VANISHING VOICE
Buck Dharma [5RC]
[Fans of a really, really pissed-off Devendra Banhart take note.]

Wooden Wand is a messed-up, really slow folk-goth ensemble whose arid arrogance comes from their detailed arrangements rather than their melody. They concentrate on slow sliding bass lines and squealing guitar noodles. Their fuzz is fussy, descending upon ascending chords like old cars leaping the hilly highways of San Francisco. They sing about sinners and seem stuck on non-denominational spiritualism. Their singers have that breathless love-and-dada thing down cold; a softly heaving, agitated freakout littered with femme narcotized harmonies behind their boy/girl vocals, voices that sound like Perry Farrell and Grace Slick singing into toilet paper rolls. For all their creepy-crawling, theirs is a surprisingly tight wound, one filled with cautious but intricate instrumentation; delicate, even. You could hate them for their sound and attitude and distance. They have a boozier, angrier quality about them than most of their new-psychedelic ilk. Nothing blissed-out here. Rather, it's gauzy. But a bandage filled with old blood and pus.
-A.D. Amorosi

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