Assaf Tager accrues accolades like no one else you've probably never heard of; not only is the man an acclaimed musician in Israel, but he's played guitar for Elliott Smith, opened shows for Devendra Benhart, and is on the verge of playing lead in a Coca-Cola/iTunes campaign. Katamine is the moniker for Tager's acoustic project, and Lag is its second installment. Lag could have almost been created and recorded by a lone Tager in his bedroom, but producer Wharton Tiers (Sonic Youth, Nick Cave, etc.) elevates the songs to a crisp (not slick) level of coherency. Tager's guitar and voice are all these songs need, though guests crop up here and there to implement the minimal amount of extra instrumentation. Sounding like an freak-folk meets Elliott Smith acolyte without the pop inclination, Tager glumly wades through his own emotional discourse only to find a brighter, more engaging resolution waiting on the other side. Opting out of choruses and hooks make Lag an alienated listen, and Tager's abstract, almost free-form lyrical and singing styles don't make the record an easy one to swallow. "Junior Buddha" sees Tager implementing some Either/Or-ish songwriting, while closer "Someone Came Around" is simple, pretty acoustic folk. In between, the tracks are morose and mysterious, some sounding too much like the others, and rarely capricious. The rest of the band is barely audible when present, or they're just not doing enough to take the immediate focus away from Tager. Lag sometimes feels too sparse for its own good, but it's still got a few gems hidden in its mist. [www.katamine.org]

Dead FM marks Strike Anywhere’s debut for punk rock giant Fat Wreck Chords, and sees the Richmond melodic hardcore quintet culling a more accessible, albeit not radio-friendly fashion. The group’s third LP maintains its roots to highly political, anthem-ready hardcore, and while Dead FM does little in the creativity department, it’s another installment in the rallying cries of today’s underground scene. Not long ago, I was discussing Dead FM with a friend of mine, and his opinion was something along the lines of Strike Anywhere being one of those bands you can listen to and they’ll always remind you of your first venture into the world of punk rock. At least, that’s for us who reached that sacred land in our teenage years, when Fat Mike was God, we didn’t need The Clash because we had Rancid, and Operation Ivy were forebears for anything worth hearing. That’s not so much the sentiment held after growing up a little bit, but I knew what my friend meant to say—Strike Anywhere is a constant. You know what to expect from the band, like you know what to expect from most of the band’s peers. Musical adventurism isn’t on the agenda, but good times, sing-alongs and left-winged fist-pumping certainly are. As a lyricist, Thomas Barnett has matured, and includes explanations on some of his songs in the liner notes. Opener “Sedition” is about Barnett’s grandfather’s involvement in The Manhattan Project and the effects it has had on the singer’s family since, while “House Arrest” chronicles the detainment of Barnett and his friends in a Japanese border-crossing incident. On the musical end, Strike Anywhere does little to differentiate Dead FM from anything in its past, save for songwriting that’s catchier, especially “Prisoner Echoes”, which probably has the most memorable chorus that the band has ever written. Strike Anywhere is a band to be praised for its progressive politics and heart, but at the end of the day Dead FM just sounds a whole lot like Change is a Sound and Exit English. On a positive note though, it’s not a step back. [www.fatwreck.com]

“Duper Sessions” is a freewheeling collection of jaunty love songs and melancholy musings that may be best complemented by sipping wine by a glowing fireplace on a rainy day. This very quality makes it a perfect mood-setter, but may keep it from heavy rotation in your everyday listening. In the “Sessions,” Sondre Lerche takes a jazzy detour from his last two albums, and creates an identity for his backing musicians, the “faces down quartet.” It should be noted that the detour isn’t a large one; rather, Lerche explores a tangent existent in his previous work and pays homage to some of his influences, trumpeter and singer Chet Baker being one. Most of the songs are originals imbibing the spirit of jazz greats, but there is a smattering of covers including Cole Porter and Elvis Costello. The album is hit and miss- ‘Minor Detail’ is a beautiful, wistful crooner, ‘Night and Day’ is a somewhat pedestrian take on the Cole Porter classic- but it deserves a permanent spot in your music collection. “Duper Sessions” has something of an iconic quality, whether borrowed or earned, and illustrates how good things can happen when artists break from the mold (even if slightly) and have a bit of fun. [www.sondrelerche.com]

Many people forget that entertainment is also an art. When a person takes an art too seriously, suchas music, looking for something groundbreaking or extraordinary they often miss the "fun" of it. In recent weeks, Say Hi to Your Mom have had the distinct honor of getting a failing grade on the likes of Pitchfork for their particular band of "mediocre indie rock". However, that's the last you'll see me mention another review here. Say Hi to Your Mom's Impeccable Blahs has an entertaining relationship between voice and instrumentals. I dare you to listen to the album opener "These Fangs" (which you can either find at their Myspace or their official website-where you can download a few songs and stream the entire album) or "Blah Blah Blah" and not let the drums go to your head, neck, legs, until you start to walk around and can't help moving with the music. The aforementioned interesting relationship is really that the music, a great meld of "robots" and instruments (now that Say Hi to Your Mom has been a true band since 2005), develop this catchy sound (especially percussion) that won't leave your subconscious alone without a fight. While this upbeat sound will make the mind-rhythm-body connection ever the more clear, the vocals-mostly provided by the band's founder, Eric-along with what the close-minded might call morbid lyrics, provide this feeling that he's secretly telling you something very ominous, something that's been a struggle to get out in the open for a while now. Although this is an entertaining combination, don't think they've carved themselves into a predictable, albeit excellent pattern. Because in the literal middle of the album, the end of the fifth track "She Just Happens to Date the Prince of Darkness" they digress into an instrumental build-up to keep you off balance and questioning "what exactly are they?". While this may not be some masterpiece calling for a dissection, it's a work of art that will entertain you listen after listen. [www.sayhitoyourmom.com]

Ben Nichols and Lucero have managed to escape the Uncle Tupelo and Replacements comparisons by now. Playing the role of a band that's shared between three markedly different demographics--the indie kids, the punk scene, and the No Depression crowd--the Memphis-based quartet has brazenly flaunted its haggard alt-country for the majority of the '00s. Further distancing itself from the "alternative country" tag for a southern rock panache, Lucero let Rebels, Rogues & Sworn Brothers take its sound into a more fully-realized sound. The production feels thicker and more at ease with itself, and the result is a record that isn't as immediately memorable but enjoys more thorough instrumentation and songwriting. While Nobody's Darlings was a great record, it had a reoccuring feeling of sameness. Rebels is yet another album regaling listeners with Nichols' memories of heartbreak, whiskey and longing for Tennessee--themes native to Lucero's music. But instead of letting his lyrics become caricatures, Nichols' pen-work this time is loaded with more intimate detail and vivid storytelling. In "Cass," the title character is a free-spirited, half-bred beauty, but we're never privy to the tale's actual existence. Nichols' writing drifts in and out of reality, with stories that are plausible as fact or fiction, birthed as likely from experience as from imagination. "Sing Me No Hymns" is a sinner's admission, the country boy's preference of beer over Bible, a crunchy guitar riff carrying the song into the deepest and darkest of places. Living up to its expectations in sound and quality, Rebels, Rogues & Sworn Brothers keeps the good ol' boys of Lucero on a progressive path. [www.luceromusic.com]

The Minor Leagues. The term carries a connotation of something not in its prime--too old, too young, but not in any way at a pinnacle. The same goes for the record's ominous title But, they're merely names and aren't intended to foreshadow contents. The Pestilence is Coming is the work of these Elephant 6-minded Cincinnati natives, allowing for an astonishing number of musicians (42, to be exact) to play on the team for the game's length of 51 minutes. Recorded and produced by members of The Minor Leagues in an attic, refined over a period of three years, and garnering the band comparisons to Ray Davies and Phil Spector, The Pestilence is Coming is intricate and charming, though sometimes innocuosly (like so many of its peers) prone to the now-requisite handclaps and brass and all that jazz. But, when it's on, it's definitely on, and there's not much "minor" about The Minor Leagues. There's a lot going on in The Pestilence is Coming. Of course, the 42 aforementioned musicians aren't simultaneously present; it would be a sweet experiment to initiate some kind of orchestral movement on the DIY level, but those attic recording sessions don't give much in the way of seating and ventilation. Loaded with multitudinous instrumentation and a concept of love and French Canadians, Pestilence ranges from kazoo to screaming vocals to gongs and bagpipes. Individual tracks needn't be pulled apart here, but Brian Eno and Belle & Sebastian could find solace and good times in The Pestilence is Coming, and the Olivia Tremor Control would find one of its most worthy successors to the world of elaborate indie-pop. [www.datawaslost.com]

Right from the first track, "A Sea Chanty of Sorts," it's clear that Margot & the Nuclear So and So's have a flair for both the dramatic and the erratic. Their rich, textured sound is at times anciently instrumental and powerful, at others, mechanically rhythmic and synthetically modern. A pair of haunting, siren-like voices that hum through the reverberations anchor the piece. Transitioning into "Skeleton Key," it's suddenly anchors aweigh as the album shifts into kitsch rock. The mysterious playfulness of the rhythm remains throughout the many shifts, held together by Richard Edwards’ poetic lyrics: “Love is an inkless pen/it’s a tavern, it’s sin/it’s a horrible way to begin.” I find myself inescapably comparing this group to The Charlatans; these are storytelling singers who aren’t afraid to chart a path across unsullied waters. At the same time, songs like “Quiet as a Mouse” seem like they could be one of Coldplay’s guitar ballads, tinkering electronic keyboard and all. They just need to be careful: sometimes they grow more intellectual than emotional, and all the smart musical tricks in the world can’t stop them from overthinking a song to death. “Jen is Bringing the Drugs” is an excellent urban folk song, but it’s so scaled that it begins to lose its potency. (The excellent production values and spot-on segues do help keep things rolling somewhat-merrily along.) Be glad for the songs like “Barfight Revolution, Power Violence” that serve as a reminder that this group can work the harder rhythms just as lightly as they slam the softer ones. Margot & the Nuclear So and So's work better with the strange than the humane – Jesse Lee's exquisite cello and Andy Fry's chilling use of the melodica makes all the difference on a song like "Dress me like a clown." It allows the band to become a collective, musical art project, rather than just another generic group that's experimenting. And nothing can prepare you for "Paper Kitten Nightmare," a song that turns a chorus of meows into a trippy medley of beats that range from light rock to angst-driven jazz. Talent, rhythm, words—this group has it all. Now they just need to find a way to draw people to their little home on the fringe; but if any hookless band can do it, they can. [www.margotandthenuclearsoandsos.com]

Hailing from one of the ever-extending branches of the Elephant 6 tree can be unnerving; on one hand, there's an unspoken but understood history that isn't to be tarnished. On the other, there's the mentality that the unofficial label has a defined market, and that kids into the '60s pop-aping regulars like Of Montreal and The Apples in Stereo will gobble up anything coming from that line. So yeah, Casper & the Cookies are yet another Athens indie-pop band. A tag worn with pride, certainly, but not one that's easily done justice. Coming from a scene that bred The Olivia Tremor Control, Elf Power and Of Montreal (and a slew of others) seems to have put relatively little pressure on erudite songwriter Jason NeSmith (Casper), who's got enough bounce and hooks to have Kevin Barnes and Bob Schneider scrambling to re-evaluate their record collections. The Optimist's Club finds NeSmith and Kay Stanton both putting hands in the creative process. "Krötenwanderung" is Stanton's fuzzy daydream of an opener, tactfully lulling but not bubbly. "Kiss a Friend" is one of the record's most immediate tracks--NeSmith works his magical melodies over and over again, but trying to get this one out of your head will be an act in futility. Birds and New York City are recurring themes, and if you take the time to piece together the lyrics, you'll apparently stumble upon the story of two friends turned lovers on a trip to the Big Apple. Surrealist/Dadaist Marcel DuChamp is remembered on the lazy, brassed-out "DuChamp's Camera," while "Sid From Central Park" and "Learn How to Disappear" are the token bright-eyed, innocent slabs of harmonized sunshine that seem to be what's expected of Athens bands, but never wears out its welcome. The Optimist's Club excels on multiple levels in that it's meticulously produced (not meaning overproduced, mind you), incorporating various techniques and sounds that only the studio-savvy of us will pick up (I'm not among them). But for all its complexity and niceties, Casper & the Cookies sophomore record is just really excellent, ornate pop music, regardless of whether or not their Athens brethren are there for the comparisons. [www.hhbtm.com]

Tokyo, Japan’s Polysics makes no bones about their major musical influences, or should I say, influence; singular. That influence is Devo. The band unabashedly professes their love and admiration for Devo--they even dress in Devo jumpsuits with the word "POLY" sewn on where "Devo" would be, and at first glance Polysics seem little more than a tribute band. But for main disciple Hayashi, and his fellow bandmates, Devo’s aesthetic is just a launching point. Polysics is like a Bizzaro World version of Devo--imagine an alternate universe where Devo came out of Japan in the late '90s rather than Akron, Ohio in the late '70s. In this alternate reality, the Spartan and robotic elements of Devo battle the ultra-frenetic elements of J-Rock for musical dominance; and the J-Rock side usually wins. True, Polysics’ songs are usually built around sci-fi synthesized pulses by band members that play their instruments with dead-pan expressions on their faces, like their American musical heroes did; but lead singer/guitarist/band leader Hayashi’s thrashy guitar style provides a strong juxtaposition to his bandmates' robotic stoicisms. No robot he; Hiroyuki Hayashi instead plays the J-Rock--rockstar with the exuberance of a kid air-guitaring his little heart out--jumping around the stage, hitting all the classic stances of guitar heroes, past and present. After repeated listenings it becomes apparent that Hayashi and the rest of the band has been listening to more than just Devo. Fragmentary references to kraut-rock, Talking Heads, The Knack, girl-group Motown, and surf guitar flows effortlessly from the band and their wacky enthusiasm is infectious. This wacky enthusiasm has earned the band’s live performances an already legendary reputation that turns casual listeners and the curious into fans. Any chance to see Polysics is highly recommended. To get a sense of Polysics’ shows, check out their videos. A good little collection can be found here. Listeners that haven’t been exposed to other Japanese bands such as Space Streakings, the Boredoms, Melt Banana, and the like, may find Now Is The Time a bit hard to swallow at first, but Polysics is worth the effort. [www.polysics.com]

Analyzing any album is difficult. The latest album from the British trio is no different. Following their widely popular album Absolution, Muse's fifth album explores a distinctly more synthetic sound. Opening with an undulating electronic orchestra and ending with “Knights of Cydonia”, a single with sentiments of the Wild West, the message is difficult to decipher. That is, until you hear the lyrics. Politically charged songs (and song titles) unite the album in all its techno glory. “Cast a spell on the country you run/and risk, you will risk/you will risk all their lives and their souls/and burn, you will burn/you will burn in hell for your sins.” Other songs are less obviously aggressive, however, perhaps because of the infectious beats produced by drummer Dominic Howard. “Starlight”, for example, starts off as an '80s throwback--completely danceable and carefree. Then the eponymous lyrics segue into a ballad, keeping things interesting. Their third track “Supermassive Black Hole” is truly unexpected. It is--in a word--cool. Rock with falsetto? Freddy Mercury was a master, and Matthew Bellamy (lead singer/guitarist) proves to be a suitable understudy. And then, “Maps of the Problematique” appears. If “Starlight” is danceable, then “Maps” is laughable. A ring tone in the making, and an influence the album could do without. The album continues, less impressively, until “Assassin.” A veritable Headbanger’s Ball, Matthew’s voice literally soars over the well-grounded bass line produced by Chris Wolstenholme. Thus continues the album, with incredibly complex songs like “City of Delusion” and “Hoodoo.” The fact that Muse couples Arabic and Spanish influences into modern rock successfully reaffirms their undeniable talent. Muse creates imagery in each of their songs, and the passion within their work is evident. An analysis of this album proves only this--Black Holes & Revelations deserves to be listened to. Maybe even more than once. [www.muse.mu]

Oh, Nina, sweet Nina, you've left us high, dry, and unsatisfied for six long years. Yes, it has been exactly six years since the release of your solo debut, Tonight and the Rest of My Life. Well, the wait is over, the album is here, and so now is the time to see what six years has done for you, Miss Gordon. 2000's Tonight saw a departure from Gordon's material with the '90s alt-rock outfit Veruca Salt. The album was high gloss and sweet, with crunchy, shimmering guitar tracks playing backup to large, melancholy melodies and poetry. It was more pop than rock, more mainstream than alternative. Gordon's follow-up, the just released Bleeding Heart Graffiti illustrates that even long passages of time need not change an artist's appetite and vision for song craft. Bleeding Heart Graffiti tells of a relationship from start to bitter finish, with heavy emphasis on the latter aspect. Two songs near the beginning of the album, the superb "Christmas Lights" and the first single, "Kiss Me 'Til It Bleeds," depict the relationship in its beginning stages. Later tracks like "Watercolors" (perhaps the album's best track) and "When You Don't Want Me Anymore" illustrate the dissolution of the relationship and the emotional fallout that marks most of songs on this record. Gordon describes the tone of the record's concept best in "Watercolors" when she sings, "I'm happiest when I'm blue." And therein lays one of Gordon's biggest strengths as a songwriter: the ability to seamlessly mesh pain and happiness through songwriting. Three short interludes are evenly dispersed throughout the record. These seem to act as story cues, directing listeners to critical changes in the relationship. All three tracks fit in well with the sound of the record, but they are too short and therefore do not offer up enough substance. Instead, listeners may be left wondering why, despite the fact that all of the songs sound similar enough, some tracks stand out because of their inappropriate (read: short) length. Musically, Gordon sticks with what she does best: catchy melodies that can, at once, sound both cheerful and heart-crushing. Save the three interlude tracks on the record, any song has the potential to work as a single. Clearly Gordon has found a formula that works for her skills and her voice, and she is not afraid to stick to it. Bleeding Heart Graffiti is not the kind of music that rock purists will salivate over. Its themes are not particularly fresh. Its sound would not be called raw. The album's strengths are in its strong songwriting and in its indulgence in beautifully sweet-voiced pop melodies. This album will not change the world or push boundaries, but it is a well-crafted glimpse into the relatable predicament of getting burned by love. Obviously, Gordon took her time recording this record, but equally obvious is the fact that her time was well spent. [www.ninagordon.com]

“Hey you! Turn up the lights! (Crowd cheers) “Everyone look at the guy in the long sleeved shirt. See ‘em? This guy is a total cock smoker. Aren’t you? He’s throwin’ shit at me – I’ve tried to come here five times and he’s throwin’ shit at me!” (Crowd Boos) “Now it’s not just me and you who know you’re a fucking asshole, it’s everybody.” (Crowd cheers ravenously) Every rock star’s idealized revenge, thy name is Josh Homme. And if you were considering purchasing this DVD, sorry, I just ruined the best part. I probably should have included a spoiler warning somewhere. Oh well. Fact is, if you’re not already a fan of the QOTSA, this collection will not likely convert you. It’s just rotted old concert footage roughly spliced together. Quiet boring, really. You’ll find yourself tuning in and out throughout, and picking at truly stupid things. Like how each member of the band looks like he belongs in a different band. And genre. For example, guitarist Troy Van Leeuwen dresses like he got kicked out of Interpol. Bassist Alain Johannes, on the other hand, looks like an Eddie Vedder enthusiast. Man, do they need a stylist. But one thing’s for damn sure: this 2-disc scrapbook is really fucking comprehensive. The bonus features are a real treat, including footage of the band performing “The Bronze” (from their 1998 self-titled EP) in what looks like a high school gym, complete with a malfunctioning smoke machine. Oh, and the cover art deserves an honorable mention – it’s a kinky little “Q” that looks suspiciously like sperm penetrating an egg. If you’ve seen the video for “Go with the Flow,” this should come as no surprise. Overall, this thing scrapes by with a passing grade. It would make a great X-mas present for that hardcore QOTSA fan in your life. I’d also recommend it as pleasant background music for when you’re doing algebra homework. Or entertaining guests with a game of naked Scrabble. Hey, you think that guy in the long sleeved shirt survived the parking lot? Me neither. [www.qotsa.com]

DIY success Matchbook Romance originally formed in 1997, under the moniker The Getaway, and gained exposure via unsigned band sites like MP3.com. The Gateway quickly built a following in their native Northeast. When an Epitaph’s Brett Gurewitz (of Bad Religion fame) heard The Gateway’s demo on Punknews.org, the band was whisked from NY, to California to sign a contract. It was due to legal issues that the band changed names, becoming Matchbook Romance. Comparable to Yellowcard, Rufio, and Taking Back Sunday, Matchbook Romance has hints of Muse, and the Alkaline Trio, mixed to a frothy foam of morose pianos and swelling guitar riffs. Voices, MR’s fourth official release, follows the 2003 full-length Stories and Alibis, and EP West for Wishing , and a 2004 album split with the band Motion City Soundtrack. Voices, released on Valentine’s Day 2006, starts off with a mellow piano interlude which gives way to the melodic soundscape of “You Can Run But We’ll Find You.” Singer Andrew Jordan’s rich, melancholic voice weaves in and out of the music. The next track, “Surrender,” picks up the pace of the album, which continues to escalate with “My Mannequin Can Dance,” which kicks off with thick metal guitar riffs, and triumphant lead guitar. By the fifth track, “Monsters,” the album has hit it’s stride. The most radio friendly track on the album, “Monsters” is catchy, intense, and driven. Voices runs the gamut of rock music, from ballads to forceful anthems. The album, as a whole is well written and well produced. Voices marks the MR’s push forward, from emo-sensibilities, into full-force rock. The emotion on this album stretches from anger to loneliness, regret, deception, and anger. Needless to say this is another good album for bad break-ups. [www.matchbookromance.com]

There are only a few breathing souls who can honestly boast that at some point in their lives they were the coolest damn dudes on the planet. Some of them earned that badge of honor by dunking basketballs and throwing touchdowns. Other "cool" guys have had no use for athletic arenas, and only have needed leather jackets, cigarettes and sunglasses to remind the world how much cooler they were than us. But the coolness of some of the most beloved celebrities of the 20th century is harder to understand. David Bowie is such an enigma. He was glamorous, pretty and fashionable. He wasn't the kind of guy you'd think could help you if you were jumped by the schoolyard bully. But there was still something about him that made everyday Joes want to be him. A DVD recording from his Serious Moonlight tour is a testament to Bowie's erstwhile coolness. By this point in his career, Bowie had thrown away the pink hair dye and the ass-hugging spandex. His on-stage attire included only a smashing blueberry suit. But even without these gimmicks that defined the early stages of his career, he still was able to level every member of the audience. Bowie draws from a catalogue of bonafide classics on this one -- "China Girl," "Young Americans," "Heroes," "Let's Dance" and "Rebel," to name a few. The bizarre antics of the back-up vocalists are a distraction throughout the concert, but they do not detract from Bowie's performance. He is at the top of his game from the opening chord to the encore -- and his charisma, creativity and on-stage energy all are things that any music fan should be be able to enjoy. And if you're throwing an 80s party anytime soon, you'd be well served to have this thing playing in the background all night long. Let's dance!! [www.davidbowie.com]

John Roderick's songwriting, in the past, has been delicately innocuous; last year's Ultimatum EP offered a handful of endearing and introspective quiet moments, scattered through sparkling acoustic numbers and a heart-wrenching title track. The Long Winters' third LP delivers a rocking side that was only half-present in the past, and further establishes Roderick as one of this generation's most consistent and impressive songwriters. As a writer, Roderick emulates the stylings of '60s pop and '70s power-pop, in addition to pulling bits and piececs from iconic '90s indie rockers. Unlike many of his peers, however, Roderick lacks the ability (or desire) to sing charmingly in a high register, and instead asserts himself with enthusiastic mid-range vocalizing. Relationships with the fairer sex once again crop up as a primary lyrical subject, though in an endearing, detached way. My initial response to the tracklisting for Putting the Days to Bed was questioning whether or not a reworked "Ultimatum" could rise above and beyond its original version from last year's EP. If you're wondering--it doesn't. That is, if the original sounded like one of the sweetest, most tear-jerkingly tracks that would make your ex take you back if said ex had even the slightest hint of a heart. The sparseness is replaced with a full band onslaught, with some of the lyrical sentiment lost to excessive (though admirable) instrumentation. "Pushover" sounds like Joe Pernice and Alex Chilton set out to write a track together, winding classic pop structure with a melodramatic lead-in to its cascading climax. "Teaspoon" adds a brass element, though the lines aren't as memorable as Roderick's repetition of the song's title. "Sky is Open" pulls a drum machine from nowhere, lending a modicum of harshness to the group's typically harmless sound, but Roderick delves into fluffy harmonies and twinkling keys almost immediately. Though it doesn't live up to the high expectations its preceding EP had built, Putting the Days to Bed still warrants its share of critical praise. Roderick's mastery of songcraft is nigh on perfection, but he's got a few more boulders to climb to reach the pinnacle. [www.barsuk.com]

I’m not usually one to pick up on a new song from hearing it on the radio or television. Not lately anyway. It’s not an elitist thing- I haven’t had a radio in my ‘vehicle’ for a while, where historically I’ve done most of my listening, and, I don’t watch a hell of a lot of tv. People in Planes broke new ground with me: I first heard them on a late night talk show, Jimmy Kimmel Live. They performed “If you talk to much (my head will explode),” and I was taken with both the song and the band’s performance, which I will describe as youthfully energetic and convincing. At least I was convinced, or curious, or just pretty tired and easily swayed. Fast forward a month or so, and I’m on my way to see them as part of an all-day rock ‘festival’ and I use the quotes because the occasion was a few steps short of festive. Backed up concert traffic caused me to miss their set (scheduled to play first, wouldn’t you know) and just about every other act I had come to see. Go figure. Unfortunately, waiting for hours on the interstate was the best part of the day, but that’s another story. Let’s just say that that the band I DIDN’T miss was Seether. Sigh. So I’ve spent some time with the album, As Far as the Eye can See, and it’s a pretty satisfying dose of music with a few creative twists and turns built around an otherwise straightforward approach to Brit rock. Laden with guitar effects, the sound is thick and crunchy. However, rather than peal out with blistering solos, People in Planes prefers to float into starry soundscapes and climb back out again. It’s rather nice actually. The lyrics are good enough- and this may be the waiting in traffic talking- sometimes while striving for Radiohead they come off more like Silverchair. When the words do catch up to the chords, a winner is in hand. [www.peopleinplanes.com]

The Minders released their debut album Hooray For Tuesday in 1998. Since then, everything they do is measured by how it lives up to that collection of songs; it’s such a perfect pop album that any band would have difficulty matching it. Certain tracks throughout their career have threatened to knock the triumphant, horn-blowing “Hooray For Tuesday” off of its pedestal. Older songs like “Build” and “Black Balloon” are The Minders at their most simple and pure and more recent songs like the striking “Young and With It” still resonate years later. The Minders have never had a problem writing a great pop song; they just never seem to be able to release a whole album’s worth of them. Their latest release, It’s a Bright, Guilty World, finds Martyn Leaper (The Minders’ premiere singer songwriter) at his most proficient and deliberate since HFT. The album’s overall sound is very similar to the style of other Elephant Six bands and offshoots such as the Apples In Stereo and the High Water Marks. These bands all tend to sound as if they’ve been swapping effects pedals. It's a Bright ,Guilty World includes classic, pop songs such as “Don’t You Stop” (featuring a stirring lead guitar line) and “Jenny” that are so catchy and delightful that you feel as if they’ve been playing in your head forever. Alongside these pop gems are other more introspective, thorough tracks that take their time materializing, like “In The Middle of Your Love” and “Remember, Remember”. With the inclusion of such songs it’s evident that Leaper is becoming a more well-rounded and sophisticated songwriter. Musically, lyrically, and intellectually The Minders are finally gaining the momentum and drive fans have been yearning for since the great and wonderful Hooray For Tuesday. [www.theminders.com]

#3, the third release from Suburban Kids with Biblical Names, boasts the highest production value yet. Since SKWBN record everything at home this isn't saying much to the Phil Collins types out there. The value of the actual songs is, in this writer's opinion, downright amazing. Suburban Kids with Biblical Names are young Swedes, Johan Hedberg and Peter Gunnarsson. The band formed in late 2003 and has since been releasing their quirky brand of twee-pop on Labrador Records. According to the band, Johan drafts out the blueprints and Peter polishes these songs until they shine like the Pop gems they are. Imagine a decidedly less morbid version of The Unicorns married to the glossy pop styling of Burt Bacharach, with a heavy Swedish accent of course. The instrumentation is probably one of the most surprising elements for a self-produced album by duo. Songs like "A Couple of Instruments," "Funeral Face," and "Little Boys in the Ghetto" feature a variety of instruments from French horn to a beat-boxing loop. Johan's voice never seems troubled by the delivery of the sometimes simplistic lyrics. The simplicity does lend a certain honesty to the lyrics. In the song "Parakit," Johan sings of a return to his old neighborhood: "I'm going back to the place I was born / My favorite hood / Hallelujah / Believe I found what I came here for / I used to roam the streets on skateboards with cheep beer / A little punk / Hallelujah." If Sweden's viking roots are any indicator, #3 is just fair warning that the underground pop scene is going to be pillaged by a Scandinavian invasion. Judging by the releases from Suburban Kids with Biblical Names, The Knife, The Figurines, and Jens Lekman...? I don't know about you but I'm growing a beard and getting comfortable in fur. [www.skwbn.blogspot.com]

There was a time when opening up for the Dave Matthews Band was a gig well-suited for off the beaten path acts capable of hitting audiences from unexpected directions. Those days are too far gone, and now a spot on DMB’s summer ticket is a declaration of a band’s ability to appeal to the masses. Such is the current state of affairs for Gomez, a British outfit that once was the darling of the underground. Now its music can be heard on widely popular network dramas like Grey’s Anatomy – but that’s hardly an indictment of the band’s worth. Gomez boats an eclectic sound that is accessible to folks with a wide array of tastes. Its latest offering, How We Operate, is an impressive showcase of such versatility. It’s a tad poppy throughout, but it’s also got a little twang and a little oomph. The hypnotic guitar driving the intro of “All To Much” could easily fit into a Sergio Leone flick – the song soon eventually morphs into a sugar-sweet ballad well cut out for the adult contemporary listening crowd. “Chasing Girls Around” features a delicious slide guitar, but it gets a little sleepy during the middle stretches. “Woman Man,” the strongest cut on the record, has a delightfully clever ghost-town feel, and shows off what the band can do at its best. For most of the record, Gomez flies above the lame trappings of acoustic college rock. Only on a few occasions do they descend into the dark chasms of cringe-worthy cheesiness – the worst offense is the sassy, “Cry on Demand.” Frankly, sassiness is a characteristic to which no respectable rock band should aspire. “See The World,” a moderately paced ready-for-radio ditty, is infinitely more tolerable. But the stellar moments on this album far outweigh the disappointing ones. It’s a good step forward for a band that clearly is bent on making a power move into the mainstream. [www.gomeztheband.com]

Sparks' last album, 2002's Lil' Beethoven, saw the brothers Ron and Russel Mael defying conventional categorization with a unique take on popular music. The album was a melting pot of various aural pleasures, and one could never quite definitively label any track as one genre or another. Was it rock? Was it pop? Was it rock/pop with a classical, rock opera twist? The Maels certainly had no interest in stale sounds or familiar arrangements. Fortunately for those of us who care very little about which section of the record store we buy our music in, Sparks continues to make fresh music that is nearly impossible to label. Their 20th studio album, the recently-released Hello Young Lovers, is a natural extension of Lil' Beethoven. The music is similar, with layered instruments and electronics that provide a modern pop spin on classical music arrangements. Where Lovers shows growth from Beethoven is in its complex lyrical structure. Beethoven saw the use of key repeated phrases throughout the duration of each song; it was pop minimalism at its finest. Lovers takes the general sound of Beethoven and builds spectacularly witty and well-articulated stories and anecdotes upon the established musical structures. In terms of subjects covered, Lovers sticks to a few of the old classics: Sex, relationships, human psychology, and, of course, aliens. The not-so-subtly titled "(Baby Baby) Can I Invade Your Country?" appears, at first, to take a stab at American politics (the verse lyrics are the words to "The Star Spangled Banner"), but there is most certainly a sexual connotation to the title/chorus phrase that overrides the vague political mention (war as metaphor for sex, perhaps?). Speaking of metaphors, the track "Metaphor," one of the album's standouts, also hints at a theme of amusing sexuality. The song informs listeners that "chicks dig metaphors" and to "use them wisely / use them well / and you'll never know the hell of loneliness." What makes the song pure genius is that the verses are made up of metaphors about metaphors: "A metaphor is a popular place / a parking space / a multiplex showing." As always, the distinct Sparks wit is in full swing in every note and word of this record. Other key tracks include the lengthy, twisting "As I Sit to Play the Organ at the Notre Dame Cathedral" in which a story is told of a man who uses his musical talents in public to catch the attention of women, the sexy "Here Kitty," complete with a "meowing" backup vocal track, and "There's No Such Thing As Aliens," a silly little song with a fair flourish of dramatic whimsy. The witty, theatrical qualities of Sparks' music do not make them the most accessible band around. But if you allow yourself the time to find a way into their sound, you will have made yourself a fan of one of today's most underrated, genius groups. [www.allsparks.com]