Expo is what you’d expect from the main songwriter of The Apples in Stereo--fuzzy, synth-driven slices of 60’s psychedelic-pop seething with so much sugar that your dentist won’t need many listeners to keep him in business. Robert Schneider has been doing this sort of thing for over a decade, and he’s one of the best in the game. This is his second solo excursion as Marbles, with the first being 1997’s Pyramid Landing and Other Favorites. If you’d never heard of Marbles, and you took one listen to this, assuming it to be The Apples wouldn’t really a crime. But when you put the two side by side, you notice the differences. Schneider relies much more on synthesizers, drum machines, and other various sounds employed electronically. Is it teeming with sun-drenched bliss like The Apples in Stereo? You bet. I can’t say there’s a letdown on the record, besides the fact that it goes by all to quickly. Any fan of Schneider’s more well-known work will enjoy Expo, as his dreamy vocals lead both bands. While it’s a step down from his output with others having their say, the record is, at worst, a holdover until we get another record from the full band. [www.spinartrecords.com]

If for no other reason, Gods and Monsters is significant because it’s one of the few releases by a British band in recent memory that cannot be compared in any way to Coldplay. Reviewers and listeners will have to work a little harder for their comparisons; this is just one of the many challenges I Am Kloot presents. Darker and more sonically dense than offerings by many of their counterparts, this album takes a few listens to fully appreciate. Once the layers are peeled away and examined, what you’re left with is an interesting and tasteful record that rewards you for your patience. Gods and Monsters is reminiscent of edgier British pop-rockers (think The Beta Band, Doves, even a bit of The Smiths) filtered through the simplicity of late 1960’s rock. The uncomplicated yet effective guitar riffs and retro rock beats provide the perfect context for John Bramwell’s brooding vocals. On tracks like “No Direction Home,” “Strange Without You” and the title cut, the music suggests the kind of foreboding awareness one feels in the middle of a well-written mystery novel. Bramwell makes you feel like something’s not quite right with the world but also makes you want to stick around for the ending. This is not to say everything on Gods and Monsters is doom and gloom. On folkier tunes like the all too brief “Astray” and album closer “I Believe," Bramwell and friends exhibit some faith that things will turn out alright in the end. The album’s standout track, “Avenue of Hope,” features a beautifully subtle piano part and evolves into a full-fledged jazz ballad while Bramwell searches to find out “just who I will become.” There are a couple of throwaway tracks here (“Sand and Glue,” and “Dead Men’s Cigarettes”), but otherwise the band does an excellent job of staying constant in their effort to create an album that seems to be less about what it is being said than about how it’s being said. Gods and Monsters is a great change-up from typical Brit-rock fare and a welcome addition to that country’s musical legacy. [www.iamkloot.com]

Two Words--"shit sandwich." Okay, maybe Noah’s Ark isn’t deserving of that, but maybe it’s not all that far off. The return of the Cassidy sisters brings along much from their first album La Maison de Mon Rêve--an eclectic mixture of genres and styles, which all congregate under the umbrella of art-folk. Think maybe the theatrical oddity of the Fiery Furnaces…without any of the fun. I think I could actually like this album if I didn’t hate the singer’s voice so much. “Beautiful Boys” stands out to me because of the soulful guest vocals of Antony (of Antony and the Johnsons, but of course). Otherwise, sister Sierra (who apparently is operatically trained…though you’d never know it) uses this “little girl” voice that simply drives me up the wall. I was hoping this album would maybe just be “difficult.” That if I just listened to enough college radio, suddenly it would all make sense. And there are certainly some moments that I think I’m almost there. Songs like “South 2nd” play with that quiet folksy intensity of finger-picking and simple melodies paired with increasingly tense lyrics and subject matter, all without ever really raising a voice. Some of the musical exploration works--the lo-fi quality, plinking keyboards, beat-boxed rhythms, while some doesn’t--random animal sounds; taking certain vocal “liberties” with pitch and key; obtuse lyrics that can be either confusing or somewhat offensive. Fans of the previous record might love this album. Some people might love the idea of the unicorn orgy on the front cover. I, for one, wonder if that shit sandwich comes with potato salad or chips. [www.cocorosieland.com]

“Doveman plays lamp rock / Doveman plays insomnia pop,” the Doveman Website tells you. Apart from that introduction, I didn’t really know what I was getting into. I can tell you Doveman’s The Acrobat is beautiful, jazzy and melancholy. Minimalistic and complex, “The Acrobat” pricks at your mind and your soul as it wanders down unconventional paths toward one universal destination. The lyrics are as beautiful as the instrumentation, delivered with a sleepy clarity. Enigmatic and yet dreamily accessible, each song delivers. This is mellow, understated music that refuses to be boring. The Acrobat is a near-seamless collection. The first song “Honey” envelopes you with its fragile strength. It’s a troubled relationship song that covers that well-tread ground without a moment of cliché. The piano part in “Cities” falls apart perfectly into calculated chaos. Every song has an element that draws you in. And once you’re in, there’s always more to find. It would be a mistake to pass Doveman off as a group of depressed alt-minstrels wallowing in their own dejection. Melancholy, yes, they are at times, but they soar above rather than crawl through. [www.dovemanmusic.com]

In a year when many of my favorite artists have released albums, I am astonished to come to the following conclusion: My Morning Jacket’s Z is (by far) my favorite record of 2005. The Kentucky-based band has created a lush and layered masterpiece which should propel them from indie darling status to being known as a musical force to be reckoned with. On Z, My Morning Jacket has, for the most part, eschewed their Southern rock tendencies of old in favor of a more psychedelic landscape where anything is possible. All at once the group manages to borrow from several great artists (Radiohead, The Flaming Lips, Beach Boys) and yet sound like nothing you’ve ever heard. Jim James’ commanding vocal presence interacts with whirling guitars and atmospheric keyboards to create an album that is as brilliant as it is unpredictable. The genius of this record is how it manages to come off as a free form exercise in creativity while employing the amount of structure necessary to construct and sustain memorable pop songs. Each of the standout tracks on Z wander in and out of a variety of musical settings yet remain consistent in tone and quality. For example, “Off the Record” opens with a surf guitar riff, morphs into a Clash-style reggae tune and ends with a wandering electronic outro, yet all the pieces feel perfectly compatible. Other prominent songs include “Into the Woods,” which overcomes one of the creepiest opening lines in history “A kitten on fire/a baby in a blender,” to achieve a beautifully deranged sense of wonder, and the feel-good “What a Wonderful Man.” Driven by a sunny piano riff, the tribute to a “sensible” icon features gleefully unrestrained vocals by James. Z is the story of a band finding out there are no barriers or limits to how great they can be. By being willing to survey and explore the musical landscapes available to them, My Morning Jacket has created a record that is sure to resonate with anyone who will come along for the journey. [www.mymorningjacket.com]

Tribute albums are tricky to judge. A good cover song should be creative enough to display the personality of the artist doing the cover yet not stray so far from the intent and sound of the original it becomes unrecognizable as a tribute. Assuredly, this is a delicate balance to achieve which makes commenting on such a tightrope act an even more delicate thing. In theory, this album should be terrific. The producers have assembled an eclectic array of artists with the right amount of youth, talent and individuality to recreate one of rock’s greatest albums in its original track sequence. In reality, however, the record is just average, proving how hard it is to achieve the aforementioned balance, especially when recording songs by the most famous band ever. There are several gratifying renditions presented on This Bird Has Flown. Ben Lee’s minimalist take on “In My Life” showcases the poignancy of that song in a fresh way. Sufjan Stevens exhibits the sonic experimentation of the 60’s with his delightful version of “What Goes On.” With “Wait,” Ben Kweller demonstrates a kindred spirit with the uninhibited rock of decades gone by. Though bordering on being too faithful to the original, Old 97’s singer Rhett Miller’s “Girl” gives a plaintive urgency to the narrator’s romantic confusion. Unfortunately, all of the tracks on This Bird Has Flown do not retain such spirit. A few too many artists infringe upon the previously enumerated principles of cover songs. The Donnas’ open the album with a dreadfully unenthusiastic version of “Drive My Car” that sounds like it was recorded on an off night in a karaoke bar. The Cowboy Junkies close the album in opposite fashion by turning “Run for Your Life” into a piece of art rock that falls flat. These bumps in the road appear in too many places throughout the album, stifling any momentum this collection attempts to build. The album is worth listening to for its inspired moments but at least half of the tracks can be skipped past without regret, illustrating just how difficult it is to reinvent something that was done right the first time. [www.thisbirdhasflown.com]

The Juliana Theory’s early albums on Tooth and Nail were fundamental to my collegiate experience. The band’s combination of noisy guitars, transparent lyrics and an irrefutable gift for melody seemed to perfectly express what it was like to be me at age twenty. Sadly, in the years since the early TJT records, all of the aforementioned elements that made those albums so great have been hijacked and debased by a host of mediocre emo clones. At times on Deadbeat Sweetheartbeat, the group shows the innovation necessary to rise above the sea of mediocrity for which they may have partially been responsible. The staccato guitar rhythms of “Leave Like a Ghost (Drive Away),” the melodic sensibility of “The Final Song” and the unique bridge section in “Shotgun Serenade” are creative moments that can’t be replicated. The energy and intensity the group displays is praiseworthy and should allow much of the material to translate well in a live setting. The liveliness the band exhibits in such moments is precisely what makes the rest of the album pale in comparison. Most of what happens on this record could pass for a thousand other songs by a thousand other bands. Whether it’s The Juliana Theory’s fault or not, their music seems to easily blend in with all the other high-emotion, high-octane bands on rock radio today. Cliched production techniques, average hooks and song titles like “My Heart Is A Soldier” and “French Kiss-Off” drag down what could have been the band’s chance to set themselves apart in a scene full of interchangeable pieces. In the end, what upsets me most about this record is how much it feels like the experience of outgrowing an old friend. I’m not twenty anymore, and in some small measure, I am growing up. The music of The Juliana Theory doesn’t seem to have grown past the point of expressing what it is to be young and emotional, and if this album could have shown more growth, I would have been all too willing to embrace it. [www.thejulianatheory.com]

I’ve loved Metric for some time now. When they opened up for Broken Social Scene a few years ago, I was hooked by Emily Haines' hip-shakes and head tosses. There is one word for that girl on stage, and it is "sassy." She could easily adopt this "front-woman for a rock band" thing we’ve all seen before-- “I might be a chick, but I can hang with the guys,”--but she doesn’t. She leads the band onstage superbly, and she can pour great emotion and tone into her voice that can just put these songs over the top. Maybe best, though, is that with such a strong leading female, they don’t resign to simply act like her backing band. Guitarist Jimmy Shaw and bassist Joshua Winstead are right up front dancing along, putting what they have into the show. Then you get home with the record, you listen to the lyrics a little better, and you know this girl has something to say. Subjects for lyrics have included groupies, children affected by war, sexism, “scene politics,” and lonely boys. I’m a sucker for sad songs with happy beats. Tracks like “Glass Ceiling” have this deep sarcasm, putting on a big smile and thinking nothing but “Fuck you, I wish you’d drop dead!” I think what I really like about this album is that I didn’t like it the first listen through. I wanted, like, a second disc to their first album, Old World Underground, Where Are You Now? Instead I got an album that’s a lot darker in a few ways. I would say it’s not until “Handshakes” that you get an outright dancey rock song. It wasn’t until about my third listen that suddenly everything clicked. Until then I was worried this was a “more mature” album (read: slower, less energy, not as good). Rather it’s a strong progression, showing the strength of a band whose members currently reside in two separate countries (Emily and Jimmy moved back to Canada last November, Joshua and Drummer Joules Scott Key elected to stay in San Francisco). I was going to say there are some great stand-out tracks, but next thing I knew I had listed over half the album, (which wouldn’t really make them stand out tracks now would it?). There is the weaving mono-synth of “The Police and the Private,” or maybe the whispered French on “Poster of a Girl,” or how about cheerleader-chant into to “Monster Hospital.” After only two weeks, I can say that Live it Out has moved into my top albums of the year. [www.ilovemetric.com]

Hasidic reggae? Oh Jesus… Well not, Jesus per say. Not as in the son of God anyway. But a Hasidic reggae inflected rapper? I know Mike Skinner pulled off an accent, but this seems a little much. Rapping about the “destruction of the temple and the eventually building up of the third temple that we’re waiting on,” it was hard to think of this as anything more than a novelty. However, recorded live in front of a rowdy Texan audience (yet another “what the… ?”), Live at Stubb’s is more than just an originality. Matisyahu and his band are talented. Seamlessly delivered lyrics inspired straight from the Torah flow over chilled out blasts of reggae inflected beats. His ability to speak openly and religiously without sounding preachy allow Matisyahu to sound uplifting and inspiring for Jew and Gentile alike. This doesn’t seem like it would work as well as it does, but it simply does. So while this Matisyahu may not last the millenniums that Hasidism has, it’s clear that he is more than a flash in the pan. Flares and tickertape (in the form of Bob Marley and Y_hw_h) can attract listeners but ultimately it’s content that will keep them coming back for more and content is definitely not something Matisyahu is found wanting in. [www.hasidicreggae.com]

The term "avant-garde" isn't one I throw around lightly. In fact, I don't use it at all; it doesn't say much to me. I've seen Chin Up Chin Up described as such, but hearing them is the only way you can make such a decision. This is a re-release of their self-titled EP, and also includes some remixed songs from their 2004 full-length We Should Have Never Lived Like We Were Skyscrapers. Led by the songwriting duo of Jeremy Bolen and Chris Dye, Chin Up Chin Up aren't so easily pigeon-holed. There's plenty of rhythm, but they're not new wave revivalists. Tim Kinsella does a remix on here, but Chin Up Chin Up is more much lively than any of his recent projects. It's not really noisy, and is oft-reminiscent of 90's math rock, but as I said, more rhythmic. They could tour with Mogwai, they could tour with Explosions in the Sky, they could tour with the Arcade Fire--these all fit. Experimental, with lots of layered instrumentation? You bet , but the band doesn't delve into anything bizarre. It's unusual but not in a "what the hell is this?" coming from your less musically-inclined buddies way. In what I can sum up as an innovative and enjoyable record, these songs (most of which are at least three years old) create something just enough out of the ordinary to catch one's ear but not enough to turn one off. [www.chinupchinup.com]

Screeching Weasel may be the most important and influential pop-punk group this side of the Ramones. As far as their decade and a half or so of existence, the band managed to release around a dozen records. Some people hate Ben Weasel; some love him. It doesn't seem that many people reside somewhere in the middle when it comes to the band, and while a scant few of their albums will gain "classic" status, Weasel Mania stands as the only essential. The majority of the band's albums had a few gems, but more often than not, there was just too much filler. Either that, or the diversity between tracks was next to nothing. Only recently, Asian Man Records took the initiative on getting the Screeching Weasel catalog available to the masses again, and Fat Wreck hopped on the train, putting out this 34 song compilation. Some deem them as immature, and that's fair. Screeching Weasel didn't set out to intellectualize punk rock, they just wanted to have fun. Not many bands pulled if off this well. Likewise, most bands didn't have such a direct impact on the megastars of today. We can thank (or blame, if you prefer) Screeching Weasel for influencing Blink 182 and Green Day, to name just a couple. "My Brain Hurts," "Hey Suburbia," "Joanie's got a Problem with Her Uterus"--the classics are here, and though it's not exactly a "hits" album, Weasel Mania gives a proper overview of the band's existence. For that, I applaud. [www.fatwreck.com]

I'd call myself a pretty avid fan of Joe Strummer. The Clash is probably my favorite band, and London Calling is without a doubt my number one album of all time. As the leader of the pre-Clash 101ers, Strummer (then known as Woody, in honor of his idol) honed himself with the roots of rock & roll. Now supposedly, the band toured with the Sex Pistols, inspiring Strummer to leave the band to start what would become his more successful venture into the world of music. Elgin Avenue Breakdown was released in 1981, but due to its obscurity, Astralwerks deemed the release of Elgin Avenue Breakdown: Revisited a worthy cause. Drawing on the sounds of Chuck Berry, Eddie & the Hot Rods, and Dr. Feelgood, the 101ers put together a pretty solid batch of pub rock, though it's difficult to tell how much Strummer's later success helped to fuel the desire for this album, instead of what the band accomplished under their own name. Besides the band's fantastic originals (namely, "Letsagetabitarockin'," "Keys to Your Heart," and "Sweet Revenge"), there are a few covers worth mentioning--Berry's "Maybelline," Bo Diddley's "Don't Let it Go," and the Rolling Stones' "Out of Time," which in this case was recorded live in a prison chapel. On their own, the 101ers were a really good rock band. As history has it, though, they're known more as a precursor to The Clash. It's hard to overlook the latter point, but disregarding that bit of information, they're worth checking out. Include that information, however, and this is entirely essential for any Strummer's fans. [www.astralwerks.com]

The East Village Opera Company. Sounds awesome right? Thinking like, Rufus Wainwright meets the Divine Comedy. Beatnik Opera, how much more bohemian can you get!? Really heartfelt, epic stuff. A way for a whole new generation to experience a, before now, very exclusive genre. What a great idea. Man, this CD is going to be so damn awesome! Yea, pan all that. Think Trans-Siberian Orchestra or something else equally horrible. They took the worst parts of Opera (primarily pompiety) and the 1980’s (hair metal guitar and synth solos, slick string sections, and overproduction) and threw them together into this mess of an album. This is excess to excess. These guys are doing coke in their dressing rooms already and no one even knows who they are yet. It sounds like that Symphony and Metallica record only worse (kudos for that!). I guess some Opera fans are offended. Well so am I. This sounds like adult-contemporary Christian rock (you know forty-year-old housewife music…). I should have guessed all of this when I saw a major label was behind it. Now don’t get me wrong, your parents still might like this album. They might even think they’re hip when they’re listening to it. But don’t be fooled, this is about as hip as Manheim Steamroller, and unlike them, there’s no season when this is acceptable. [www.eastvillageoperacompany.com]

Someone here is living out every band nerd’s dream. Instead of forsaking years of parental forced participation in concert band, they are turning it on its head and rocking the hell out of that public school loaned instrument. Adding a muffled and boisterous bass line, Brian Wolff’s tuba adds a deep and novel tone that, unlike most novelties, doesn’t wear off after the first couple of songs. Wolff’s tuba fits in naturally to Drums & Tuba's filthy bayou-based southern rock. But there’s more than just tuba to Drums & Tuba. Mixing spastic and eclectic organic clicks, beats and twirps with stomping thrash guitar, Battles Ole sounds like an amazing unknown middle ground somewhere between Aphex Twin, AC/DC and Cake. However, lead singers Neal McKeeby's gristled and strained vocals can at times sound like a more convincing argument not to smoke or drink than anything a 19-year-old straightedge kid could ever come up with. The songs on Battles Ole range from southern jams (Two Dollars) to jazz rock outs (Magnum Opie) to spaced out stoner epics (Complicated Sorrow), making for an enjoyably versatile yet intact effort. That being said, there is still the epic hippie jam-based band vibe that comes prepackaged with most of Ani Difranco’s Righteous Babe recordings, but it’s not overbearing – just notably present, as the albums six songs are longer than any Weezer album to date. And this kid has had to play whole notes from the back of the room for long enough. Blow man, blow. [www.drumsandtuba.com]

It's very difficult to write an album review when the press release already says exactly what you're compelled to say in reference to a valid description of a band's sound. Words only mean so much when you happen to be talking about an entirely different medium, but Neon Blonde is what they purport to be--the alter egos of two already-established musicians taking a shot at reviving the experimental glam-rock of the best of the 1970's--Roxy Music, David Bowie, Queen, Brian Eno, etc. Johnny Whitney and Mark Gajadhar understand how to make interesting music, having been doing it for years with the frenzied hyper art-punk of Seattle's Blood Brothers. Chandeliers in the Savannah is ultimately reminiscent of the members' other work due to Whitney's unmistakeable falsetto and screeching, but the music itself is worlds apart. "Chandeliers and Vines" takes the cake as the album's best, utilizing the piano into a Low-sounding tune with Whitney's sassy vocals providing the hooks, and lyrics as bizarre as he's ever written. "Princess Skullface Sings" brings a drum machine into the mix with synthy basslines; "Headlines" is home to a piano line, well, that you really wouldn't want to have playing in your head if you were alone in a dark house. The duo doesn't completely escape the shadow of their other band, as this simply sounds like the Blood Brothers playing out their experimental/glam obsessions, but it's executed exceptionally well and should be greeted warmly by their current following. [www.dimmak.com]

If you know anything by Audio Bullys right off, it’s a good bet that it’s their mix of “Shot You Down” featuring Nancy Sinatra that was on the Kill Bill soundtrack. It’s a great mix of a pretty groovy song, and it’s probably the main reason this record might sell. But buyer beware…it’s not all that tight. The London-based duo’s latest release, Generation, feels more like a trip back in time than a jaunt to the edge of dance music. Most of Generation has an early to mid 90s techno/house feel. It’s not cutting edge but sticks to tried and true beats and sounds that worked before and to a certain extent work now. But in truth, a lot of it reminds me of things that Stereo MCs were doing back in the day, particularly “Made Like That.” That’s not to say that it’s bad; I like Stereo MCs, but basically, it’s been done. “Eq-ing” has a sharp frequency that actually hurt me when I listened to it through headphones. This song is one of the more out there songs in terms of breaks, beats and noises. It’s a rolling, driving trip into the sound of a dentist’s drill. “All Sing Along” is an awkward jumble moving too fast, never catching the vocals up with the rhythm and containing kind of ridiculous lyrics (“You’ll be callin me up to thank me / But I won’t even throw you a hankie”). “Keep On Moving” samples “Katy Lied” by Steely Dan and offers a nostalgic look back at early 90s. Then there is a peculiar section of Generation that, while also still sounding a lot like Stereo MCs, is much more chill and laid back. I prefer this section of the record because it has more personality and a sense of uniqueness that the standard dance fair offers. One song in particular for which I have a certain affinity is “Struck By the Sound,” which has almost a reggae vibe to it and is much more pared down than the other tracks. It’s more interesting and, well, cool. Complete with a saxophone solo, I’d say this is my favorite song on the record. I’m not really sure who to recommend this album to. It’s house, but not innovative house. It’s dance, but not dance that you could consistently dance to. My advice to you, if you’re contemplating plunking down cash for this one is to try and find a listening station and make up your mind then. Otherwise, I’m afraid at least part of Generation will disappoint. [www.audiobullys.com]

I have a tiny confession to make: I kind of had it out for this album before I’d even heard all of it. Mainly because my first impression of Coldplay’s latest was “Speed of Sound,” leading me to assume that the foursome had found their cash-cow (if you don’t think there’s at least a slight resemblance to “Clocks,” you should probably stop reading here). Thinking that X&Y would be nothing but regurgitation was not a fair presumption on my part, although not a completely unfounded one. While not really a B-side to Rush of Blood, it does resort to that staple “not quite U2” sound we’ve come to expect. Right from the opening echoes, you will notice one change intrinsic to most of the record: They’ve given up the splendid pianos from previous albums and opted instead for a more guitar-driven opus. And Jonny Buckland more than holds up his end. While on the last couple of efforts he played second fiddle to said piano, here he really steps into the spotlight in a more pristine and truly Edge-ian fashion (and in all honesty, makes the album). Another honorable mention is Will Champion, who’s equally fantastic all the way from the first seconds of “Square One” to the cool as shit cymbal crown/cowbell fill on “Low” (note, however, that it also could have been a half-empty beer bottle, I’ve haven’t confirmed that yet). If there is a handicap to this album, it’s none other than Chris Martin himself, who definitely fails to pull his weight. The vocals on X&Y are pretty hit-or-miss, with the highlights being the amorous “A Message” and album jewel “White Shadows.” On the rest, however, Martin doesn’t even try. Abandoning almost entirely his lovely mid-range, he cheaply throws around his sometimes-squawky falsetto for compensation. At least five out of thirteen songs feature him Ooh-ing the chorus in said octave. Lyrically, the album does show some depth, as in the aforementioned “Shadows” (We’re part of the human race/ All of the stars and the outer space/ Part of a system, a plan). But then there are times when it just smacks of laziness. Note the latest single, “Fix You” (When the tears come streaming down your face/ When you loose something you can’t replace/ When you love someone but it goes to waste). “Below…go…know.” “Soon…balloon…spoon.” What rhyming dictionary did he rip this off of? If you are a Coldplay fan, please don’t let my criticism get you down. It takes a few listens before X&Y really sinks in and starts to flaunt each song’s merits. While it features some of their most lackluster work, Coldplay do offer up some solid tunes, including the hidden “Till Kingdom Come,” (originally written for Johnny Cash) and the (relatively) dark “Twisted Logic.” None of it, however, will compel you to sing along like “Shiver,” or grip you with its progression like “Amsterdam.” Sadly, the majority of X&Y will simply melt into a bland radio rock amalgam, long forgotten when they release a Best-of. [www.coldplay.com]

I'm absolutely stumped as to how Fivespeed landed a deal with Equal Vision Records. Given, these four songs have "radio airplay" written all over them, but in my experience, Equal Vision has always catered to a more alternative culture, having helped push acts such as Bane and Give Up the Ghost to tremendous heights in the hardcore scene. Saves the Day released their first two records on the label, and yes, even Coheed & Cambria started their already illustrious career alongside the rest of these guys. Keeping that last fact in mind, maybe the label has had their taste of mainstream success, and sees Fivespeed as a viable chance at a second. I won't necessarily say that the band is bad, just overly predictable, and they certainly don't cater to the audience which this label has established over the years. Diversity isn't a bad thing, though, but in this instance it's just confusing and unexpected. The Phoenix-based quintet isn't too far apart in style from acts such as Blindside and Breaking Benjamin--groups that maintain a hard rock sound but aren't heavy and are too polished to be termed "aggressive" in any fashion. Turn your radio to any so-called modern rock station, and chances are you'll hear something comparable in just a few, painful minutes. And sadly, again, chances are you'll be hearing Fivespeed on the radio in the coming months. However, the Bella EP has one positive attribute, and that’s brevity. [www.fivespeedmusic.com]

Ox is a collective of musicians hailing from Vancouver. Led by Mark Browning, the band orchestrates an affinity for an array of influences, citing the Velvet Underground and the Flying Burrito Brothers alongside the Byrds and Frank Zappa. Dust Bowl Revival tells us otherwise, as its 14 tracks can be described as alternative folk music devoted to the band's early country fetishes and a slight hint of psychedelia. Yes, the title is undoubtedly a Woody Guthrie reference. While the band doesn't reflect Woody's proletarianism, the same spirit of happiness on the road without a care in the world is intact. In fact, "Deportees" is the last track on the album, and while I can't be certain that Woody ever recorded this--he wrote the lyrics, and I've heard Arlo do it--Ox actually doesn't do such a good job. Along with Pink Floyd's "Fat Old Sun" and Julian Cope's "Promised Land," the originals on Dust Bowl Revival tend to be the more outstanding of the bunch. Dreamy and quaint, Dust Bowl Revival triumphs in defying any era of music, pulling off an album full of refreshing yet nostalgic back-to-the-roots indie rock. [www.oxmusic.ws]

The Popstar Assassins aren't slaying popstars just yet, but they're also not falling into the category themselves. They're definitely not stars, but as far as "pop" goes, they're halfway there. The appeal is there, but Moderne is just a bit rough for that tag. Don't take it as a negative comment, though, for the band has much more to offer... The jangling guitars stir up memories of early REM. And actually, the vocals do sometimes as well, though only slightly. Far from overproduced, Moderne is gushing with halfway-memorable melodies, and where the lo-fi production fits the album, there is still an abundance of dull moments. "Headache(s)" grabs your attention as the opening song--albeit somewhat predictable--but enjoyable nonetheless, and the swelling keyboards are a nice touch. The remainder of the album follows suit but is so atypical of the genre without supplying anything exceptional. I can't find much about Popstar Assassins. Their album has no website listed, and search engines yield no results for their website, or even that of their label. Possibly a band based solely on a hobby? I don't know, but I can say this--they fall in just above mediocrity. They can be charming on occasions and sleep-inducing on others. [www.popstarassassins.com]