"Ska-core" is a term rarely heard today, and from my experience, bands of such a genre tend to have all but died out. But the Voodoo Glow Skulls have survived through all the trends, sticking to their Mexico-inspired style of hardcore-tinged psycho-ska. Consistant since for more than a decade, the band has released seven albums, with the majority having been out on the heavyweight Epitaph label. The Voodoo Glow Skulls graced more than a few of the Punk-o-Rama compilations, and I'm sure I'm not the only one to discover a plethora of 90's punk rock through those 5-dollar albums. The music is rooted in early hardcore, while the ska elements are typically more in the brass interjections than in the guitar work; the vocals jump back and forth between English and Spanish, sometimes making for a very confused sing-along. The lyrics are political, speaking out in a fashion that many of their Epitaph counterparts did--lots of soul and conviction but not overly thought-provoking. As far as the musicianship, it's tight--the production is good, everything is solid, though it's not new; it's not very exciting. For what they're doing, the Voodoo Glow Skulls are good, but I can't tell if they stand out above the rest, because there just aren't many bands doing anything similar that have kept going, at least not at this level. Addicion, Tradicion, Revolucion plays as an enjoyable throwback six or seven years ago but still proves to be a good time. [www.victoryrecords.com]

Like the Strokes but deeper and darker, RTX is a blazing torch in the depths of mirky Velvet Underground/Television inspired rock. Picking up the peices of seminal Chicago rockers Royal Trux, lead singer Jennifer Herrema returned with a new line-up releasing last years Transmanacon. Guitars weighted down with cumbersome distortion and tribal drumming compliment Herrema's sinster lurr. The title track to this lastest offering, Speed to Roam sounds both exhuberant and filthy, mixing dirty harmonies with melodic and almost uplifting guitar riffs. The EP is filled with two live tracks that sound fresh enough to have come from a studio - chaotic, yet controled. And the effort is rounded out by "Kitty Grom," which takes classic retro/metal guitar solos and overdubs haunting vocals. Perhaps it's the psychedelic quasi-native looking artwork, but something about these songs just screams "Native American strung out on acid let lose on lower Manhattan." That might not seem to make sense, but one listen to the Speed to Roam EP and it just might begin to. [www.truxrox.com]

T. Raumschmiere plays the kind of music we'd all be listening to if the Germans had won the war. Aggrivated, quirky, punk-infused electronica with song titles like "All Systems Go!," "Der Grottenholm," "Rumpelkammer," and, oh yea, the title track "Blitzkrieg Pop." Frankly, the Third Reich would be all over this. Mixing slightly off-putting instrumentals with guest vocal appearances from Sandra Nasic (of the Guano Apes), Quasimodo Jones, and others, Blitzkreig Pop is an industrial take on punk. Highly filtered blips blurps, handclaps, and chants of disgruntled rage against something make up most tracks leading to something of a smeared effort. It's not that a particular song sticks out as worse than the others, it's just that most songs don't really stick out at all - too much of one idea. But it isn't all bad. There are the Volkswagons and Autobahns of the effort. The Ramones-infused, adrenline-drenched "Sick Like Me," the sleasy grind of a "Very Loud Lullaby," and "Blitzkrieg Pop," which sounds like an ex-patriot Andrew WK. It's promising... you just have to be careful not to get caught up in the hype of it all. [www.t.raumschmiere.com]

Before I even talk about this album, I’m just going to lay it out – As Cities Burn consistently puts on some of the best live shows that I have ever been to. It's energy and passion. I’ve seen them play shows to crowds there to see them or near empty rooms semi-interested in the headliners. Doesn’t really matter; there are just as many windmills, and guitar throws, and…well, just everything that makes seeing hardcore enjoyable (or post-hardcore, or whatever the hell-core is the genre d’etre). So now that I have that off my chest, it’s rare that I really get excited about really heavy music. The common threads between the maybe 7 albums I have like this are truly passionate lyrics. T.J. Bonnette isn’t Yeats or anything, but like their live performance, you know exactly where this guy’s heart is. And don’t think that because I’m talking about a Solidstate band with passionate lyrics that every song could be in the worship set at the First Christian Church of Hardcore. There are times when the lyrics are openly concerning his personal faith, but it’s not just about that. More of the album really concerns itself with struggle, with relationships, with missing fathers, with yourself. My issue with a lot of hardcore is the constant theme of “Life is Hard… and so is my music.” I can’t be just angry all the time. Cody Bonnette has some great, very fluid guitar work. Rhythm section is always tight. The singing vocals are a little weak, but it’s the screaming that we all came for anyway, am I right? It’s just a solid debut record. [www.ascitiesburn.com]

I almost hate to do this, but I’m giving this album the most average review possible. It’s not that Flies the Fields is this monumentally average album. More so, I just don’t really know what I can say about this album… Don’t hate it, don’t love it; not bad, but not really that good either. If Shipping News is a so-called post-rock band, then maybe there is a little too much rock. Doesn’t really strike me as just deadpan meandering of stoner rock either; while the songs do spend most of 5+ minutes in that constant tension of building up to nothing much at all, there are those moments when something is happening. Maybe it’s just the steady almost unchanging bass lines that give the songs that feeling that’s not quite droning, but not quite full out rock either. It’s sort of a shame too, because I loved Jason Noble’s work with the Rachel’s, and I know a lot of people into Rodan, of which Noble and Jeff Mueller were both a part. There are some tracks that I do enjoy; although, they are often the more structured, vocal heavy tracks, such as “The Human Face” and “Untitled w/ Drums.” Maybe I’m just picky, maybe this album didn’t catch me in the right mood, but for whatever reason, I just haven’t found myself dying to really listen to this record more than a handful of times. I’m not avoiding it; it just doesn’t suit the summery sun outside. [www.southern.com]

There are plenty of throwback bands, harkening a return to some bygone era of music. Hell, there haven’t been many bands lately that don’t seem to be part of some revival movement. But there is always some twist to make it modern, a reinvention. Not A Band of Bees. Frankly, I’m a little shocked this album wasn’t recorded in 1968. There are the bouncy walking bass lines, spring reverb laden guitars, swirling Hammond organs, Ringo rolling drum fills and tambourine. But were they really hit the nail on the head are the vocals. I almost don’t even know what it is, maybe the group harmonized background vocals or the just-enough echo to make them sit in the mix in just the right way. It’s a shame trademark infringement kept this band from being simply The Bees (or even The Bees UK… not that A Band of Bees is a bad name, especially for a six-person group). First time I heard of this group was actually from the Nashville band The Bees (or would that be The Bees US?), who were trying to secure rights to the name on this side of the Atlantic. Either way, when I host my own Frankie and Annette style beach party, “Chicken Payback” will be playing as I twist, mash the potatoes, and yes, perhaps even do the ‘Gator. How the Brits are so adept at making music for the hearts of Americans I’ll never know. [www.thebees.info]

Since their self-titled 1999 debut, Jack and Meg White have made a name for themselves with a decidedly minimalist approach to rock and roll and wonderfully strange lyrics that have piqued the interest of critics and fans alike. With their fifth effort, Get Behind Me Satan, the Stripes deviate from their traditional guitar and drum formula to create an eccentric, diverse album that showcases a previously unexplored amount of musical depth. On this record, Jack White takes the bluesy guitar stomps listeners have grown accustomed to and translates them into an entirely new musical language. There is still an abundance of powerful riffs, but they are predominantly played by instruments other than electric guitar. Piano, marimba and other assorted percussion instruments govern the musical landscape to rousing effect. In fact, the weakest tracks on the album are those which adhere to the Stripes’ typical sound. The diversity of instruments employed here allows the band to dabble in a variety of musical styles. From the insanely catchy Motown vibe of “My Doorbell” to the backwoods hillbilly glee of “Little Ghost,” the Whites succeed in exploring many parts of American musical tradition. Though the band’s sound has evolved, that hasn’t kept the Whites from indulging in their trademark twisted sense of humor. “Take, Take, Take” (with its electrifying tempo changes) is a perfect example of this point and is the most lyrically bizarre track on an album that covers a wide assortment of topics (Rita Hayworth, the supernatural, romantic betrayal and what Wayne Coyne once referred to as the Whites’ “modern, backwards, liberal family code”). Get Behind Me Satan is a collection of seemingly unrelated threads that weave together to make one of the most weird and extraordinary albums of 2005. This record will enhance The White Stripes’ reputation for bizarre genius and should make listeners eager to see what the pair will dream up next. [www.whitestripes.com]

Aimee Mann’s latest, The Forgotten Arm, is a simple but truly potent song cycle of tales about drug addiction, breakups and the open road. Delivered with Mann’s trademark sincerity, the heartbreak experienced by her characters vividly comes alive for the listener and further serves to cement her current position as one of America’s preeminent songwriters. Each of the 12 songs contained here contribute to the overall narrative but would be equally as compelling if taken out of context. Mann and her producer, Joe Henry, sought to foster an intimate and consistent musical setting that would give the album a live quality. The unembellished arrangements featured here do justice to their intention and serve the quiet desperation of Mann’s lyrics. Tastefully played guitars (highlighted by the amazing work of sidemen Jeff Trott and Julian Coryell), pianos and organs combine to give the album a roots rock vibe without overpowering any of the album’s chapters. Standouts include the melodic treasure “She Really Wants You,” the aching shuffle of “Little Bombs,” in which Mann’s characters experience “the deluge, then the drought,” and the bittersweet anthems to self-defeat “That’s How I Knew This Story Would Break My Heart” and “I Can’t Help You Anymore.” Mann has expressed how this record was especially influenced by artists like Elton John, Rod Stewart, The Band and Mott the Hoople. However, while listening I couldn’t help but think of Mann as a female counterpart to the master purveyor of songs about ordinary people and extraordinary loss, Bruce Springsteen. Few other songwriters can fit as much substance into a three-minute pop song without going over the top. Mann pulls this delicate trick off with amazing dexterity and the result is an album whose songs and personalities will stay in your mind and on your heart long after you finish listening. [www.aimeemann.com]

Several years ago, Longwave arrived upon the music scene as part of a highly-touted class of NYC buzz bands including The Strokes and Interpol. While Longwave has not garnered the same amount of celebrity as these bands, There’s a Fire, their newest release and third full-length, proves they certainly have the talent to keep up with their notorious contemporaries. Throughout the majority of the record, veteran producer John Leckie (Radiohead, The Verve, The Stone Roses and many more) succeeds in getting the band to play to their strengths. The members of Longwave display a talent for marrying huge pop hooks with dreamier, less mainstream guitar and keyboard sounds. Songs like “Tell Me I’m Wrong” and the title track are far catchier and far more artistically viable than the bulk of what’s currently being played on rock radio. Other tunes that shine include “Fall on Every Whim,” a creative throwback to 80’s Brit-pop that manages to avoid sounding derivative. The gem of the album, “Next Plateau,” is a ballad featuring sweetly strummed acoustic guitars and a whimsical melody that belies the tone of frontman Steve Schiltz’s morbid words, “You might as well be dead if you’re not already.” The band occasionally falters when they allow the more experimental aspects of the record to dominate rather than accent a track. For example, cuts like “The Flood” and “Down in Here” sound like they’re trying too hard to be Radiohead and the post-punk guitars of “We’re Not Gonna Crack” serve no other purpose than to remind us of their connection to The Strokes. Despite its infrequent missteps, There’s a Fire is a portrait of a band that could have definite staying power if they maintain the right musical focus. The album eclipses the majority of rock records released this year and proves Longwave deserve just as wide an audience as the bands they are oft-compared to. [www.longwavetheband.com]

Out of Nothing, the latest offering from UK band Embrace is the musical equivalent of a feel-good summer movie. Majestic choruses, soaring guitars and simple but hopeful sentiments such as “a light is gonna shine on you and I” unite to create an almost cinematic experience. Out of Nothing is the kind of album likely to stir hearts and cause many a sing-along. Stylistically, the band has garnered many comparisons to fellow Brits Coldplay. This is more than understandable with the Coldplay-penned “Gravity” serving as the album’s first single. However, lead singer Danny McNamara’s vocal style references Richard Ashcroft or Liam Gallagher more closely than it does Chris Martin, lending more of a rock edge to the ten songs contained here. While Mickey Dale’s keyboard playing is a definite asset, Embrace’s songs rely more heavily on guitar than those of their countrymen. Neither McNamara’s vocals nor his brother Richard’s fine guitar playing are the centerpiece of the album, however. The shining star of Out of Nothing is the musical component known as the chorus. The album’s opener, “Ashes,” boasts an epic refrain that is not soon to leave the listener’s head. Tracks like “Someday” and “Keeping” also exhibit the McNamara brothers’ impressive aptitude for writing anthems with massive hooks. The one mistake Embrace makes is in attempting to live on the peaks created by some of their catchier songs. When the band attempts to descend into the valley, as it were, and present a more subtle offering, the songs fail to deliver. Consequently, the second half of the album suffers. Track 5, “Wish ‘Em All Away,” is the lone example of a song that survives without having been constructed on a mountain top. With its creative inclusion of harmonica and gorgeous but slightly more subtle melody, it is the type of song Embrace should aim to write to give even more magnitude to their dramatic contributions. If the band can learn to effectively vary things up in this fashion, they may achieve a wonderful balance of substance and style. [www.embrace-music.com]

With Out-of-State-Plates, Fountains of Wayne present a compilation of bonus tracks, covers, live versions, unreleased material and other odds and ends that fell through the cracks over the last ten years or so. The two-disc set is neatly wrapped in the band’s self-deprecating humor and underplayed wit. The cover art says it all - stacks of crushed cars like so many songs in a bleak, industrial landscape. Disc one is the tightest of the coupling. The NPR opening snippet, blasting power-pop, infectious hooks and relaxed ballads are familiar earmarks of the pop-rock professionals. Although the song selection spans several years and various recording environments, the disc is well-ordered and sounds good from one song to the next. Disc two is more of a free-for-all, with decidedly quirky additions. You may find yourself hitting the skip button over the three holiday tracks, including “I want an alien for Christmas,” which was originally recorded for a Hanson Christmas album but went unused. In the liner notes, the band includes a little commentary for each song, including their cover of Britney Spears’ “…Baby one more time” from the Utopia Parkway era. “The label began to discuss using this song as our first single,” writes band co-founder Schlesinger. “We - perhaps foolishly - decided not to release it at all.” Fans should enjoy this and the rest of Out-of-State-Plates, but those unfamiliar with Fountains of Wayne are better off checking out their last studio release, Welcome Interstate Managers, first. To sum it up, Out-of-State-Plates is a bunch of leftover crap from other endeavors. But apparently Fountains of Wayne’s shit doesn’t stink. [www.fountainsofwayne.com]

Melodic metal. Qotsa-inspired riffs. Ted Nugent “Stranglehold” style guitars. Hopeful lyrics. I have no problems with any of these elements found on the self-titled Seemless album. I would gladly embrace them. However, they just don’t add up to what they should. Something is missing. That something is potency. The music sounds good, but it lacks that intangible element that mystically demarcates certain bands over others. It lacks the synergy that is created when the whole is greater than the sum of all its parts. Comprised of members from Shadows Fall, Overcast and Killswitch Engage, Seemless is both aggressive and soulful. The album opens strongly and the energy builds over the better part of the album. What is hard to explain are the ‘flat’ spots. I liken it to watching a DVD on a sub-par player and hitting a layer change. The movie freezes for that brief second before continuing on, and no matter how hard you try to ignore it and stay in the moment, you can’t. Why else is potency lacking? Seemless uses tried-and-true rock methodology to a fault. This is a case where a band needs to stick its neck out a bit more to separate it from a glut of similar sounding acts. I found this album growing on me after repeated listens, but it never bowled me over, or even surprised me. A solid base has been laid, but a dose of imagination would be required to take future endeavors by Seemless to a higher level. [www.seemlessband.com]

Occasionally, history can sometimes serve to create an unnecessary set of expectations. On the contrary, it can also provide a useful and revealing backdrop. Both ideas seem to ring true for Stephen Pedersen and Criteria. As a founding member of Omaha, Nebraska's Cursive, Pedersen's lifetime in music jumped the gun in many ways. After leaving the band in 1998 to study law at Duke University in Durham, NC, he helped form The White Octave and released two cult-status albums. He's since disbanded The White Octave, finished school, taken a job in corporate law, and released the Criteria debut En Garde. Not only does this shed light on dichotomy of Stephen Pedersen, but also helps to explain Criteria's recognizable sound. The first half of When We Break tears through several tremendous songs, each with its own style and infectious hook. Much like En Garde jumped out of the gate with a standout track, "Prevent The World" jumpstarts the album with its multiple personalities; in the catchiest way possible, Pedersen's rational and irrational sides duke it out from contemplative verses to anthemic choruses. A couple songs further, the syncopated-riff of "Good Luck" gives way to a sing-a-long chorus that draws further similarities to En Garde. The second half of the album includes a few hit-or-miss instances. While a great stab at a power ballad, a few of Pedersen's straining, vocal refrains in "Grey Matter" grate on the ear. Furthermore, "Salt in Game" and "Run Together" kind of amble along when compared to stronger cuts. When We Break, in many ways, is simply an amalgam of Stephen Pedersen's past endeavors. The album runs the gamut of mid-tempo rock without slipping into too many of the easy clichés. Combine that with Pedersen's ability to pen decent lyrics that appeal to the twenty-something everyman and you've got yourself a pretty good album. [www.criteriamusic.com]

It’s easy to hate an album when you hate the artist. Maybe you met them at a concert, and they were a bunch of dicks, or maybe you just hate the crappy music they produce, but having a personal hatred of a person makes it easy to bash their music. When it really gets hard is when you have to review a disc by a world class level good guy and realize you just flat out don’t like the album. How do you tell the nice guy he finished last? By all accounts, Mike Watt is one of the nicest people you will ever meet in the music business. Sadly in 2000, an untreated infection left to Mike suffer a burst perineum, a condition as painful as it sounds. (For those vocabulary challenged, the perineum is also known as the taint, the chode, the spot between the cash and prizes and the dark side.) After recovery he set out and recorded a kind of rock opera about his experience. Unfortunately we aren’t talking about Green Day singing an album about modern America; we are talking about a burst perineum!! With song titles like “Burtstedman,” “Puked To High Heaven,” and the eloquent “Pissbags and Tubing,” you can guess that the lyrical content isn’t the most appealing. Granted, an album can have non-appealing lyrics and still stick some nice music in there to make a solid album, but unfortunately, the off the wall sounds on this disc don’t improve it much. The whole thing plays like an LSD trip with spoken word lyrics. Odd instruments and odd timing make each track like an abstract painting, interesting to look at, but nothing you would want to own. I’m sorry Mike, I know you’re a nice guy and all, but this album is the musical equivalent of TMI (Too Much Information). We are all glad you recovered and are still cranking out the songs, but this is one thing I could have gone without hearing about. It’s almost worth a listen or two just so you can identify with what I am talking about, but other than that it is, sadly, a disc best forgotten. [www.hootpage.com]

Maybe I’m getting old, but more and more, I find myself being bored with new music and thinking, “This isn’t as good as the good old times.” Then I find a great new band, and it snaps me back into reality, and I have to remember that most of the world’s music isn’t actually that great. Most of it isn’t horrible either. Most of it lies somewhere lost in the middle. Black Forest is just such an album. It’s hard to say anything bad about this disc, other than it just doesn’t grab me. The album is book-ended by two instrumentals and split right down the middle by a third. In between is a collection of somewhat short and choppy tracks, with a lot of songs right at (or under) the 2 minute mark. Following a kind of Joy Division / Interpol type sound with a mix of Pixies funky guitar, the band has a bit of a stick and move type sound. The melodies don’t flow through the album so much as strike at you like bee stings. What carries the album is the guitar work. The oft-times wacky and high guitar work grabs the ear and keeps the interest while occasionally forming quite a catchy melody. But the album and its songs lack identity, and this causes the album to fall a bit short. There is no distinct lyric or original moment that causes songs to stand apart from each other, and the raw sound of the album only services to aid in the monotony. Somewhat drab vocals and muddled bass make the album bland in spite of the wailing guitar. Overall, this isn’t something that will inspire much hate, but the problem is that it doesn’t inspire much of anything. It’s decent enough for what it is, but ultimately forgettable and lacks to break ground in any way. [www.subpop.com]

I am not typically a man with a sweet tooth, but just this morning I woke up with a massive desire for donuts. I picked up a couple sweet bombs on my way into work, and as I sat at my desk with sugar and coffee, it was one of the best breakfasts I’ve had in a while. It may not make sense, but that is everything I feel about this album. I listened to the All-American Rejects’ first album, and, while I found a track or two I truly did love, for the most part it left me disappointed. I like my meat and potatoes rock and my refined indie darlings, so today’s sugary pop/punk doesn’t usually grab me, but after popping this disc in, I was in love. Like the glazed donuts on my desk, it wasn’t my usual meal, but it was exactly what I was craving. Opening up with the single “Dirty Little Secret,” the disc instantly gets your feet tapping and starts to wear out your ankles by following it up with “Stab My Back” and the title cut “Move Along,” which should very much be the album's next radio single. The tracks mainly focus on love and relationships, going from the pissed off “Night Drive” to the happier days of “Dance Inside,” and the desire to make a night last forever in “11:11 P.M.” Even when the band slows things down, they succeed in making it focused and tight, as in “It Ends Tonight” or “Straightjacket Feeling,” a track about going crazy over someone that showcases another side of the band very nicely. Wrapping it all up is the album ending “Can’t Take It,” filled with strings and piano that really add to the song in place of guitars instead of appearing as a gimmick or unnecessary layer on top of them. This album is just non-stop from beginning to end. If I were in high school and bumming around all summer, this would be the disc I would be blaring in my truck for the majority of it. Your attention never waivers, and your foot never stops tapping - exactly what a summer pop record should be. Unfortunately, a lot of people will dismiss this as crappy pop/punk or label it as a guilty pleasure even if they do enjoy it, but there is nothing guilty about a rock album that is tight, focused, insanely enjoyable, and just plan old fun. I think I’ll take another dozen please. [www.allamericanrejects.com]

We could discuss Laurent Garnier’s illustrious DJ career, emerging as one of the preeminent figures in the Manchester club scene of the 80’s. Or how about his stylistic versatility, deftly mixing such genres as Trip-Hop, Acid Techno and Jazzy House? So for someone so heavily involved in the European Dance and Rave scene, you would expect The Cloud Making Machine to be an album of Euro-thump beats, filter sweeps, and piercing synth blasts – music to crack a few glow sticks to dance for 3 days straight. That is why it’s important to know that The Cloud Making Machine is not an album to dance to. I say it’s not an album to dance to, but in the way that Röyksopp makes dance music that you can’t dance to. It’s a mixture of down-tempo cut and paste percussion, clicks and hums, real drums and spoken word samples. Floating over these audio textures are Jazz keyboards – and when I say jazz, I don’t mean a few diminished 7th chords, but actual Jazz. The album plays like the soundtrack to an unreleased Terry Gilliam film. Garnier has been moving beyond dance beats and DJ sets, and it is these new influences that shine through on this album. The French DJ recently joined Norwegian Jazz pianist Bugge Wesseltoft at the Montreux Jazz festival. Wesseltoft repaid the favor by playing on this album, along with other musicians and DJs such as Sangoma Everett, Philippe Nadaud, and Dhafer Youssef (that’s right, THE Dhafer Youssef, Tunisian singer and master Oud player!). I can’t pretend like I’m really knowledgeable about much of European rave culture, or modern Jazz and world artists for that matter. I do know that this album intrigues me in a very welcome way… something quite different from what I would normally hear. Sometimes it’s just refreshing to find something unlike anything else you own, to let you know there is more than just the latest indie rock hot pick of the week. Something you don’t have to completely understand to enjoy; something that is avant-garde and without being simply Bjork-esque. [www.thecloudmakingmachine.com]

As a living, breathing, red-blooded, cotton-wearing Made-in-The and Proud-to-be-an American citizen, can you really hate anything Jay Farrar does? Next you’ll tell me that “Pink Houses” by John Mellencamp is not officially the unofficial anthem of the American heartland. Or that Bruce Springsteen and the E Street band aren’t amazing. Now, none of this means you have to really like Son Volt. It just means that you can’t hate it any more than you want to burn the flag in front of your Grandmother. It’s the country/bluegrass tinged Rock and Roll that is in your blood and around your head (as described by Jay himself in “Six String Belief”). If I had to pick my favorite post-Uncle Tupelo project, unfortunately Son Volt would not be it. Jeff Tweedy was always my favorite songwriter (and voice) in that group, and thus Wilco wins by default. But that’s not say that on a hot Sunday afternoon, I don’t want to pop in Son Volt and drive to a wheat field to be with my friends. Each record is consistently American Rock, and Okemah won’t let you down there. Okemah is a reference to the birthplace of Woody Guthrie, whom Farrar references in the opening track “Bandages & Scars.” And in the tradition of Guthrie, The Melody of Riot is Farrar’s own tribute to the greats of American music – to make a record that can protest the direction of the country without losing any pride in the country itself. The question is whether invoking the spirit of songwriters so highly entrenched in their own time can be as effective when applied to the modern day. I can agree with the ideas, and I can’t hate the music, but it just doesn’t inspire me like I'm sure it is intended. [www.jayfarrar.net]

The Heavenly States' Black Comet sounds like ethnic rock from a nonexistent nation. Mixing strings in with the traditional band lineup can prove a dangerous decision. A violin can either tie a band to the deep south or the rolling hills of Ireland. However the Heavenly States have created a sound somewhere inbetween the two - right smack dab in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. That's right, Black Comet is a perfect case example of the Lost City of Atlantis rock and roll. Politically and socially charged lyrics barked out ala Archers of Loaf over a bed of supercharged indie rock, songs like "Look and Listen," "Black Comet" and "Vacant" grab you by the shirt collar and spit lines out inches away from your face with an unrelenting intensity. But like any good Atlantis rock record, it's not without its sweeter ballads. Songs "Borderline," "The Pale" and "The Witness" take the same intensity but shift it to a more drawn out and dramatic progression. The end result is a balanced record that leaves you feeling both exhausted and satisfied. But all comparisons aside, what's at the heart of Black Comet is a solid pop record. Taking from various inspirations and mixing with uptempo rythyms and shimmering melodies and riffs, The Heavenly States will have you hooked and baited right until you slide into the depths of the Atlantic. [www.theheavenlystates.com]

Part of me wants to like The Sun: The razor-sharp Killers-esque fuzz rock that is "Valentine;" the 80's new-wave turn pop punky anthem that is "Sandy;" the lofi alt-country hushed folk song that is "Demons." They also packaged the CD with a bonus DVD, and bonuses are always nice. Did Your Mother Tell You? incorporates a lot of different genres and ideas, meshing them together fairly well. But then again, part of me doesn't want to like The Sun: The over the top rocker that is "My Girlfriends Best Friend;" The overrunning country ballads that are "Did Your Mother Tell You" and "Song for Your Daughter." It's also their second ep/mini-album clocking in a row without a proper debut album, and my interest is waining a little. Hype can only last so long. So it's not that it's bad; it's just that it's a little muddied. There's an EP that came out two years ago. There's this EP that came out last year. And the full-length is due out in September, but has been reviewed already here at Silent Uproar by yewknee. From this EP it's still a little early to tell what the story with The Sun will be, but there's no real reason why you need this album. It's good but not amazing and ultimatly feels like a band airing their demos to the public. [www.thesunwebsite.com]