To restrict a review of any Saint Etienne record, much less a "greatest hits" record, to simply commenting on the music is a pretty difficult task given all of the tangents by which one could become distracted. But in the interest of not getting bogged down in details, that's the plan I'm going with. Suffice to say, the veteran indie pop trio of Sarah Cracknell, Bob Stanley and Pete Wiggs has just released the perfect little disc for the novice listener, Travel Edition 1990-2005. Travel Edition contains 18 songs from the band spanning their career since they signed with indie label Heavenly in 1990. The disc starts out with a beautifully melancholy instrumental, “Primrose Hill,” which was previously only available in another incarnation on a fanclub disc from 2002, and moves into more familiar 90s territory with a bouncy remake of Neil Young’s “Only Love Can Break Your Heart” (circa 1990). The rest of the album follows chronological order until it backtracks slightly with the closing song, “Finisterre” (2000). Since this song in particular seems autobiographical, it makes sense to end on a personal note for a band who have some of the most devoted fans I’ve ever known. It’s interesting to listen to the progression of the music and to note that, despite a few tempo changes and instrument shifts, the flavor of the music holds steady throughout. Later songs, like the epic “How We Used To Live” (2000) are sweeping and broader in beat choices, but earlier songs, like “Nothing Can Stop Us” (1991) have that recognizably 90s sound. They probably just missed being radio pop in the States in the early years, but so much the better for their integrity. My personal favorite on the album is "Lose That Girl." It's got the kind of driving rhythm that you can see yourself speeding down the highway to. For those of you who are already fans of Saint Etienne, you probably have most of these songs, and the only reason to pick up Travel Edition would be the convenience of having some of their hits on the same disc and to pick up the two new tracks, "Primrose Hill" and "Fascination." And it's for sure that fans of the group will argue over which songs were included and which ones were omitted. But when it comes down to it, I would say that this album, like most “greatest hits” collections, is really for someone who has heard a song or two, liked it and wants to know more or for someone whose friends go on lovingly about them so that you wonder what all the fuss is about. What it boils down to for the purposes of this review is simply: If you’re a fan of dancy pop, beautiful melodies, dreamy vocals and introspective lyrics, Travel Edition really should be in your collection. Just trust me on this one. [www.saintetienne.com]

Rah Bras sounds Southern Californese for “Right, Brother,” but the band’s music is a far cry from anything Jack Johnson, Donovan Frankenreiter or The Thrills ever produced. Imagine a super group composed of The Flaming Lips, Grace Slick and Frank Zappa & the Mothers. Now imagine these bands in a jam session higher than they’ve ever been before. Voila…EPS is created. EPS is a collection of three Rah Bras albums, but the songs interlock to form a cohesive whole. The chaotic structure of most tracks is primitive, avant-garde and methodical at the same time. No scientific timing was involved, but I don’t believe any track is longer than two minutes. Each succinct punch would be a perfect sound byte for a David Lynch film. While the vocals are mysterious but sparse, the instrumentals mature as Rah Bras progresses. The last few tracks are best associated with the acid techno genre. Side Note: I was blasting this album as I drove into Annapolis one very foggy night. The fog was so thick, I could barely see twenty yards ahead of me. I knew the State House was there, and I knew government office buildings were there, but the fog masked the entire landscape. It was as if I was driving into a black abyss that completely enveloped reality as I knew it. I can’t think of a more appropriate venue in which to listen to Rah Bras. [www.rahbras.com]

It's not often so obvious where a band draws their influences, especially when a band of such merit comes along. Normally, bands that stick out have somewhat their own style, and their sound isn't so easy to pick apart. Determining where the Futureheads get their musical drive is rather easy, but the band manages to be endearing and lovable without forcing the listener to write them off as a band of wannabes. There's not a vast amount of things I can say about the band that hasn't been mentioned already; this record made many a "best of" lists last year, and deservedly so. Taking a cue from many of their Britain brethen, most notably the Jam, Wire, and XTC, and crossing the Atlantic to snatch a little Devo for their musical menagerie, the Futureheads craft post-punk anthems, taking a spin on new wave and pop, making them even more bouncy, and adding energetic Gang of Four-ish guitar riffs. The entire album lacks not a bit in catchiness and sing-along choruses--basically every song is suitable for radio play and falls somewhere in the 2-3 minute range. The band are no strangers to humor and having fun, but when it comes to any important message via the music, their method of delivery often lets the meaning slip away unnoticed. The Futureheads also give Kate Bush's "Hounds of Love" a caffeine-induced run-through, with power that Bush probably never intended. Could the Futureheads, along with Franz Ferdinand and the rest of these indie-rock/punk bands grabbing all this attention, be another wave of the British Invasion? Most likely not, but it's possible, and hopefully if that time comes, the Futureheads will be spearheading the movement. [www.thefutureheads.com]

If you're like me, you think of Faithless in terms of their amazing techno/dance songs. “Insomnia” and what I consider the best techno song ever, “God Is a DJ,” are absolutely flawless. But the meat of what Faithless does, after listening to No Roots, I am convinced is flowing ambient, easy to get lost in music. And they do it to perfection as always. No Roots is a celebration of the ten years that the collective has been working together, with some guest members contributing vocals. The most recognizable constant member, of course, is Rollo Armstrong (Dido's brother in case you were wondering...and if you know what he looks like...you still are). The man has a smoky voice that just oozes sexy, laid back vibes. It's hard to take a record like this one that blends so completely and break it down song by song, so I'm not really going to attempt to. There are a few moments that stand out for me though. “Miss U Less, See U More” is a cool bouncy tune whose theme is given away by the title. “Mass Destruction: P*nut & Sister Bliss Mix” is this album's attempt at a disco anthem, and honestly, it falls a tad short to me. But when you're trying to live up to the best dance track of all time, even falling short is better than most of the competition. Despite the breezy and effortless rhythms that Faithless achieve, there has always been social commentary on their records. Even the hit, “Mass Destruction” is a protest song: “Whether invasion or globalization/Fear is a weapon of mass destruction.” The accompanying video is as current as the evening news with snatches of the war in Iraq and other questionable military ventures around the world flashing in the back and foreground. To sum it up, while I don't necessarily think this Faithless album is up to par with Sunday 8pm, there is no denying the talent and the power behind their music. I applaud the band for taking what can be vapid genre and making it as meaty as any work of art that can still be enjoyed with your brain in the on or off position. [www.faithless.co.uk]

There are rumblings of revolution coming from the musical north lately. Canadian rockers are gaining a hold on the indie US music scene, and they’re doing it on their own terms. Bands like Stars, Broken Social Scene and Sloan are critical darlings who are adored by their fans as well. So add to this growing list The Dears, a band from Montreal. They are causing a stir and letting us know exactly what they think on their recent 4-track EP, Protest. I have to admit that getting through opening track “Heaven Have Mercy On Us” to get to “Summer of Protest” is a lot like getting through “Pimpf” to get to “Behind the Wheel” on Depeche Mode’s 101 - It’s not that it’s so annoying a song; it’s just that there’s not much point to it, and the song that follows is so far superior, you wish they would just cut to the chase. “Summer of Protest” is also the only track on the EP that could even approach being considered a single. “No Hope Before Destruction” is mesmerizingly methodical at the start with a slow, soft bass drum and static opening, leading to the addition of lazy piano notes that suddenly skip, as a heart with arrhythmia might. Then the heavily distorted vocals enter, crackling their message of despair and before you know it, there’s this elaborate symphonic stretch for a minute, choir in the background. It’s a bizarre piece that just seems to suck you in and not let go. You know you’re going nowhere, but you can’t tear yourself away…I’m so very confused. A series of inhalations with a steady beat, “Protest (Parallel)” is another example of what I’ve determined is art-house music. It’s amazingly technical and impressive, and I like it, but I’m not sure why. However, I don’t think it’s anything I go to on a regular basis just to listen to casually. It’s just really interesting and beautiful to deconstruct and then enjoy all in one piece again. On most of the tracks from Protest, The Dears remind me of some of the more melodic, dreamy Joy Division in delivery with a little Thrill Kill Kultesque high-pitched backtrack vocal action. It’s a strange combination, I’ll admit, but the result is a multi-layered sonic experience that might just beat any drug for hypnotic effects. [www.thedears.org]

I admit it. I don’t pick up a Playboy for the articles. I look at the women. I admit it. If I’m channel surfing, and I see the Howard Stern show on, I’ll watch. What’s he getting at, you may be asking? Well, many times Howard Stern invites Playboy centerfolds into his studio. Because these models are not permanently airbrushed, viewers get to see the natural product. And most of the time, the ladies look better with what God gave them. Again, you may be asking what’s he getting at? Well, Carencro is a very polished album. Airbrushed, if you will. I’ve never seen Marc Broussard live, and I wonder if the natural product is any better? Besides, being polished, Carencro is also perplexing. The first track, “Home,” is the best track and the only track that sounds like someone else is handling lead vocals. I’m still not sure Marc Broussard is the vocalist, and I’ve dissected the song credits a dozen times. “Home” sounds exactly like something a Broussard kin would concoct. It tastes of swampy southern soul combined with eerie New Orleans voodoo blues. However, Carencro’s glossy finish diminishes the believability of “Home.” “Home” is followed by “Rocksteady,” a track similar to a Robbie Williams sing along. The vocals sound nothing like the preceding track. Thus, the war of attrition begins… Tracks three, five, seven and eleven are strong soulful ballads. With track five adding elements of blues rock. Tracks four, six and eight, nine and ten are playful John Mayer type songs with a little more backbone. Both sides lost men, but pop ultimately wins with a total of six songs, while blues only scored five… …But wait, an untitled hidden track is soft, slow, optimistic, soulful and…poppy. The white flags have been drawn, a truce at last! Ultimately, I’m very impressed by the vocal magnitude of Marc Broussard. But, I’m not comfortable with the inconsistency of the track list. One power pop album and one soulful blues album may be a better strategy. I, for one, would buy the latter, not a combination. But I’m a picky listener, and record label executives aren’t marketing to me. [www.marcbroussard.com]

On their debut, The Rock And Soul Circus, Dollhouse bring all three; throwing herky-jerky, sloppy rhythms and slamming power chords. The album, much of it balancing on propulsive, chaotic energy, fueled mostly by the pummeling drumming of Marcus S. Davis, sounds as if it were recorded in the 70s, and the band certainly plays as if they’re still there. Maybe Dollhouse is a boogie-blues band playing the kind of sludging metal that came early on in the 70s, as on “A Man On The Move,” when they sound like the MC5 playing Black Sabbath songs. (The fact that Michael Davis of the MC5 produced the album probably helps with this.) Most of the time, however, they sound like the Mooney Suzuki’s first record with a hot shot of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. On “Shangrila Tiger,” “Bang Bang Bang” and the MC5’s “The Human Being Lawnmower,” or the first three songs on the album, Dollhouse set out just how good they are. It sounds like the instruments are playing the players, like the stereo is going to explode because the band can’t contain the energy, like maybe these guys are just banging on their instruments and really have no idea. Dollhouse, with Davis’ help, are the sum total of the years 1965 to 1973, all in one band. The Rock And Soul Circus is more primal than recycled, as far as retro-sounding rock is concerned, and they’re too busy working the satanic church of the Crossroads to work with The Matrix. Or, they’re just too busy kicking your ass with nothing more than their music. [www.dimmak.com]

Two years ago, I never would have projected Against Me! to get where they are today. The band has a DVD documentary! I mean, when I first heard this band, they were simply an up-and-coming Gainesville punk band on No Idea Records. And while No Idea Records has some amazing bands, it's rare that any member of their roster can rise above that level. Against Me! surprised everyone though with a move to Fat Wreck Chords in early 2003, ending up releasing a record for the label that fall, which, while it was well received, didn't quite live up to the acclaimed Reinventing Axl Rose from the previous year. But anyway, I'm here to discuss the band's first and only documentary, entitled We're Never Going Home. And while I'm not too keen on music DVDs (I still only have a VCR), this one has proven to be rather enjoyable. Jake Burghart's film featuring Against Me! isn't a display of exceptional live performances, nor is it an outstanding introduction to the band. What the film does do, though, is document a month in the band's touring life and give what proves to be a pretty entertaining view. The band discusses typical life on the road, pulls pranks, locks Taking Back Sunday in a dressing room, and peruses the ups and downs of major label-dom, among other things. Live performances rotate video from show to show for each song, all while giving the viewer a feel of how much energy an Against Me! show can yield; the passion exuded by this band is at one of the highest levels I've ever witnessed. So I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do with a DVD review, this being my first and all, but I'll just say that this is a necessity for Against Me! fans, and if you don't like the band...then it matters none to you. [www.againstme.net]

The Capsules are a shoegaze band with not one, but two Sheilds in it. So this is going to be twice as good as My Bloody Valentine was right? It stands to reason, I mean My Bloody Valentine only had one Shields (Kevin) in it, so The Capsules have to be incredible. Well… unfortunately Jason and Julie Shields of The Capsules have no blood relation to Kevin, and furthermore, it seems they have little stylistic relation either. To start off, they took the whole druggy vibe out of shoegaze. That’s kind of like taking the blues out of the blues. It’s not that you have to do tons of mind bending drugs to create shoegaze (although I would imagine it’d help), but at least give us the impression that you did. In this void of once-psychedelic bliss, they placed overly sweet husband/wife pop not unsimilar to Mates of State. Now don’t get me wrong I am not knocking holy matrimony. It’s just that there is a time and place for a lot of things, and I am going to go ahead and assert that this is not the one for it. There’s no crying in baseball, and there’s no husband/wife pop in shoegaze. It might have worked if they didn’t take so many aspects of shoegaze while leaving so many other aspects out. There was enough to make it sound like shoegaze, but really, really weird shoegaze...and weird bad, not weird interesting. The music is alright, and the vocals are alright; everything is more or less alright really. Someone for Everyone was just produced in such a way that leaves it sounding just far too polished and precise to be a shoegaze album. Think of John Mayer deciding to get married and start a shoegaze band with his new wife. Well, probably not that bad but in that vein at least. [www.thecapsules.net]

I can’t decide if it is weirder that there is an emo-punk band from Switzerland (Favez) or that their lead singer (Chris “The Sad Rider” Wickey) decided to make a solo singer/songwriter album of alt-country tunes. Since I don’t really know anything about Favez other than their funny name and country of origin, it’s impossible to make a well-founded decision. So I guess it will just have to remain a mystery. The songs off of Lay Your Head… are based around Chris’s voice and acoustic guitar with a sprinkle of organ here and there. The tunes are nice, but they aren’t really great. When it comes down to just someone playing a guitar, there has to be either really clever lyrics (ie. The Mountain Goats), impressive guitar playing (ie Kaki King), or really interesting vocals (ie. Devendra Banhart). Unfortunately for Wickey, none of these things seem to be his forte. The lyrics as well as the delivery are pretty pedestrian, leaving the CD as good but not really great. There is promise to the album though. Shades of Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen circa Nebraska rear their head on songs "The Plains and the High Roads" and "The Radio Man," but he still has a long way to go before selling out Yankee Stadium for a few nights in a row. To be fair, I have been listening to a ton of amazing folk/alt-country/acoustic based rock recently (Banhart, Uncle Tupelo, The Byrds) so Lay Your Head… had a lot to live up to. It’s not that bad, and it does show promise, which is pretty amazing when you consider it’s the solo alt-country debut from the lead singer of a Swiss emo-punk band. [www.thesadriders.com]

Lyrically speaking, Saul Williams tends to come across pretty heavy-handed. But that’s because he’s a poet, not simply an MC, laying his words over music. With his latest, a self-titled full-length, Williams lays both out brilliantly, offering listeners thoughts and music, wrapped in a package more accessible than could be expected. From a musical standpoint, Williams shows his range throughout. “Grippo” has Williams boasting that his only trip is to “help niggas see beyond their reality,” a specific plan for which he reveals on the Bad Brains-sampling “Telegram.” He keeps the rock up on the twisted slavery-love of “Surrender (A Moment To Think)” and equally pounding “Control Freak.” The true revelation of Williams’ talent comes when he is howling like Ginsberg, exercising his place as one of the best poets alive. On the highway driving rhymes of “Seaweed” and search for identity of the album-opening “Talking to Strangers,” Williams reminds the world that he knows what’s going on. Tapping Zack de la Rocha to spit the viling chorus of “Act III (Shakespeare)” offers the trip from kids worshipping far-off heroes to the acts of a nation more credence than they could possibly need. There are few recording artists, let alone writers, who still think they can change the world, or bother trying at this point, but Williams does not sink to the level of chronicling personal problems; he projects them onto the things he sees in the streets. While Williams will never be widely regarded as the sort of vital artist the world desperately needs, with Saul Williams he proves that is exactly what he is. [www.saulwilliams.com]

Failure enjoyed a nice, albeit limited run during the 90’s, releasing three albums, each building upon the previous both thematically and creatively. They didn’t benefit much from record sales but built a sturdy fan-base due largely to opportunistic touring and across-the-board praise from critics and fellow musicians. In 1997, at their creative and commercial peak, the group disbanded citing internal problems. Golden: Unreleased Sounds and Images, a CD/DVD set, helps shed some light on these problems and throws long-starving fans a few bones in the form of demos and session outtakes. A majority of the CD side is made up of 4-track demos drawn from early-era recordings. Their sharp song writing sensibilities are plainly evident in a few of the tracks ("Shrine", "Mange", "Golden"), but the fact of the matter is these are demos and outtakes, and for the most part they sound like it. The razor sharp production skills they developed during their ascension are faintly present here, and when contrasting this to their later work, it shows what a big part of their sound this production was. Because of their usage of drum machines on demo recordings (a practice explained on the DVD) the few tracks containing real drums ("Petting the Carpet", "Wake Up") carry an added energy, but most of what you’ll find here falls short of their more focused studio recordings. The DVD is where the real…ahem...gold is found. A documentary backed by separate commentary tracks from Ken Andrews and Greg Edwards is what most die-hards will get off on. Home movies, concert footage and stills tell the story of the band as they progressed from the Steve Albini produced misfire Comfort (the band will tell you it was their fault), to the sticky pop-grunge of Magnified and through the cinematic masterpiece Fantastic Planet. Though the documentary seems to be of little value without the commentary, it is laced with rough-cuts and works in progress that highlight the bands spacey-brilliance, most notably the way early live track “I Can See Houses,” which may be the best piece in the set. Three music videos containing commentary tracks (“Undone”, “Stuck on You” and “Destination Unknown” from their one-off project Replicants) are also included along with a handful of slideshows, making the DVD alone a completist’s treasure. If you’ve never heard of Failure or only know them by reference, this won’t make you a fan (go buy Fantastic Planet and thank me later). It is mainly for those who always wondered what brought the band down and for fans who, seven years after the fact, still itch for more. [www.kenandrews.com]

The debut EP from Prosaics comes with a suggestion to file them under My Bloody Valentine, Interpol, New Order and Joy Division. While that’s all well and good, there’s something being missed about the band. On Aghast Agape Prosaics plays harder, and probably faster, than any of those bands. And unlike the rest of those bands, with the exception of Interpol, they sound like they’re enjoying themselves. If one is to follow the imagined melding of those four bands, Prosaics is basically a hip, noise-leaning goth-like band, which isn’t far from the truth. Vocalist Andy Comer does sometimes sound like he’s dying when he sings, but more in a desperate sense of detachment and yet not detached sort of way, rather than an I-wish-I-was-dying way. Comer’s guitar playing occasionally harkens back to The Cure, as does the arrangement of the songs. And at the same time, this comes in a nearly Black Rebel Motorcycle Club sort of arrangement, only not drenched in feedback or some dirge-like wall of guitar sound, also a la My Bloody Valentine. There seems to be a lot of 80s, possibly new wave, influence appearing in the bands hip music circles are embracing lately, so it should come as no surprise that Prosaics may, though probably not, be the second coming of goth, by way of New York. And yet, they are poppier than this pigeonholing lends them. Not pop in the Billboard sense of the word; pop as in the snapping pace of the songs. And, reference point or not, this band is not goth. Regardless, it is true that you can rock and not be party-happy all at the same time. Prosaics has brought it to you, and the tight sounds of Aghast Agape is where it's at. [www.prosaics.com]

Following in the path of Kool Keith, complete with numerous monikers, but more prolific than Keith bothers to be, MF Doom has claimed a place at the top of the underground hip-hop heap. The mad villain’s tasty second album of the year, MM…Food, doesn’t necessarily blaze new trails but lives up to his personal standard of sounding like nothing else out there. As always, the sampling is top notch, with snips of the classic Fantastic Four cartoons and Sesame Street’s Cookie Monster standing out among a smattering other found sounds. Doom’s beats are choppy chic, more a credit to his rough style than a lack of effort. On top of Doom’s own productions, Count Bass D brings Dr. Dre’s “Fuck You” to the Doomiverse; Madlib brings the jazz to “One Beer;” and Mr. Fantastik’s guest turn on “Rapp Snitch Knishes,” well, they’re rapping about knishes and being badass, could it really be horrid? (No, it surely cannot, if you had any doubt.) With all the talk of food and superheroes (and villians) and all the other random stuff, the kind of boasting that beats rapping about bitches, guns or Christopher Reeve is what really makes this album worth listening to. [www.rhymesayers.com]

The label sampler CD often unknowingly works against itself. First off, if the label's roster isn't really all that dynamic in sound, it is quite possible that it will be impossible to differentiate between artists, so what's the point in discovering a specific artist if they all sound the same? Secondly, the possibility exists that the one song included on the sampler really isn't that representative of a bands sound. Just because one song is upbeat and catchy as hell doesn't mean the rest of the disc is going to be. Jade Trees second installment of Location is Everything does a good job of conquering both of these problems. The range of musical styles on the disc varies enough from track to track that you get the feeling the label is putting out whatever they feel is a strong record, not just a hodge podge of the same recycled crap over and over. Volume 2 has its fair share of hardcore/punk influenced artists like From Ashes Rise, Kid Dynamite, or Paint It black, but artists like Cex, Pedro The Lion, Denali, or Statistics keep anything from sounding too homogenous. Oddly enough, the disc manages to conquer the problem of tricking the listener into snagging an album based purely off of one song. While not every artist has two songs included here, enough of them (Statistics, Paint It Black, Onelinedrawing, Cex, From Ashes Rise) do in order to sort of clue you in to the sort of variety you're going to get from a full-length disc. Samplers can be a great way to expose new artists, or they can be a really easy way to let everyone know that a label has no variety and nothing to offer beyond one simple trick. Jade Tree comes out on top with this one showing that they have a variety of styles to offer. I recommend picking up Volume 1 or Volume 2 if you ever see it available on the cheap, or just browse their site and snag a bunch of mp3's to make your own. [www.jadetree.com]

To start off there are a lot of songs on this album. 30 songs to be exact, but then again it’s The National Acrobat’s Complete Recordings, so you kind of have to put them all on there or it would become The National Acrobat’s Semi-Complete Recordings and few things in this world sound less impressive then a semi-complete recordings collection. It’s the rough equivalent to reading an abridged book. You’re not really reading it, you’re just looking at someone else’s notes. So now that the need for the 76 minutes of the 30 songs has been established, I feel that I can continue. The National Acrobat took their influences from DC punk, hardcore, noisecore, and other different cores of varying extremity. The tracks are harsh and abrasive and very, very intense. Stylistically, TNA’s songs jumped from hardcore to emo to metal to punk. However, throughout their career TNA was able to keep an edge that helped to ward off the short comings that traditionally come with the aforementioned genres. This edge was probably due to the fact that they were only together for 2 years, but in those 2 years they managed to achieve what other artists’ decades of trying and public torture never could; it’s youthful and it’s real. It’s not a particularly artistic album. I don’t listen to it to get inspired to create abstract art. It’s an emo album, but not in the sense that we’ve come to know emo. This is an album based on real thoughts and emotions sung in a brutal and straight forward manner, not through a whiney campfire sing-a-long. They weren’t trying to get us to identify with them to push units. They were just making the music that it made sense for them to make. [www.initialrecords.com]

Sometimes you get writers block. A four month block is no excuse, but I’m excited to be breaking out. It all started with this album. I know I sort of like it, I just can’t seem to accurately describe why. So I did some research… Apparently, Old Devil Moon is a side project for the hardcore band, Suicide Note. I’ve never heard of Suicide Note, and I’m not that familiar with hardcore, so I listen without preconceived expectations. What I hear is hints of Nirvana, Stone Temple Pilots and The Pixies. Remember, I said hints, but those touches make Midnight and Bright digestable. The first two tracks regurgitate the power pop taste the Foo Fighters bake up. The title track is most reminiscent of a Kurt Cobain eulogy. The song’s complete lyrics are as follows: “Here’s one last lie. It’s midnight and bright / Such a perfect way to say goodbye / You should have been my best friend on our way back down.” Glimpses of The Stone Temple Pilots are obvious in “Echoes of Sunshine,” and elements of 311 shine on “Lay it Down” and “Used to Being Dead.” “Cybil” straddles the fine line between alternative angst and hardcore. Ultimately, the hardcore drum speed overwhelms the melodic verses. The significant problem with this album is…the significant problem with this album is…the significant problem with this album is…the significant problem with this album is…Repetition. Let’s give Old Devil Moon credit for branching out. But let’s not give them too much because better bands have made better music before. If you’re an Old Devil Moon fan with an open mind, you’ll tolerate Midnight and Bright and pray that it’s just a phase… [Not Online]

It seems I'm the sole member of the Silent Uproar staff to undertake reviewing these Take Action! compilations; the past two installments in the series also found their way into my hands. And while Sub City never initiates a new format for these releases--2 discs to each, a low price of around 5 bucks, and proceeds that benefit the National Hopeline Network, any desire I've had for these collections has long since dwindled and died. I find the Take Action! albums to be scant of worthwhile material, while simultaneously overflowing with monotonous, trendy pop-punk/emo/psuedo-hardcore, etc. Whatever you want to call it; it's there. And what makes it hard to review one of these records is that while the majority of the music may be garbage, the reasons behind the creation of such a compilation are very admirable and important. While being devoid of much previously unreleased material, Take Action! Volume 4 manages to point to a handful of quality bands, mainly ones that have already roused enough attention on their own--the Dillinger Escape Plan, Coheed & Cambria, NOFX, and Taking Back Sunday are the compilation's heavy hitters. Murder By Death, the Detachment Kit, ROY, Against Me!, and Pedro the Lion all lend quality songs, but as previously stated, Take Action! Volume 4 just has too many of the whiny, overdone, unoriginal teen-angst atrocities that I personally can't swallow--Boys Night Out, Hawthorne Heights, Underoath, Rufio, etc. That list could go on and on, but I'll let it die here. Fear Before the March of Flames, Shadows Fall, Mastadon, and Terror add some heaviness to even out the aforementioned whining, but these songs do little to make amends. Disc 1 regains some cool points near the end with slightly better than mediocre cuts from the New Mexican Disaster Squad (Strike Anywhere-ish hardcore), A Wilhelm Scream (formerly known as Smackin' Isaiah), V.P.R. (decent DC hardcore), the Briggs' gang-vocal heavy street punk, and Go Betty Go's typical (but strangely tolerable) pop-punk. Disc 2 offers little that hasn't been talked about already, besides Ted Leo's splendid cover of Split Enz's "Six Months in a Leaky Boat," Melee's bouncy indie rock on "The War," and Comminique's keyboard pop on "Perfect Weapon." So, you really must ask yourself, "Do I want to support a suicide hotline and wade through a massive pile of crap music to obtain a handful of good songs for the low price of 5-6 bucks, or would I rather buy the family dinner from Wendy's $1 menu?" This is a question I'd have to think long and hard about, as should you. [www.takeactiontour.com]

The Methadones are one of those bands where you just always know what to expect. Like their pop-punk brethen Screeching Weasel, Squirtgun, and the Riverdales, the Methadones never do anything especially spectacular, but rarely will they let their fans down. Always putting out something pleasing and enjoyable is what this band aims to do, and the Methadones constantly hit their target. Apparently, Not Economically Viable is loosely based on the film Falling Down, which I can't say I've seen, but it can't hurt to throw out that little nugget of knowledge. Those of you who've seen the movie can probably pick up on the similarities, but to me, this record is just a solid punk rock record, leaning towards the melodic side as well as any in the game, next to the Descendents, of course. But since I'm supposed to review the music, I'll make an attempt. There's not a lot detail that I can throw your way; the Methadones are masters at crafting catchy, unrelenting punk rock. Nothing original, nothing exceptional, and not profound in the least, but very enjoyable, at worst. With Dan Schafer (aka Dan Vapid) of Screeching Weasel at the helm, and fellow Weasel Mass Giorgini signing on as producer, it's not a surprise that the Methadones are at the top of today's pop-punk game. The Starting Line? Yellowcard? Who needs them? If you're over 18 you probably don't like those bands anyway, but if you are, and you want to keep some sort of credibility as a punk rock fan, throw away the Ataris albums and give this one a chance. [www.methadones.com]

Page Hamilton has always been a man who wanted creative control over his projects. Helmet, an influential band in the modern rock world, was no exception. After the 1997 release Aftertaste, Helmet looked to be shelved like a trophy piece from an award winning collection of kick ass. That changed in 2003. While listening to a radio-station, Hamilton picked up on a caller who proclaimed to the DJ that the music of today could not match the lore, musicianship, and pure ball-busting rawness of Helmet. So Helmet reunited with hand-selected members, and the beat-down commenced. Size Matters continues the aural fury of the band’s preceding albums. “Smart” opens the album with a sludge-filled guitar vengeance and vocal growl that makes any of the rap/metal predecessors or pretenders quiver in fear. “Crashing Foreign Cars” ramps up the RPM’s and sets the segue into the hot number and radio hit of the album, “See You Dead,” a catchy fist pumping number itself. The remainder of the album reminds us why Helmet set the stage for many of the today’s acts. Aggression is the poetry of Page Hamilton, and he does it well regardless of how many years he takes off. [www.helmetmusic.com]