Former drummer and super-leggy rocker, James Schlavunos and The Vanity Set are back with their sophomore album, Little Stabs of Happiness, an album filled to the brink with daunting, enigmatic tell-tales and verbose lyrics. Those of you familiar with Mr. Schlavunos may remember him from the just-as-creepy Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, but he has also performed his services for the likes of such bands as The Cramps, The Jerks, Sonic Youth and Teenage Jesus. From the first track, “The Big Bang,” with its slow, creepy-crawly guitars, harmoniously, hypnotizing vocals (thanks to the lovely Catherine Mendola) and bass that seems to drip from the speakers, to the title track, “Little Stabs of Happiness,” I imagined that I was in the company of (or conceivably captured by) a nomadic freak show. I anticipated that at any moment, odd-legged babies and awfully hairy women would surface above the edge of my bed and taunt me with small, hairy hands. Of course, Schlavunos is the magical ringleader—would he fit any other role better? The Vanity Set also thrive in making the Bee Gees’ “I Started A Joke” seem wickedly delicious, yet all-the-more charming. While all of the tunes on the album are alluring features of death, despair, and things that go bump in the night, I must suggest to you “No Regrets,” a tune that builds its character slowly, but surely. It rises to the occasion, creeping inch-by-inch until all that is left are the screams of guitars, the growls of the bass and a celestial choir that compliments bewilderment of the shackles of love with perfect climaxes in Schlavunos’s voice and a touch of clarinet played by Jennifer Carey. The closing track, “The Bell Song,” brings loopy drumbeats while it dances and swirls about your head. It allows for the same manifestation as Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Bells.” Perhaps that is why I love this album. It is rich in difference, and though the element of death is present, it is very much alive. It takes me to some hidden area of the forest, home to gypsy-midgets and some amazing lizard boy...well, it does! Little Stabs of Happiness delivers just what the name implies, and as the title track sings: “Let temptation have its wicked way.” If you have not already, grip your hairy claws—er, hands—on it now. [www.thevanityset.com]

Having first heard Gary Jules as most other people heard him, on the Donnie Darko soundtrack covering "Mad World" by Tears For Fears, I'm not sure what I expected from his solo release. Certainly not a disc of covers from legitimate 80's bands done in a mildly creepy and morose way - that'd be too easy (though the song is on the disc). What you get is a disc of 12 tracks true to the singer-songwriter mentality of the 70's. If Cat Stevens is your thing, then Gary Jules is your thing. If you were considering checking out his full-length of work based entirely on what you heard from the Donnie Darko soundtrack, you will be severly disappointed. Not that songs like "Pills," "Broke Window," or "Patchwork G" aren't skillfully done, but they are more likely to feature slide guitar, harmonica, or mandolin before they repeat the stripped down piano stylings of "Mad World." It is kind of a shame that Donnie Darko will expose Gary Jules to so many people in such the wrong audience. Being known for a cover song from a soundtrack about a teens struggle with circular time travel is not exactly appropriate for such a talented storyteller and songwriter. To really get your feet wet with Mr. Jules, I suggest listening to "Broke Window" or "Keep" - some of his finer work. [www.garyjules.com]

There is a small club in Houston called Numbers that I have been to a few times. My first visit went well and an entertaining add-on to the night was the video screens that were filled with funny black and white movies starring dogs while alternative music played in the background; a nice in between act diversion. On my second venture, the dogs and nice music were replaced with montages of gory film clips and electronic music. Approximately ten minutes went by before my friend and I physically felt ill. Light headed and nauseous, the repetitive beat had me on the verge of sickness, and I had to find a seat quickly before fainting. Such is my experience with electronic/dance music. To me, most of it sounds the same, and they all seem to follow the same formula of taking eight bars of music and repeating it for four minutes with only minor variations. So the new Basement Jaxx album hits my desk, and what am I to do? I ignore the past and concentrate on what comes through the speakers. Did it win me over to exploring the genre? No. But did it end up being a quietly nice surprise of an album? Yes. Kish Kash doesn’t stray too far from the proven formula that has kept the band around longer than most, but it does keep the listener jumping and jiving for the majority of its tracks. “Good Luck” is a very catchy and danceable song that is immediately infectious to any listener, fan of the genre or not. “Right Here’s The Spot” marks the first of two tracks featuring Meshell N’dgeocello (you remember the John Cougar video right?). It’s more standard electronica but still has enough mainstream appeal to work. “Lucky Star” wraps up a nice starting trio, even if it feels more like a rap song with an electronic beat than an electronic song with rap. Now, let’s address some of the downfalls of the album. A few of the tracks fall into the hated formula of the genre. “Supersonic” and “If I Ever Recover” both suffer from repetitiveness and get kind of old quickly. In addition, a trio of needless and pointless interludes (“Benjilude,””Petrilude,” and ”Cosmolude”) appear on the disc. But for every downturn, the disc redeems itself. “Cish Cash” jumps tempo right back up and gets back on the right track after its sour lead in and “Hot ‘N Cold" climbs into your ears with a Metric-like sounding jam. While “Tonight” has a Spanish feel that is a bit out of place and doesn’t quite work, “Living Room” sounds like a Frank Black experiment and succeeds rather well to balance it out. Even “Plug It In,” with its random cameo from JC Chasez, is actually pulled off quite well. Ending with Meshell N’dgeocello’s encore, “Feels Like Home,” the track kind of wanders but is a nice mood settler to finish the album (though it could have been trimmed just a bit). Overall, this is a great electronic/dance disc. If it can entertain me (considering the genre it is from), then it is definitely something of note. It was also announced today that it is up for the Mercury Music Prize, so I am not alone in my assessment. It has a few flaws that keep it from great stature, but this is definitely a surprise for me and worth a spin in the clubs and in the house. [www.basementjaxx.co.uk]

I'm not going to try to speculate on whether or not it was all part of Robert Smith's evil plan to make playing the latest enhanced Cure offering in my CD Rom drive such a pain in the ass, but it did give me pause. I finally resorted to my old-fangled bedside CD player and started listening. Well, what can I say? The Cure is, well, a Cure record. It's self-indulgent; it's melancholy; it's replete with pretention...but all in a fairly good way. There are a few trademark Smith yelps, like in the beginning of “Before Three,” and I really enjoyed “Labyrinth” for it's “Dead Souls”-like evoking of darkness and the ominous drumbeats. “Anniversary” had some real potential, but then something odd happened. Robert started to try to sing, and by this I mean to sing like everyone else sings. Robert, please, just do what you do...it works for you and makes your fans very happy, ur, sad, um, well, at least we recognize it. By the angry insistance of “Us or Them,” I was feeling much better about the album, and started being able to let go of the past and appreciate what's really on The Cure as its own thing. This was a positive step that lasted only until I realized the plain truth: If you are already a Cure fan from way back, you will probably be frustrated by the record's redundancies and the general lack of tangible passion that was there (in you and in them) when you first listed to a Cure album. If you never liked The Cure, this record will not change your mind. If you're just getting into them, you will find some songs that really strike a chord with you and might stick with you for life. Unfortunately, I think the breakdown is as simple and abrupt as that. [www.thecure.com]

As a child who grew into adulthood experiencing the different eras of Rock music and loving the passionate voices and hypnotic sounds emitting from my brother’s room, I look forward to listening to current bands that evoke the spirit of yesteryear. You know, the music that renders your head to nod or the music that moves and inspires you prior to that Friday night-on-the-town. By now, you may be asking your screen, “What are you talking about, Jill?” I’m talking about my new-found passion for Austin rockers, Young Heart Attack! Formed three years ago by members Chris Hodge (guitar, vocals) and Steven T. Hall (bass) after the two had played with a number of sundry outfits (including some members of …Trail of Dead), the boys decided that it only seemed logical to rock together. After the addition of the ginger-snap vocals of Jennifer Stephens, the consistent drumming of Joey Shuffield, and the implausible guitar work of Frenchie (which is just THE coolest name), these young hearts set out on an attack of their audiences' nervous systems. Young Heart Attacks music exonerates the calm of particular current music trends and requires you to move one or more body parts—and if you start with the tap of a toe, you will end with the flailing of each and every part you own. Just ask my body. The debut release Mouthful of Love(XL Recordings/Beggars Group) is an earful of nostalgic rock’n’roll, with traces of metal from beginning ‘til end. The six-piece launched their audio/visual beat-down on SXSW-goers in their hometown with heavy, balls-to-the-wall guitar riffage, roar’n’rumble drum and bass rhythm, and let me not overlook how Stephens’ feminine power is a perfect compliment to Hodge’s masculine shrieks and screams. The instant my stereo underwent spewing out the title track “Mouthful of Love,” a smile of absolute satisfaction extended from ear-to-ear. Before hearing the complete album, I knew this had to be the feel-good album of the year and that the feel-good song has to be “Starlite,” a tune that begets those hot and steamy summer evenings as a lust-stained teen. Ah, those were the days. I can’t grasp what it is about the lines “You make me feel like a man/Can you understand?” and the manner in which Hodge delivers them. Maybe it’s his burning question that requests an answer? And if so: yes! I do understand! While all the tunes are catchy and delightful, I must mention YHA’s virtuoso cover of MC5’s “Over and Over,” and kiddies, they do it much-justice. Speaking of covers, the lady and gentlemen do a buzz-worthy cover of AC/DC’s “Get It Hot” and perform the fan-adored “Sunset Sinner,” both of which are on the March 29 release of their single, “Tommy Shots.” Go; pick it up if you don’t already own it. Having just ended their European tour on June 22 in support of many amazing bands, including Mooney Suzuki, YHA have no plans of slowing down and promise to rock us…forever. The band exudes enduring creative energy and a deep down refreshingly youthful clean. I was tickled pink at how much I loved this disc and give it five rock-hands up!! [www.youngheartattack.net]

My friend—the silly boy that he is—advised me once upon a time that he wasn’t too keen on electronic music. Upon questioning him as to why he wasn't and if he had ever given it a listen, he merely replied, “No. I think it’s stupid music.” Apparently, my friend, you have not experienced the soothing sounds of Luomo. Vladislav Delay (who performs house music under one of his many pseudonyms, Luomo) is back for seconds with his sophomore album The Present Lover. The album comes to us after an almost two year absence following the highly contagious Vocalcity, a creation that fulfilled my lonely house music needs. The Present Lover is a beautifully nourishing blend of sexy, alluring, and lovely-as-angels vocals provided by Johanna Niemela and Watkinson, whom you may remember from Luomo’s freshmen album, and deeply intense rhythm and blues beats and grooves. There is no doubt: This is smart music. The tracks flow song-to-song like dreams in stereo, and this is indisputably a significant album to own if you are a lover of deep house music. It has been my preference of music when having an intimate get-together or if my conscience needs a rest. The Present Lover gives your soul music to dance to. The more I immersed myself into the notes, it enticed me further enter into Delay’s strange and mesmerizing world where the complete was as beautiful as the music. With perfect arrangement of infectiously danceable and flawless pop beats, it amazed me that some space-age robot didn’t create The Present Lover. Or did it? I experienced a walk in the future. Among my absolute favorites were “Cold Lately,” where I found myself lying on my couch literally breathing and tasting the sounds like honey-filled air. A remixed “Tessio” also graces the album. For the duration of the title track, I, in fact, caught my little body dancing up a storm while doing my laundry. Any compilation that can conquer my mind from doing two-week-old laundry has to be incredibly laudable. For current fans of Vladislav Delay, look to him exploring the ever-present world of hip-hop in an unnamed project. Delay also spins techno under the designation, “Uusitelo.” [www.luomomusic.com]

I'm a far cry from being labeled a "metalhead," but metal has always been a genre I can appreciate, when it's done correctly or interestingly. Kylesa fits both of my prerequisites. Infusing metal, crust, and chaotic hardcore, No Ending is destruction turned into beauty, with 2 new songs, a re-recorded "Delusion on Fire," and the band's version of Nausea's "Clutches." Pounding, rumbling, twisted insanity tossed into the minds of some pretty excellent musicians = Kylesa. There's not much to say about a four song EP, except that this was my first time meeting Kylesa's music, and I know one of us has a crush. [www.kylesa.com]

One might expect a lot from any project featuring members of the Promise Ring and the Dismemberment Plan. I know I sure did. Maritime neither disappoints nor overly impresses but hovers above a warm spot on their debut Glass Floor. I've always admired Davey von Bohlen's soft near-lisp vocals, and he plays them off with much more ease now than in his "emo" days. Anyway, Maritime has a straight-ahead poppy indie rock style maybe in the vein of an Americanized Belle & Sebastian or a much less quirky Flaming Lips. Not entirely original, but pleasant enough to forgive them for their lack of experimentation and applaud them for putting out something entertaining, warm, and engaging. The (somewhat) legendary J. Robbins lends his production skills and guitar work to Glass Floor, among other various guests adding occasional brass, strings, and keys to the mix. While mainstream "supergroups" never seem to work for the best, Maritime proves that on the indie level, you can successfully meld members of formerly successful bands and make something that isn't complete shit. [www.maritimesongs.com]

The Rasmus’ Dead Letters sounds like something I’d really dig if I were a 13 year-old girl. It delivers catchy pop-rock tune after catchy pop-rock tune, served up by four black-clad Fins led by a mischievous (but not too mischievous) singer with weird hair. Don’t lie to me; this is exactly what you’d like if you were a 13 year-old girl too. Each of the 11 tracks that make up Dead Letters is a free-standing pop-rock nugget armed with all the edge of a bowling ball. There are some harmlessly heavy moments (“In My Life”), and there are some teary-eyed introspective confessions (“Funeral Song”). There are no surprises. It is not meant to be played the whole way through, but skipped right to your favorite track for 3-4 minutes of sing-along bliss. “In the Shadows” leads things off with a big, bouncy chorus and hooks a-plenty. The five and a half minute ballad “Not Like the Other Girls” feels epic in comparison to the rest of the album and is the only step they take toward anything remotely challenging. The bonus track (I know this because it’s labeled “Bonus Track:”) “F-F-F-Falling” sounds exactly like you’d think a pop song titled “F-F-F-Falling” would. The thing that saves The Rasmus from irrelevance is their completely honest delivery. And no matter what you think of the style, you gotta give it to them for that. This quality cannot be over-valued in today’s musical climate. If you have honesty, you can pretty much get away with anything. Singer Lauri Ylönen may evoke Richard Marx at times, but it’s done without a hint of irony. I have to admit, if pop radio still sounded like this, I’d tune in more often. [www.rasmusdeadletters.com]

Born from the ashes of Dallas area bands and coming to fruition in New York City, The Secret Machines have definitely survived a journey to reach this point in their career. Not low on experience and abundant on talent, this band has quickly risen in the indie media eye. The band's full length debut Now Here Is Nowhere is the culmination of their efforts and the admiration of many, but when all is said and done, just how good is this album? The answer is pretty good, almost really good, but not quite. Weighing in at just nine tracks, the disc seemed a bit short until I discovered two eight and a half minute tracks that bookend the disc. Two epics? Two lengthy operas? Or just two space fillers? The heart of those tracks is the heart of the album really. They both have great moments and solid foundations but ultimately fall just a little short of great. “First Wave Intact,” the opening track, is in some ways indicative of the whole album: Great melody and great idea but drawn out and spaced out needlessly. The sound is good but would have been better served at a shorter running time and some trimming of the fat. A couple other tracks that suffer are “Leaves Are Gone,” a Grandaddy sound-a-like, and “You Are Chains.” The latter has some of the strongest moments on the entire disc; great beats, great melodies, but sadly, it makes you wait through two and a half minutes to get to these good parts and suffers from a bit too despondent a beginning. The heart and soul of the album should have been focused a more towards its stronger cuts. “Sad And Lonely” is arguably the best song on the disc, staying more focused and more in the right direction than some of the others. “Nowhere Again” and “Road Leads Where It’s Lead” fill out the trinity of shorter, more to the point songs that serve the album well. Lastly, “Now Here Is Nowhere” ends the album like it began, beautiful and heartfelt, but spacey and aimless to a fault. Ultimately this is a good album from a very promising band, but sometimes it leaves you feeling a bit bored and eager for them to skip the drama and get to the good stuff. If some of the tracks were trimmed down and a cohesive focus formed, this would have been one of the better albums of the year. As it stands, it is just a good album worth a few listens. [www.thesecretmachines.com]

The Marshall Tucker Band is similar to The Allman Brothers Band in many ways. Both first became popular in the 70s. Both bands have changed their lineup many times. And both bands integrate elements of soul, blues and jazz into their southern twang. They differ in that The Allman Brothers Band rocks harder and sounds dirtier, while The Marshall Tucker Band appeals to a larger adult contemporary audience. Beyond the Horizon does not shake the earth or make John Mayer tolerable, but it does add 12 brand spankin’ new songs to the southern rock canon. Most tracks on the album are generic enough to please the musically aloof ear. The opener, “Ride of Your Life,” does not live up to its name, but it does enforce the jazzy grooves The Marshall Tucker Band frequently employs. “Texas on My Mind” is a less soulful and more jazz infused re-creation of Ray Charles’ “Georgia on My Mind.” (A moment of silent please…) The least radio friendly song might just be “King of the Delta Blues” because of its gritty traditional Mississippi blues structure. And just like any adult contemporary album, Beyond the Horizon contains its share of cheese. “The Rain” begs you to “tell the rain goodbye” and “Angel (With a Honky Tonk Heart)” bleeds sap before the track even begins. If you’ve hung with the band through thick and thin, Beyond the Horizon might be acceptable only because everything is new. It won’t, however, win any new fans. But, let’s give The Marshall Tucker Band a hand anyway for still working so hard 30 years after first forming. [www.marshalltucker.com]

If you think that the only great band from San Diego is Blink-182, think again. There is genuine music pumping out of the southern portion of California, and on San Diego Is Burning, I was introduced to a variety of local artists from the Golden State. "San Diego Is Burning" is a perfect description of this compilation disc, which sets your focus on some of the absolute best. The disc provides listeners with previously unreleased tracks from Goodbye Blue Monday - "I am the One," Ryan Ferguson - "Wait For Me There," The Dropscience - "One Lung and a Heart Full of Fear," and a favorite of mine, No Knife with a remix of "Riot For Romance." It also gives you a taste of The Black Heart Processions - "From the Shores of A Washed-Up Heart," a tune previously released in Japan. There are other bands on the compilation that had never graced my ears, such as Via Satellite, with their quiet and calming tune "Close As I Can." In fact, I felt so fortunate to hear them, I have been doing some mad-surfing of the Net trying to find their disc for purchase. Math-rockers Sleeping People's "Nasty Portion" warped my senses and drove me mad. Literally. It was 4:03am, and I was fighting sleep and only after several minutes of screaming to my pet, Kitty the Cat, "What is wrong?! The cd is NOT SCRATCHED!", did I realized that, well, the cd was indeed not scratched. I should also add the 50% of the proceeds from San Diego Is Burning will help fund the San Diego Humane Society. Great music for a great cause. [www.loudandclearrecords.com]

My first exposure to the band Text came while listening to the Buddyhead Suicide label sampler. "Sound is Compressed: Words Rebel and Hiss," one of the two tracks Text supplied to the compilation, stood out among the mix of more aggressive styles with its vibrant reggae bass line and soulful vocals. After finding out that Text is actually four fifths of the Swedish hardcore standard Refused, I became compelled to find out just what heck was going on here. Hardcore vets playing reggae? Huh? Did I stumble across a Swedish version of California genre-blender Mr. Bungle? That question alone drove me to plunk down $12.99 and find out for real. Part of my assumption was right. Text is much like any Bungle album - its all over the map, and it brings mixed results. A cappella hardcore sung in Latin is a musical style I'll admit to having very little exposure, but I cannot imagine it being pulled off any better than on the first track, "Requiem for Ernst-Hugo." Three vocalists spitting a Latin prayer venomously through cascading vocal harmonies without instrumental backing may sound a bit bewildering, but dammit, it works. Other evidence of their hardcore roots surface on the bipolar instrumental, "- We Have Explosives! - Schmexplosives?" and the relatively straightforward rocker "The Huntsville Treaty." "Those Kids are Gone" would have been a rather pleasant folk rock number, had it not been recorded in such an intentionally distorted manner. The rest if the album consists of a three part spoken word epic that oozes pretention. This would be easier to ignore if the three tracks, covering over 36 minutes, were grouped together at the end, but they are interspersed throughout. Their use of varied instrumentation and stellar production make for an interesting listen the first time through, but its tedious length and bleak subject matter doesn't exactly leave you begging for more. So what is going on here? After repeated listens I can't say that the answer to that question has become any clearer. Text is, to say the least, an eclectic experience served up by some very talented musicians. If you give it some time, chances are you'll find something to like about it, but as an overall work, it'll leave you scratching your head. [www.buddyhead.com]

With Marionettes, the Minneapolis based Clair de Lune have released a complex and densely layered album that could draw stylistic comparisons to At the Drive-In, Fugazi and Elton John. Read that sentence again. Anything jump out at you? Clair de Lune's insistence on using a piano as a prominent figure in almost every track is a glaring flaw in what is an otherwise well-written and skillfully performed album. Not that I wish it away completely; there are moments when it fits in quite well, but its effectiveness could be enhanced greatly by a more selective usage. The transition between "Life on Remote" and "Passenger View" or the relatively simplistic instrumental "Twenty Threes" would stand out if the use of piano wasn't as prevalent elsewhere. Instead, moments like these are left with kind of a ho-hum feel. The band seems to have a very keen sense of dynamics. The tracks on Marionettes often feature instrumental breakdowns, at first cutting the high level of intensity off at the knees, then slowly building it back up and beyond. This creates the potential for some very memorable moments; however, the album's muddy production all but renders the point moot. Marionettes shows Clair de Lune's potential to both dazzle and annoy. Its tidy length (a hair under 40 minutes) keeps their sound from wearing too thin, and they consistently give the listener enough to stay interested the whole way through. If they trimmed some of the fat (piano, two singers trading vocal phrases - don't even get me started there) and tightened their focus a bit, they have all the tools to make an outstanding album. Until then, if you happen to find yourself at one of their shows, do us all a favor and steal the piano-guy's gear. [www.cdlmusic.com]

Over the last few years, the airwaves and music video stations have been bombarded with cookie cutter alternative rock bands. Whatever genre you want to call it, we all know it when we here it with the same reaction, “Oh great, another one of these bands! I bet they are super original!” Helpless, they are judged and condemned before the opening verse is over. So this time, I decided to open up my mind and see what I could hear. The Welsh band The Lost Prophets are riding high on a catchy single these days. Their first major release of significance, “Start Something,” is straightforward rock with no apologies. At first, you can’t help shake some of the sameness it has to a general sound of late, but you also can’t shake what is ultimately an enjoyable album. Kicking off with “We Still Kill The Old Way” and flowing into “To Hell We Ride,” we get two catchy tracks that are unique enough to pass grade. The aforementioned first single, “Last Train Home,” is one of those infectiously building songs you can’t help but love. Offering a twist with its pre-chorus into chorus approach, it gets under your ears and is hard to stop spinning. The albums second single, “Make A Move,” provides a nice one-two punch that, while not as solidly catchy as the first single, still will be a radio friendly hit. “Burn, Burn” and “I Don’t Know” maintain a nice level of consistency but don’t outwardly jump off the speaker for you. The highlight of the disc arguably comes in “Hello Again,” which instantly catches on and grabs a hold, showcasing lead singer Ian Watkins’ stellar voice. Never overplaying the nu-metal growl, Ian, for the most part, controls his voice to form the centerpiece of the band. The second half of the album closes out well with tracks like “Goodbye Tonight” and “A Million Miles,” both strong contenders for at least a little radio consideration. Listening to Wilco, The Flaming Lips, Radiohead and whatever indie buzz band is currently hot can often give you a taste for the Filet Mignon of the music world, but after a while you just want something sweet and good. The Lost Prophets aren’t the saviors of rock’n’roll, but the last time I checked, they weren’t pretending to be. This is a catchy album, and one worthy of staying in your car stereo for more than a few good spins on a nice summer spin. A refreshing little change of pace from the sometimes gloomy world of music. [www.lostprophets.com]

How many rap/hip-hop groups do you know of that have been recording and touring for over 15 years? Formed in 1988, Cypress Hill is in an elite group. Till Death Do Us Part is their 7th studio recording. Some things never change. B Real’s nasal whine and songs about Mary-Jane are Cypress Hill staples. Till Death Do Us Part takes their marijuana infatuation a step further, as many of their tracks work off Jamaican rhythms. “Ganja Bus,” featuring Damian Marley, and “Busted in the Hood,” composed by Adam Horowitz, are the two most distinguishable Jamaican tracks. “Busted in the Hood” is a clone of “Paul Revere” by the Beastie Boys. “What’s Your Number?” is modeled after “The Guns of Brixton” by The Clash.” Most listeners will find at least one track on Till Death Do Us Part very appealing. “Latin Thugs” layers strong rhymes over a structured Spanish brass ensemble. “Money” is a dance-floor hip shaker featuring the infamous “dollar bill y’all.” “Once Again” resurrects the dying record-scratcher to beef up a cartoonish track. And for the hardcore rap enthusiasts, “Another Body Drops” and “Till Death Comes” should be enough to wet your lips. Depending on your listening preferences, Till Death Do Us Part will probably feature four or five songs you can play on repeat. If that’s worth $12.99, I recommend this disc. [www.cypresshill.com]

Frankly, it’s getting a little hard as a writer to think up inventive opening words when reviewing a buzz band from New York. There are just so damned many of them over the past few years. Starting with The Strokes and not stopping anytime soon, any NYC band that put out an LP with more than two good songs was hailed as the next big thing. It’s enough to make a critic sick and cynical, but here’s the catch on this one… these guys actually ARE good. Ambulance, or Ambulance LTD depending on who you ask, blends the modern day garage sound with a finely produced Radiohead and Beatles sound that equals one of the best albums put out this year. Their debut album, LP, starts off with an appetizer instrumental in “Yoga Means Union,” which is one of the albums weaker tracks overall simply because of the missing vocals that could have propelled it higher. The first single, “Primitive,” is starting to catch on with music video stations and is a laid back piece. The album really starts to shine with “Anecdote,” a very catchy track flowing right into another powerhouse in “Heavy Lifting,” arguably the albums strongest all around track. Going from foot tapping jam to a sparse dreamscape of a track, it encompasses all the group’s strengths. “Ophelia” and “Stay Where You Are” continue the string of success with two solidly written pieces. “Sugar Pill” and “Michigan” are quality tunes but showcase a minor shortcoming in being a little too aimless and drawn back. Wrapping up the album nicely is “Stayed Tuned” and “Swim,” which improve on the previous two tracks by having a little bit more muscle. The album-ending “Young Urban” leaves a nice taste in the mouth as one of the best songs on the disc, building to an amazing grand finale. A hidden track cover of Neil Young’s “The Ocean” can seem a little tacked on, but is a nice enough little surprise. This is one of those discs I was unsure of before putting it in, but quickly fell in love with before the first spin was complete. Combining the laid back sound of Brit-pop with the strum along groove of NYC, Ambulance achieves a near perfect balance of sound in their debut effort. Refreshingly, the album doesn’t fall prey to a singular groove but moves around enough to keep your attention and keep you on your toes. This is a nearly flawless effort that everyone should pick up and give a listen to. Kudos to a New York band actually worth its weight in buzz. [www.ambulancenyc.com]

Sometimes in this world of punk rock, you can judge a band by its (album) cover, or easier yet, by their song titles. But when I came across this Heads vs Breakers album, I didn't have any idea of what to expect. Maybe some "fashion" hardcore? Some oldschool Gorilla Biscuits-ish type deal? Actually, Heads vs Breakers is neither, with a sound that distinctly points to the legendary Lifetime or the equally important Kid Dynamite. Either way, these kids probably worship Dan Yemin, and I wouldn't be surprised to hear that the singer has pictures of Ari Katz on his nightstand. With that out of the way, I'm not saying that Apathy is the New Black isn't a quality record, for the most part, I enjoy it very much. Mixing up Ben Gallup's rough yet melodic vocals and emotional lyrics with a blend of punky hardcore and gang vocals (and X'd up hands!), Heads vs Breakers isn't the most original band, and hopefully as they grow in popularity they won't be stuck with the "Their first album was a complete Lifetime ripoff!" tag that Saves the Day endured in the beginning. Either way, I enjoyed this entire album. Nothing new, but completely enjoyable. Maybe some bands don't need to change. [www.headsvsbreakers.com]

After Bats & Mice cemented their name into the indie-rock canon with the moody, dynamic rock of Believe It Mammals comes this short, succinct EP as a follow-up. However, what this EP lacks in length and overall content, it makes up for with a set of songs that mark a departure and effective transition for this threesome. On A Person Carrying a Paper Bag is Considered as a Royal Person, Bats & Mice portray a bit more energy and vitality than they have on past recordings with a sound that is more lean and drives harder. This, perhaps, is due to the acquisition of new drummer Luke Herbst to the fold, as the rhythmic backbone is noticeable tighter and more propulsive as it builds an effective foundation for the chiming guitars and earnest vocals. Still, Royal Person is not wholly original or even necessarily special, with the band coming eerily close to territory that Ted Leo and Engine Down have already trampled. Nonetheless, this EP is a solid, if still suffering, recording. [www.batsandmice.com]

Achilles' Heel is David Bazan's fifth album under the name Pedro The Lion. On previous albums, Bazan tried to do a more conceptual, story-telling approach, mixing ideas of faith with humorless wit and cathartic sadness. With this one though, the focus is more on personal beliefs and politics, which feel less personal or relevant to a listener (or at least to me). Gone are the melancholy, disturbing stories in his songs (take the old favorite "Penetration" or "Priests & Paramedics as examples) in favor of subjects of "Bands With Managers" and the like. Now don't get me wrong; this is still a really wonderful CD. It's still very clever with some of the lyrics, the guitar parts of some of the best Bazan is written. You also have great keyboard parts that add to the atmosphere, transforming what could almost be considered an alternative-country album into one that's more of a lush, indie-pop one. Every song is pretty much drawn out to perfection. While the subject matter may be more personal to Bazan and the group, I have a longing for the old story-telling ways of Pedro The Lion. I found it really hard to make a connection with any of the songs (save the beautiful "I Do"). It drives me especially crazy to hear such a horrible line like "You were too busy steering the conversation toward the Lord to hear the voice of the spirit begging you to shut the fuck up." I'd rather just turn on some of his older stuff and take comfort in the lines "We're gonna die, we're all gonna die, it could be 20 years, it could be tonight." [www.pedrothelion.com]