In the tradition of Sub City’s Take Action! compilations, Deep Elm Records has released Too Young To Die. A portion of the proceeds is donated to The American Foundation For Suicide Prevention, which supports treatment for depression and the prevention of suicide. As a means to educate and reduce teen suicide this is an excellent project, because the prevention guide that is the CD booklet is both extensive and down-to-earth. With the list of fifteen bands, ranging from straight-up-indie-rock to punk-pop, and with nineteen tracks there will surely be a band or two that you discover and enjoy, all the while supporting a good cause. Each song in some way relates to suicide, so it’s as consistent as any various artists mix you’ll find. Soundtracks and compilation albums inherently falter as far as straight-through listening is concerned because it can’t be tailored to please everyone’s individualistic tastes; so, as is to be expected some songs will appeal to you over others. The Surrounded, Slowride, and Appleseed Cast songs stick out as the most enjoyable, but I also grew fond of Pop Unknown and David Singer and The Sweet Science. If you’re interested in any of the above bands, I recommend checking this album out. It’s basically a “greatest hits” of Deep Elm Records. If you aren’t aware, Deep Elm is a very well rounded label that gives their bands a lot of creative freedom to sound how they want to, though a few stick with a standard style. I find it difficult to score something like this; it achieves its goal and it’s a respectable cause. However, there are other similar compilations that have been released such as the Take Action! series, that are a better value. [www.deepelm.com]

Yes - it's true that ska is pretty much dead these days, sadly. The leaders of the "ska revival" of the mid 90's have all but disappeared or have cut back on the ska influence in their work - No Doubt, Goldfinger, Reel Big Fish, and Less Than Jake, to name a few. In 1998, a band from New Jersey released an album entitled Keasbey Nights, which would soon be heralded as one of the best punk/ska records of the decade. That band was Catch 22. Catch 22 has managed to release three full-length albums at this point, despite having a different singer on each. Thankfully the band's inner conflicts haven't been able to kill the group... yet. This time around, Ryan Eldred is taking on vocal duties, as well as saxophone. My first taste of Dinosaur Sounds was "Wine Stained Lips". While it wasn't the Catch 22 I'd come to know, for obvious reasons, it was still good enough to make me run out and pick up the album upon release. There are few highlights throughout, "Good Times" and "Regression" taking those claims. Yet, the remainder of the album is just pretty boring, and though this was once a favorite band of ska lovers across the globe, Dinosaur Sounds really doesn't impress. The horns sound great, the energy is there, but the vocals aren't delivered as powerful as they should and could be, and that just doesn't make for a good record. Ska is supposed to be catchy and fun, but Catch 22 has definitely thrown the waning ska fanbase a curveball. Now all Catch 22 fans out there have the dilemma of either keeping the album, as to retain the entirety of the band's work, or hitting up Ebay. As an appreciator of ska, I'm praying this is just a rut the band has fallen into because of lineup changes, and that they'll learn from their mistakes. If you read this website and actually like ska, go check out the Streetlight Manifesto review (former members of Catch 22) for a much, much better record in this same genre. [www.njcatch22.com]

I've heard people say, "it's all about the music," so I must keep that in mind when writing this review. I can't hold any grudges against the band for their "crimes" as of late - mingling with pop stars, The Transplants, and working with a major label after how many years of saying "fuck major labels!" With that said, I'll concentrate on the music, and not my personal vendettas with a band that once had my utmost respect. Rancid has always been a band to vary their sound a little bit with each album; combinations of rock, ska, reggae, and punk are always easy to find in any of their work. Tim Armstrong's poor attempts at singing (which has worked for him), Lars Frederiksen's nasty shouting (effectively used), and Matt Freeman's master basswork (sadly, not as noticeable this time around) have made this quartet one of the most elite bands of the 90's punk-rock scene. Indestructible brings to mind 1998's Life Won't Wait, one that let down a lot of fans because the band ventured off into more experimental territory. Though, this release contains elements of every other album the band has done - the harder, more straightforward punk on "Out of Control", the more fun, sing-along stuff for "Fall Back Down" and "Ghost Band", and the organ driven "Arrested in Shanghai". Rancid knows to do what they do best - write catchy, narrative-driven songs that are fun to sing along with, without making themselves out as idols for teenage girls. One clear downside to the album, though, is that "Skinhead" Rob Aston (yeah, that guy from The Transplants) appears a time or two. But, the fact that Indestructible has 19 tracks more than makes up for it. Some of the band’s best hooks found their way onto this album, but, on the other hand, a fair deal of the choruses are pretty weak. It's a mixed bag, but, then again, that might be my emotions taking over. While this is no ...And Out Come the Wolves or Let's Go, it's keeping the band's career at a stable level. It's not going to be one of my favorite albums of the year, but it'll see its way into rotation and I'll be sure to cut out the highlight tracks for a mixtape or two. [www.rancidrancid.com]

It'd be fair to note that Against Me! is by far the most entertaining band I've ever had the privilege of seeing live; I've never seen a band elicit such a crowd reaction. Earlier this year, their raucous live show, inevitable reputation, and ability to garner a decent amount of national attention landed this Gainesville band - the pride and joy of the East Coast underground music scene - a record deal with Fat Wreck Chords, one of the biggest names in punk-rock today. Of course, when news of this followed what Against Me! laid out with Reinventing Axl Rose, a lot of the band's fans didn't hesitate to lob a couple "sellout!" comments their way. Easy, folks. The Eternal Cowboy, the band's first Fat Wreck offering, doesn't compare to the Against Me! fans met on Reinventing Axl Rose. But, looking past that, the punk-rock tones and style, the folk-rock mixed with touches of blues, and Tom Gabel's recognizable shouting make Against Me! one of the more original bands around today. The album tends to sound overproduced when compared to the band's other work, which smoothes out some of the band's previous charm (that is, if you enjoy the aesthetic of slightly underproduced punk-rock). As well, the 11 tracks that make up the record only clock in at just over 25 minutes, so it feels like the album has ended before you can really delve into it. "Cliche Guevara" and "T.S.R. (This Shit Rules)" are both more straightforward than expected, while "Sink, Florida, Sink" is a more relaxed, acoustic track with piano accompaniment. Yet, despite a few drawbacks, the slight variation of mood make it a great album. It's chalk full of political and social commentary that is dynamic enough to move around to and catchy enough to scream along with. No group around in punk-rock sounds like this band. Though this isn't nearly as good as their last brilliant, full-length, The Eternal Cowboy is at least a work of art that truly defies a label and also defines sincerity and honesty - two things that we're in need of today. [www.againstme.net]

Slowride’s Building a Building is a hit-or-miss collection of garage-rock songs (garage-rock as a means, not as a popularity device). Some of the tracks are very formulaic, while others are catchy sing-a-longs, and like any good sing-a-long record, the lyrics are easy to pick up and full of rudimentary slang-rhymes. “I went to the doctor to get my new prescription, all he had to offer were these words on my condition.” You can’t get much more trivial than that; however, the simplicity of the verses benefit the album, because they reinforce the hooks and riffs that make it friendly and easy to follow. While good-humored at first glance, the heart of the record is a much more dismal set of emotions, making frequent references to murder, suicide, and cancer. Though deep-seeded in melancholic themes, the words themselves are still playful and fun to sing along, which creates an odd paradox whereas it’s too angst-ridden for adults, and too adult for kids. This makes it perfect no-nonsense-rock material for the Kurt Cobain generation of teens who want something between the “I can’t quite understand Radiohead yet” and the “I hate Korn, Limp Bizquit radio garbage.” The straightforward lyrics and basic musical progression work nicely together and form a catchy, but not at all candy-coated rock album. Some songs are certainly more interesting than others, but quite a good listen nonetheless. “And the kids are wrong as they sing along to songs, from sea to sea and the words they breathe are nodding off.” [www.slowride.net]

If you strung together forty-seven minutes of faded, cracked 8mm film of landscapes and other outdoor scenes, you would have the perfect video compliment to Surrounded’s Safety in Numbers. The lingering songs are backed by slight filmic samples and orchestra-esque instrumentation that gives it an aged, full feel. This consistently thick atmosphere makes it a very strong album, though the songs don’t fair as well individually. The traditional instruments, such as cellos, violas, and flutes enhance the antique feel of the album, and serve as a warm compliment to the somewhat distracting vocals; the vocals are more of a whispering than singing, which works now and again but gets worn out after a few songs. I wish that Marten Rydell, lead vocalist, would take a tip from Tricky, who enhances his own whispery vocals with a female counterpart. Not to say that the vocals are bad - to each his own - but I feel like it needn’t be such a singular, exasperating style. I realize that it’s a staple indie-rock thing to incorporate a guest female vocalist, but I think it would really finalize Surrounded’s otherwise mature sound. The music combines wind and string instruments, well-placed ambient samples, and beautifully incorporated keyboards, to the otherwise traditional drums, guitar, and vocals. The balance between the natural instruments and the digital synths and sampling comes off as a very well mixed and pleasant listen. However, I would prefer if the drums weren’t as sparse, and carried the same perfected and unique quality that the other areas have. The nearly non-existent bass is also annoying; louder bass would support the vocals better and round the album’s sonics out a little bit. This is, of course, just my preference, and anything negative I have said is simply due to my frustration that Surrounded wavers on the line of good and great. A slight push in the right direction and this could have been a really phenomenal album. It’s a fantastic record for those who enjoy this style of singing; who knows, I wasn’t a huge fan of Neutral Milk Hotel until I adjusted to the vocals, this may prove to be the same. For a debut album, this is extremely visual and compact, despite the previously mentioned shortcomings. [www.breadmusic.com]

An average punk/emo/pop album. That really could be my whole review right there. I won’t try to be clever and throw band comparisons out there (Jimmy Eat World... cough... cough) and I won’t try to use a lot of big words or throw metaphors around. To put it simply, Remember Right Now is a decent and sometimes downright catchy album of rock music. It is an admirable effort and worth a listen or two. But after those few listens you come to realize that there is nothing there that you haven’t heard before. Had this been released ten years ago maybe it would be fresh, but it is not 1993 and the produce has seen better days. If you like Jimmy Eat World and the realm of music they occupy, then you will surely and thoroughly enjoy this album. I have to admit myself that tracks like “In The Same Lifetime”, “Five Days And Counting” and “Make My Heart Attack” caught my ear and made the album a good listen. But when it comes down to it this album is the equivalent of a summer blockbuster movie; you aren’t going to see or hear much original, but you might just be entertained enough to come back for more. [www.spitalfield.net]

EPs are always hard to judge for me. Four or five songs are what is usually takes to really get into and get a feel for an album, but with an EP that is the whole shebang. Sometimes it is the best way to just get a feeling for a band. No bells, no whistles, just a little taste. Either you like it or you don’t. And? I do. Canterbury Effect’s debut EP, Every Piece Of Me, comes out of the gate with a catchy, guitar-driven sound and doesn’t turn back. These guys do guitar rock, and they do it pretty dang well. So what keeps this EP from getting more praise? Well the production plain and simple. The entire EP sounds like the vocal were recorded with the microphone in the next room. They are distant and just not loud enough. The drums, guitars, and bass seem upfront enough, but still carry a certain distance, not reaching their full potential. Yes, all small bands with debut EPs can’t have a beautiful production, and I am not point fingers or saying names here, but a little more polishing would have done well. All in all, a good start to what could lead to a very entertaining full-length someday. Just be sure to turn up the vocals and get the singing down, and all will be well. [www.canterburyeffect.com]

Flow. It is an often times an underestimated part of a good album. Ten of twelve individual tracks don’t necessarily combine to make a good album. It is all in how they are put together. But when it all comes together right, as it does on Ribbons & Sugar, it takes the singular songs to a new level. With a sound influenced heavily by the likes of Sunny Day Real Estate, Gatsbys American Dream creates an atmosphere of laid-back rock. At times a tad heavier than their influential fathers, the eleven tracks blend together seamlessly. The downfalls of the album are in its similarity to its peers. The lead singers voice doesn’t stray far from the singing whining of the emo culture we have come to know. The lyrics at times are bland, referring to “a father that was never there”, and the usual topical backwash. But tracks like “The Horse You Rode In On” and “A Manifesto Of Tangible Swine” keep the album a little unique, breaking the mold while maintaining the flow. A band worth keeping an eye and an ear on, Gatsbys American Dream comes out with a mainstream, yet creative album that is a work in it’s own, not just a group of songs. Give it a listen. Hopefully they will keep going and reach the level they are so close to on this release. [www.gatsbysamericandream.com]

Daugthers, a five-piece noise machine that erupted from the broken shards of As The Sun Sets, set your speakers on self-destruct and don’t look back. After a self-titled 7” that rivaled The Locust and The Dillinger Escape Plan in pure audio anarchy, their debut full-length, Canada Songs, now descends upon us like a demon wrapped in sound. But however gritty their grindcore is and however ear-scarring their fractured noise may be, the beautiful catharsis of sheer brutality reached in the 11 minutes of this album is heart-stopping and capable of reaffirming my faith in the heavier side of metallic grind and its genre’s contingents. Daughters stay true to grindcore’s accelerated beats per minute, while simultaneously hurling it towards a darker, more A.D.D.-riddled future. However, these scene veterans also sprinkle a hint of twisted humor and in their lyrics and reach sonic textures virtually unheard in heavy music with “I Don’t Give a Shit About Wood, I’m Not a Chemist.” Canada Songs may be a hard pill for your ears to choke down, but Daughters prove their worth with each song – even though most of them implode under 60 seconds. [www.wearedaughters.com]

If you can imagine a less pretentious Coheed and Cambria with their prog influenced stripped away and to a foundation of more jagged rock and a heightened sense of hardcore, you would find Saosin. But, of course, that’s pretty much the only thing Saosin would sound like. More specifically, Translating The Name, Saosin’s introductory EP, recalls Coheed and Cambria so vividly that nearly another other comparison to a kindred musical spirit seems unfounded. However, in praise of Saosin, they accomplish Coheed’s falsetto soaring, emotional peaks and dynamic punk/hardcore backdrop in a more stylish and engaging fashion than their sonic doppelganger. But the real test will be when Saosin amass a full-length follow up to this five song, 15-minute sample. With a style that steals from hardcore as much as emo, Saosin could find themselves bridging genres and widening their fanbase. But for now, Translating The Name will hold its ground, if just barely. [www.saosin.com]

With a self-titled record released in the early ‘80s, Killing Joke cemented their cross pollination of industrial gloom and post-punk thump into rock’s canon. So it’s fitting that as Killing Joke has been dormant for years, they choose to reinvent themselves in rock’s postmillennial state of decay with a second self-titled album. Although Killing Joke has officially been alive for over two decades, 2003’s Killing Joke finally sees this classic English outfit envisioning what elevated them to prolific status some twenty years prior. This self-titled album is pure vintage Killing Joke: its rhythms are relentless, vocals harrowing, bass sludgy, drums pounding, and the guitars continue to bleed over everything in the dark and murky fashion only Killing Joke can play. But, despite this band’s illustrious past, what is going to get this album press and ultimately lifted off of stores' shelves is the man behind the drum kit: Dave Grohl. However, Grohl stays remarkably true to Killing Joke’s classic rhythmic tension with percussion that relentlessly pounds and plunders, but doesn’t try to inappropriately seize the album’s sound. Ultimately, this is another stroke of brutal genius by Killing Joke as this record conquers the seemingly impossible cross between Joy Division and Rammstein. [www.killingjoke.com]

Generic. Trite. Typical. Boring. Stale. Cliché. Monotonous. Dull. Uninspiring. All of the above are correct and accurate approximations of Bleeding Through’s latest full-length, This Is Love, This Is Murderous. This Californian six-piece merge the musical regions of tough guy hardcore with the darker districts of metal to form something that’s been done a million times previously and will be done another million times to come. Bleeding Through are talented, that much is clear, but their music is completely vacant of creativity, yearning for something more than the monotonous thud of metal and the fist pumping pound of hardcore. As far as I’m concerned, this isn’t love and it’s not murderous; it’s simply generic drivel. [www.bleedingthrough.com]

In a nutshell, MxPx formed about ten years ago while in high school and almost immediately signed a record deal with Tooth & Nail. They've since released 11 albums and slew of singles. However, on Before Everthing and After, they seem to have reverted back to those high school days, because the songwriting reflects a band that has never progressed passed that teenage mentality and musical savvy. Most of the songs revolve around girls, girls they want to build a home with, girls they want to eat popcorn with at home, and those that broke up with them. The problem simply seems to lie in a lack of creativity. Many a time, a good hook will be established (see “Well-Adjusted”) but the chorus will become a repeated monotone line; it’s like fill-in-the blank rock. Furthermore, the whole album just seems a bit too polished. The album opener, “Play It Loud”, would lead one to believe it is a smashing opener to set the tone. Instead we have carefully-calculated chord changes and an obvious use of electronically-harmonized backing vocals. “Quit Your Life” is meant to evoke warm feelings and make the listener believe that the band has a soft, low-key side, but it just comes of as a soaring power-ballad. Even pre-packaged are the cameos of Benji Madden of Good Charlotte, Jordan Pudnik of New Found Glory, and Kris Roe of the Ataris. The backing vocals provided by this group certainly didn't add anything groundbreaking, other than a smatter of blatant name-dropping. Please don’t even get me started on the instrumental prologue “Before” and the epilogue “After”. I wasn’t aware this was a concept album. Note to all artists: use this technique sparingly. Those who like standard, upbeat pop-rock will be satisfied for the time being. With the so-called uprising resurgence of “punk” in the mainstream, MxPx may find its long-awaited niche. However, MxPx fans from the past will be left wishing for the old days, and those of us who value good pop-punk will wish we spent our $12.99 on something else. [www.mxpx.xom]

Whether The Darkness present themselves as a novelty act or simply create the music they love, I would say that have accomplished both. In a nutshell, this album rocks circles around some of the other releases out there. In fact, as I listened to Permission To Land for the first time, I glanced over at my CD collection of indie-rock artists with cryptic names and equally pretentious album titles, and it made me think of what a rarity it is that you find a band really having fun with their music. The Darkness remind me that a good hook, a no-joke guitar solo, smashing drums, and echoing back-up vocals makes some damn fine sounds. And there is no denying singer Justin Hawkins signature falsetto croons - he is a cross between Freddie Mercury and that guy from Steelheart (remember “I neeeeeeeeever leeeeeeeeeet you gooooooooo”?). Also included is the standard bridge - repeat the chorus with just a banging bass drum, so the arena audience and the band can sing it clapping their hands over their heads. Two standout songs happen early in the album (“I Can’t Get Over You” and “I Believe in a Thing Called Love”), which both evoke emotion and the involuntary head-bob. The obligatory power ballad is in there too (“Holding My Own”), which makes you powerless to do nothing but scrunch up your face and sing along. Overall, if you want to shed your music snobbishness, have fun, and listen to some melodic rock, this will surely do the trick. I hope The Darkness can overcome their initial hype and continue to make good old fashioned rock. Or at least stay around long enough to bring back stadium shows with oscillating drum cages and tight leather pants. [www.thedarknessrock.com]

Over the past few years, the South has developed a bad rap - hell, it's probably never had a good reputation. The misconception that most Southerners are narrow-minded, hillbilly, NASCAR-lovin' rednecks is standard, gross exaggeration. It is true that most Southerners walk and talk a bit slower, but we aren't that different from the rest of the country. Aside from the fact they reside in Louisville, KY (not exactly "the South"), it's been just as easy to misrepresent My Morning Jacket. Most reviews that have lumped them into some hyphenated label (alt-country, acid-folk, etc.) have usually missed the mark. There are no gimmicks or one-liners that sum up My Morning Jacket. If a range of musical influences is needed instead, each song on It Still Moves carries its own set of idiosyncrasies. So, it's hard to pin that down as well. "Mahgeetah" opens drenched in the band's trademark reverb, which founder, lead vocalist and guitarist Jim James has stated was probably influenced by Roy Orbison. As well, for a so-called "Kentucky-fried" band, the beach music tints to the standard rock n' roll fare are a pleasantly unusual mix. "Dancefloors", complete with a funky, horn breakdown, carries itself like any good rhythm & blues tune should. "One Big Holiday" sets off on a Barry White hi-hat canter before dropping into an intro sequence that can't help but sound like a middle-America "Welcome To The Jungle". It's syncopated verses contrast and heighten James' soulful vocals throughout. The rest of It Still Moves runs the gamut of flat-picking country on "Easy Morning Rebel", the desperate blues of "Run Thru", and the rolling folk of "Golden". Yet, the unifying tie is the reverb; the "supernatural" reverb that James' claims, "makes everything right, like a recording you stick your head in and swim around in." I don't want to overcomplicate My Morning Jacket. James simply started the band with friends as a reaction against the stagnant, mostly-hardcore scene in Louisville, KY around 1998. Since forming, the band has released two self-produced albums, three EPs, and toured Europe without the support of a major-label budget. My Morning Jacket have essentially reached this point on their own. In that respect, It Still Moves just makes sense, because it's evident that the band loves rock n'roll. [www.mymorningjacket.com]

Born and raised in Texas I have witnessed first hand, what has become an increasingly popular backlash at “Nashville” country music. Sounds that are from a big label, polished, over-poppy, over-produced, cross over, Toby Keith junk that passes for good old country. However, country music is far from dead. From the Texas country revolution, to those just outside the mold, there still lies great music that is true to its roots without selling out. Music, like The Mavericks. The self-titled album is a mix of cultures and tempos. From the ballad of lost love, “In My Dreams,” to the snappy opener, “I Want To Know,” you hear a mix of Bob Wills, new country, tejano, and southern twang. Where the Mavericks succeed is sticking to their guns. In a time where selling a copycat sound is easier than ever, the band is not afraid to live out on a fringe with a unique approach of their own. Another trend in recent country music is the new found love of Willie Nelson, which has led to the legend lending his duet vocals to more albums and more tracks than I can count. This of course has led to some craptacular excursions with the aforementioned Mr. Keith, as well as the truly forgettable “Elvis” on Pat Green’s Wave On Wave album. “Time Goes By”, separates itself from other Nelson duets because it takes a song and doesn’t go for a gimmick, instead it goes for a style where Nelson shines, and the reward is one of the better tracks on a stellar work. Flowing together nicely, the album is a joy to listen to. It reminds me that, much like rock music, the best country music is not heard on the radio, but rather from those bands that know what they are doing and are content to stay on the fringe of bug success in the name of making good songs. [www.mavericksmusic.com]

Ride the wave, baby, ride the wave. A&R guys across the nation have been falling all over themselves to sign as many singer/songwriters as possible. Why? To ride the wave of success produced by John Mayer, Dave Matthews, Ryan Adams, and on and on. With so much parity in the genre you really have to look deep to tell one artist from another. And, to succeed now an artist can’t just be a good singer or a good writer, he has to bring something unique to the table. In walks Josh Kelley. So what is unique about him? Well, nothing really. So what is so horrible about him? Well, nothing really. For The Ride Home is thirteen tracks of catchy pop, acoustic rock. Nothing more, nothing less. I won’t say anything bad about the album, because it has a few nice laid-back tunes that the girls will swoon for. But, by the same accord, I won’t praise the album either, because it is just another in a long line of what we have heard a hundred times before. Sorry, Josh. It’s not your fault your album will be lost amongst the crowd, but it just isn’t unique enough to stand out. Average. [www.joshkelley.com]

The debut album by Erland Oye's "real band" Kings of Convenience was one of 2001's most welcome surprises; a mellow slice of old-school melody that melded Belle and Sebastian's pastoral, low-key quirkiness with the classic harmonies of Simon and Garfunkel. While the KOC disc was well received, Oye embarks on a completely different sonic direction with his solo debut, Unrest. Written in 10 different cities with 10 different producers, Unrest explores themes of heartbreak and ennui, but without the slightest hints of boring, woe-is-me melancholy; instead, acoustic guitars are brushed aside to pay the way for dancefloor electronica and a heavy 80s synth-pop influence. The resulting disc is - much like the Postal Service's sublime Give Up - an album as suitable for introspection as it is ass-shaking. The 808 handclaps and buoyantly retro keyboard lines make you forget that almost all Unrest's lyrics ("wake up at noon/to hear the rain/it's a frame that suits me fine") are incredibly bummed-out. But forget line after gloomy line, Unrest is all about the production, which showcases an almost embarrassing amount of quality work - particularly from Metro Area/DFA contributor Morgan Geist, SchneiderTM, and even downtempo indie hip-hopper Prefuse 73. While the Kings of Convenience could continue to release album after album of bedroom strumming to an eager fanbase, one can only hope that Erlend Oye continues down the far more interesting path that his solo effort sets out upon. Not since the heyday of Depeche Mode and New Order has heartbreaking pop songcraft and electronic production come together so well. [www.erlendoye.com]

By some strange conflux of music and geography, the collected recordings of a small group of MCs from one of New York City’s outer boroughs have turned the neighborhood surrounding the Queensbridge housing projects into a hip-hop subgenre all its own. While he strayed from the sound in his more recent efforts, Nas laid the foundation with his seminal debut, Illmatic, and the torch was carried by Capone-N-Noreaga, Cormega, Tragedy Khadafi, and perhaps most notably, Mobb Deep. Through their self-produced work, and that of associate The Alchemist, the M-O-B-B have defined the minimalist Queensbridge aesthetic of sparse, kick-snare percussion combined with ominous, rusty samples, and – of course – “stab your brain with your nosebone” gangsta lyricism. Big Noyd cut his teeth via incendiary cameos on past Mobb Deep albums, and his solo album, Only The Strong, is the latest ambassador for the QB sound. All the usual suspects appear behind the boards and on the mic, and Noyd’s verbal artillery fires exactly as expected – which is this disc’s blessing and curse. For Queensbridge enthusiasts and those who love the traditional NYC-style of hip-hop, the entire album delivers; from “Shoot Em Up (Pts. 1 and 2),” to the 70s cop-show theme vibe of “Air It Out,” beats knock with a boom bap fans know and love. However, the predictability and overall sameness wears thin over the course of a full length LP; although Noyd is nice enough on the mic, he doesn’t break any new ground as far as technique or content are concerned. Even with the very clever “bang bang” soul samples on “Shoot Em Up, Pt. 1,” the rest of Noyd’s disc – however solid for what it is – will seem somewhat monotonous to the average listener. As a result, Only The Strong will only appeal to QB diehards. [www.landspeed-records.com]