Unlike many of their Brit-pop mates, South have always been able to add color and atmosphere to their moody, electro-tinged tunes. On the limited edition Up Close and Personal, a combination DVD/CD featuring just two new songs (and with nine songs on both the CD and DVD), South give the bland treatment to a bunch of tracks that didn’t need to be re-worked. The CD, containing live studio tracks, comes off much better than the DVD. A breezy version of the well-known “Paint the Silence,” the haunting harpsichord of the “Ruby Tuesday”-like “Loosen Your Hold,” and Joel Cadbury’s trippy slide on “I Know What Your Like” all maintain elements of surprise and stay interesting. There’s also a nice cover of New Order’s “Bizarre Love Triangle” that starts mellow before building towards its conclusion and a stripped-down “Safety in Numbers” that will be hit or miss with fans. The two previously unreleased tracks, “Something & Nothing,” with its Radiohead-like vocals and “Autumn Morning,” a clubby dance number with a drum machine, are average at best and don’t warrant purchase of the album. The DVD, recorded during back-to-back April shows in San Francisco and Los Angeles, features very basic live footage that is not shot that well. The layers of South’s songs don’t translate to this live setting, as evidenced during the recorded strings of “Motiveless Crime.” Scenes shot backstage, during a radio interview, and in the studio are also nonessential, as the band talks about the making of their latest record and how “it’s been a long, long road.” Even the three bonus music videos (“Safety in Numbers,” “A Place in Displacement” and “Up Close and Personal”) seem a little too low budget for inclusion. While Up Close and Personal lacks the mood and darkness of their proper releases, it's probably a good document for someone who must have visual footage of the band or who is looking for a “greatest hits” package. [south.uk.net]

"No Retreat!" - Someone says that several times on one of these cuts. The liner notes on this beautifully packaged CD are in some sort of medieval Germanic script, so your guess is as good as mein, herr. But if you take vocals in the language of your choice, preferably sung in a Yurt; a mellow yellow cello; the spoken word version of "Stairway To Heaven;" some Edgar Varese, or Frank Zappa, if you will; a dash of Nina Hagen, say something from "NunSexMonkRock;" Urzula Dudziak's vocals; a viola solo by John Cale played just after he dropped a piano from a tall building with John Cage to see what it sounds like; obscure Norwegian bands such as 120 Days, Don Juan Dracula and Low Frequency In Stereo; the Nairobi Trio's rhythm section; Wazmo Nariz, who always wore two ties for some reason; a duet by Rat Scabies and Johnny Rotten; Sigmund Snopek III's backwards recording of Napoleon XIV's "They're Coming To Take Me Away, Ha, Ha" played forwards; the musical saw player from in front of the Redwood City, CA downtown library (when it's warm); and some scat singing by the Legendary Stardust Cowboy. Shake but don't stir, and you'll get an approximation of the sound of this CD. But only if you don't forget to add an "eye of newt" and a Cow Moo from Wisconsin. "There, you see how narrow our concept of music is." - from "The Heretic," by The Sound Of Animals Fighting. [www.thesoundofanimalsfighting.com]

To call Brand New’s most recent effort an anticipated release would be the understatement of 2006. After releasing one of the most quintessential "scene" albums of all time with 2003’s Deja Entendu, the band signed a major label deal and seemed primed to lead the indie march into the mainstream. And then, they disappeared, leaving fans to only speculate as to where exactly they went. Then came the infamous leaked demos and the whispers began that Brand New would finally be returning. The truth of the matter is that The Devil and God is not Deja Entendu Part 2. It's darker, more precise and much more internally focused than any of Brand New's previous efforts, as Jesse Lacey (vocals/guitars) takes us into almost uncomfortable depths of emotion and wrings us out through some dazzling riffs and the constant ebb and flow of sound. To listen to this album is to tuck yourself deep into the minds of four clearly conflicted individuals, each of whom uses his instrument to express the conflict quite ably. Is this album a comfortable listen? Most definitely not, but it is obviously the work of a band that knows how to take reality, distort it and turn it into brilliance. To call if one of the best albums of 2006 would certainly not be an understatement. [www.fightoffyourdemons.com]

I have an image of Damon Albarn (frontman of Blur and Britpop super-group The Good, The Bad & The Queen, and the creator of Gorillaz) as a man who is unable to sit still. This image is reinforced by his powerful cockney phrasing, his rabid piano playing, and the wide terrain of music that he manages to cross with the rest of TGTB&TQ on this eponymous debut. The high production values of the record, courtesy of Dangermouse, make these rich and luxuriously baroque compositions blend in vibrant and rewarding ways, although what ultimately holds the album back short of greatness is Albarn's creativity. With the exception of the hyper-ballad of instruments on the title track, and a few short but memorable acoustic riffs on the first half of the album, the sound isn't very catchy and the lyrics, lost in gloom and doom, fall far flatter than the uplifting musical experiments. For all that, TGTB&TQ have former Clash bassist Paul Simonon propelling tracks like "History Song" through the pipes with reggae influences and a liberal use of dub technique; there's rarely a chance to catch one's center of gravity. As a result, most of the songs (especially the solar sound of "Baby Bunting") wind up floating in zero-G; lovely, but inaccessible. Here's the catch: this is still a great album, moody and atmospheric (perhaps a little too much), and though there are many sections that come across as premeditated jams, the first six tracks of this album are some wild tunes. Tony Allen, who is supposedly the best drummer in the world, is horribly underused, and Simon Tong, guitarist from The Verve, is caught in backup, which stifles his acoustic talents. The latter part of the album starts to drift in and out of itself, with natural doubles like "Nature Springs" and "Soldier's Song" lulling the audience into an inattentive bliss. Far better to be surprised by the doo-wop that suddenly cuts into "'80s Life" or to enjoy the techno B-sides of a Gorillaz's album in "Northern Whale." As for Albarn's political lyrics, they enhance the quality of tracks like "Kingdom of Doom" and "Herculean"; their only problem is their infrequency. There aren't any choruses, and no catchy jingles, which is either a parable for life or just another example of Albarn's restlessness. In any case, if you're looking for some slow, experimentally-driven rock (think Radiohead), and if you like any of Albarn's previous work, this is a rich soundscape for you to delve into. [www.thegoodthebadandthequeen.com]

A quality party band--that’s Razorlight. After dropping the platinum-selling debut Up All Night in 2004, the Londoners of Razorlight are back with yet another batch of sharp (as a razor), light (as a light), tunes with this self-titled sophomore release. Although the record has current UK-pop sensibilities (Franz Ferdinand comes to mind) and that swaggering New Yorker rock feel (The Strokes), the album is also a throwback to the likes of Motown and fun '60s rock. As a whole the disc is all about quality but when tune after tune has a similar feeling, it gets a bit monotonous. "America" starts lighting with a little electric guitar, building with vocals and drums turning it into something U2 might have created in the late '80s to get more fans from the States. "Los Angeles Waltz" does just that, waltz along using striking vocals, developing into mighty crescendos of guitar strums and cymbal smashes. Yes, the album is good to play at a party because you wouldn’t notice how every song sounds the same since you're a little drunk, but while sober, you might want to burn this into your iTunes library and then hit "shuffle." [www.razorlight.co.uk]

2002 saw The Flaming Lips release Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, their madcap masterpiece. That album, its overreaching ambitions and morbid musings encased in elaborate musical stagings and touched up with more than a bit of the bizarre, capped an impressive three album run that began with Zaireeka. The four years that followed have allowed more than ample time for all kinds of expectation to build for their next outing, whether it be another concept album involving robots and martial arts or something similarly odd or offbeat. Pity then, that one of the most anticipated albums of 2006 is also one of the most disappointing. Sure, At War With The Mystics has hooks aplenty; lead single “W.A.N.D.” (Will Always Negates Defeat) features a buzzing guitar chord the band blasts into something akin to a rock song, and “The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song” seems a surefire prog-pop pleaser with its crescendoing chorus and goofy dialogue on free will. But the intergalactic array of belches, handclaps, sirens and programmed pulses, chirps, and bleeps which The Lips and co-producers Dave Fridmann and Scott Booker use to then flesh out these tunes betray the album’s sheer lack of substance. For while At War With The Mystics ostensibly covers some of the same ground as Yoshimi and attempts the same musical grandiosity, its lyrics are clumsily constructed, and the swirling sound that teetered so precariously on Yoshimi tumbles here into a kind of musical flatulence. Sadly enough, it’s as if the band’s greatest asset, their willingness and eagerness to experiment, is to blame here. At War ends up wearing its influences on its sleeve, instead of its heart or its thoughts, like the band was too busy tarting up the sounds of the 70’s to focus their creative energies into something more cohesive. “Pompeii AM Gotterdammerung,” as cool as it may be, rates an almost unavoidable comparison with Pink Floyd’s “One of These Days,” and many of the other songs are reminiscent of Steely Dan. Still, it’s hard to blame their band for their effort; for all its missteps, At War With The Mystics isn’t necessarily a bad album. It just wasn’t worth the wait. [www.flaminglips.com]

Even in the glory days of the Allman Brothers and Lynyrd Skynyrd, Southern rock was stigmatized for being… Southern. To this day, you can hardly walk into a Yankee bar without hearing some doodlehead with mac for brains calling out a sarcastic request for “Freebird.” That might change now, with My Morning Jacket’s brilliant double live record, Okonokos. This music not only stands with the giants of the past, but rivals contemporaries such as Radiohead and Flaming Lips, bringing the South’s raging guitars, sweeping dynamics, and passionate vocals into the 21st century. The first disc of the set is a little weighted down with material from 2005's Z, and doesn’t truly come alive until the fourth track, an incendiary version of “One Big Holiday” that shows off the top-flight musicianship of each band member. Just when you thought this kind of music only existed anymore in the meanderings of third rate jam bands….a tight arrangement like this comes along and takes your breath away. But the real excitement is saved for the latter disc, on which the band stretches out into the furthermost reaches of psychedelia without dropping a beat. Okonokos is a rich vein of musical treasure, with hardly any repetition of ideas. There is so much music here that it takes a while to assimilate it all. So put it on and start listening. I’m willing to bet that you haven’t been to a concert like this in a long, long time. [www.mymorningjacket.com]

To some, Sunn 0))) are true artistic innovators at the forefront of the doom metal revival who have introduced a fast-growing subculture into an entirely different way of experiencing and interacting with music. To others, they are those guys that walk around in cloaks emblazoned with amp logos who record 20-minute orgies of rhythm-less feedback that acid-heads like to listen to. If nothing else, Altar, their collaborative effort with Japanese metal phenoms Boris proves that both sides may have a point. Fair or not, it is the truth that no album with as much watery echoes and dreamlike ambience as Altar is going to be able to avoid labels like “psychedelic” and “trippy.” However, even the most cynical musical conservative would have to grudgingly admit that Altar is a very creative piece of work that lives up to its billing as a true collaboration (as opposed to a “split” album). “Etna,” the opening track, begins with a taste of what Sunn 0))) is known for: a few bottomless guitar and bass notes that coagulate with their own feedback and delay to create a kind of sonic earthquake. Unlike earlier Sunn 0))) albums, each note lasts only several seconds (as opposed to a few minutes) before there is a change in pitch and tone. Suddenly, Boris’ drummer, Atsuo, joins in the fun, sparkling and pinballing his way through a two-minute fill that would make Keith Moon proud. Hearing the sounds of Sunn 0))) with drums is certainly unusual, but not unimaginable. What seems unimaginable is when they all settle into a lumbering monster that almost sounds like…a riff… like, as in a regular song. Oh! The scandal! Okay, so the bizarre band from Japan has met the even more bizarre band from America halfway between their bizarre styles. Does that make Altar anything special? Not in itself, no, but it serves as a fitting thesis statement of what the collective is setting out to do. “Etna,” may sound like a simple melding of two relatively similar styles, but it also represents something different--maybe not greater- but different than the sum of its parts. It tells the listener that they might as well take whatever expectations they have of each respective band, roll them up in some zigzag paper and spark it up. From there on, there are no more boundaries, bookends or middle ground. There are only vast aural spaces which Sunn o))), Boris and their various guest collaborators fill with whatever they feel needs to be there. Among the cameos are former Soundgarden shredder Kim Thayil, (drone godfather and direct precursor to Sunn o))),) Earth co-founder Dylan Carlson, a brass section and, most surprisingly, indie folk rock songstress Jesse Sykes lending her haunting whispers to “The Sinking Belle,” which is most likely the prettiest lullaby you’ll ever hear from a group of people who appear in their band-photo standing in black cloaks in the middle of a large cornfield. Sound strange? Mister, you have no idea. [www.southernlord.com]

If you are already a fan of Killswitch Engage, chances are you will enjoy their most recent album, As Daylight Dies. If you’ve never liked them, this album won't give you much reason to change your mind. For my tastes, As Daylight Dies still comes across as another contrived and predictable attempt at infusing their songs with enough melancholy crooning to endear themselves to the emo crowd, while still demonstrating enough double-bass rattling and vocal tantrums to satisfy the metal crowd. I’ve long been an advocate of metal bands incorporating melodic hooks and harmonies into otherwise crushingly heavy songs, or at least making an effort to do so, in the interest of coming up with more diverse and memorable metal songs. The trouble with Killswitch Engage, and many other similar sounding bands in the sub-genre that has come to be called “metalcore,” is that far too many of their melodic hooks are not very memorable at all, and (perhaps even more upsetting), their songs aren’t even all that heavy to begin with. It’s as if none of the elements that they’ve worked so hard to incorporate in order to broaden their appeal are performing their respective tasks and so the whole work is as brittle and lifeless as a man made of straw. As Daylight Dies is a glaring example of this problem. For starters, the drums are fast, but they really don’t pound at all. The double-bass drum sounds more like the clicking of a metronome. There really are some pretty decent guitar riffs and the arrangements are not completely inept, but the production is so dreadfully clean that it turns what should be a hearty stew of materials into a watery soup. Howard Jones’ clean vocals work best in the moments where he’s sort of doing a Mike Patton impersonation, but all too often he resorts to the kind of shrill whining that sounds better suited for a Fall Out Boy song. Meanwhile, the “tormented” screams he’s trying to off-set with said crooning sound just as muted and sterile as the accompanying guitars. And these lyrics! I know that heavy metal stars aren’t exactly expected to be the Blake’s and Wordsworth’s of our time, but come ON! If you’re going to write dumb metal lyrics, at least do what bands like Manowar do and make them so dumb that they set themselves apart from all the other half-assed-dumb metal lyrics out there! Are there really just not enough metal front men belching out platitudes like “we all have blood on our hands” and “the darkness crawls forward and engulfs my will to live” to satisfy everybody yet? When will it be enough for you people? I’m sorry if I’m raving but bands who write lines like “can I see your face in these tears?” shouldn’t be allowed to make metal music without paying heavy fines. [www.killswitchengage.com]

OK, I’ll admit it: I chose to review Music from the OC: Mix 6 just so I could have something to poke fun at. I anticipated a bunch of bland and uninspired tracks from a bunch of bland and uninspired bands. What I got was a cover album. That’s right, Mix 6 spotlights a number of bands covering popular and/or influential tracks from the alt/indie rock canon, which guaranteed it would be an interesting listen nonetheless. The album opens with Goldspot reworking Modest Mouse’s hit “Float On” into a sunny pop song, which isn’t as bad as it sounds. In the next track, Rock Kills Kid turns in a boring cover of Spoon’s “I Turn My Camera On.” Remember Lady Sovereign? The female UK rapper who was supposed to have been the next big thing? You do? OK, she does a cover of The Sex Pistols “Pretty Vacant,” which I can see in a twisted sort of way, but honestly, does she need to remind us on every single song that she’s Lady Sovereign? It might be fine for the first song, but after about eight or nine, we have a good idea of who you are, so if you could lay off the name checking, we would greatly appreciate it. Other noteworthy covers include Mates of States’ reading of The OC theme “California” and John Paul White’s cover of ELO’s “Cant Get It Out of My Head.” White gives the song a great sense of melancholy, even if it borderlines on being overly melodramatic. Also check out Rogue Wave’s rendering of The Pixies “Debaser,” a song Kurt Cobain once said he reworked into “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” So did I find plenty to make fun of on this album? Sure did, but at the same time I found some pleasant surprises. The OC finished up its run, so I highly doubt anymore mixes will be issued. If that’s the case, they certainly picked an interesting experiment to finish with. [www.musicfromtheoc.com]

El Presidente is an electronic glam band from Glasgow that’s being hailed as a Scottish Scissor Sisters, presumably by themselves. They’ve released three singles, one of which you might recognize from a Gap commercial or a Levi’s commercial or a Nokia commercial, I don’t remember which. Their press package claims they sound like Led Zeppelin and Parliament, though they actually have more in common with Twisted Sister and a 40 year-old Axl Rose. So, they aren’t actually aiming any higher than to be a guilty pleasure, and they’ve got the oozing synth lines and banal lyrics to qualify for one. But El Presidente, unlike The Scissor Sisters, doesn’t carry enough talent to justify their raunchy goofiness, and all the potential filthy fun is in fact grating and stupid. At first glance, the songs are mindlessly enjoyable, but each pleasurable hook eventually turns into unbearably sweet electronic garbage, or is marred by tacky mistakes. “Hanging Around” employs the musical equivalent of a black-faced minstrel performer to repeatedly sing/rap “baby it’s all gonna be alright/hangin’ around, hangin’ around.” “Rocket,” the song from the aforementioned jeans/cell phone commercial, features a particularly flamboyant chorus that begs to be sung by Dee Snider. “Keep on Walking” has a certain potential, but it’s destroyed by a tragically awful synth line in the chorus. “If You Say You Love Me” is the only song that breaks the mold, transcending the usual insipidity for an impeccable impression of Janet Jackson and Prince doing a duet to raise cancer awareness. I have no idea if this was a calculated decision or a beautiful mistake, but it is by far the best song on the album. Ultimately, every song on the album is produced to the very edge of its life, coating the entire record with a thin layer of grime that is making me feel nauseas. That’s where the similarities with The Scissor Sisters end, because while both bands are effectively dirty, El Presidente is processed and hollow rather than goofy and sexual. They're not kidding, there’s nothing funny on this record; it truly appears that they're trying to get by on their own sleazy talent. Unfortunately, the talent is nowhere to be found, and what El Presidente has put out is a processed, sickly stickiness that distracts from the few interesting moments they were able to come up with. [www.elpresidentemusic.com]

To say Deerhoof have come back to Earth would be stretching the truth, as they will always occupy a space in their own creative stratosphere. With Friend Opportunity, however, they seem to have dropped some of the art and added more of the rock, delivering their most straightforward, accessible (For Deerhoof, at least) release to date. While Friend Opportunity still might seem pretty out there to a newcomer, some of their chaotic dissonance and unpredictability is gone. With guitarist Chris Cohen leaving to focus on The Curtains, Deerhoof plugs on as a trio with John Dieterich handling all guitar duties. While Dieterich seems to relish the role, drummer Greg Saunier is at his least adventurous, pounding unusually consistent beats that offer little surprise. That’s not to say there isn’t anything that would keep someone with a severe case of ADD focused for the entire 37 minutes. The record’s highlight, without a doubt, is the 12-minute finale, “Look Away.” Twisting and turning while taking the listener on an interstellar trip, “Look Away” finds Deerhoof at its symphonic best. “+81,” opening with a trumpet arrangement before Dieterich’s shuffling guitar kicks in, “The Galaxist,” demonstrating a riff launching out of a Floyd-like acoustic intro that any Sabbath fan would be proud of, and “Cast Off Crown,” with spastic punk that leads into an orbit of groove, are all among the interesting sound bites scattered throughout. Usually for better, sometimes for worse, Friend Opportunity feels like you’re joining Deerhoof on a brainstorming process of musical ideas. The album heads south on “Wither the Invisible Birds?,” which doesn’t really go anywhere and sounds a little too much like Sigur Ros. Bassist/vocalist Satomi Matsuzaki is at her most ridiculous on “Kidz Are So Small,” when in her child-like voice she proclaims “If I were a man and you a dog/I’d throw a stick for you.” To overly critique such an imaginative band’s lack of spontaneity speaks a great deal to their experimental track record. While Friend Opportunity might be a little too “poppy” for some and use one too many studio tricks, there’s little doubt these tracks will soar in a live setting. [www.deerhoof.killrockstars.com]

Ronald Reagan was serving his first term as president. Thriller was released. The Commodore 64 was introduced. All of the above took place in 1982, the last time The Who released an album of new material. For a band that has been creatively dormant for the last 24 years and seen two of its four members die, high expectations for Endless Wire were unquestionably kept in check by most. While the record certainly isn’t among The Who's best work, it is a noble effort and certainly proves that unlike many of their hit-or-miss shows of the last decade, they haven’t mailed it in. Pete Townshend’s fine guitar work and solid songwriting are the centerpieces of the album, exploring themes of love, faith, music, and technology. Although his roar doesn’t quite reach the heights it did during The Who’s golden days, Roger Daltrey sings Townshend’s songs with great spirit, proving that emotion can help make up for what age and years of screaming “Who Are You” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” have eroded. Many of the album’s best moments are its most subtle. “Wake up and hear the music play,” Townshend sings on “God Speaks of Marty Robbins” accompanied only by his intricately played acoustic guitar. “You Stand By Me” is another gentle Townshend folk number, possibly an ode to those who were supportive following his 2003 arrest for child pornography (he was found not guilty). It’s not just a quiet record, though. Those looking for The Who’s trademark windmill-slinging guitar tracks will find a few nostalgic tunes. “We Got A Hit,” featuring a driving rhythm in the style of “You Better You Bet” is probably the standout, while the thunder of “Mike Post Theme” (named after the American-born theme song composer), the rolling chorus of “Pick Up the Peace,” and Townshend’s razor-sharp leads on “It’s Not Enough” are also highlights. While Endless Wire is a surprisingly steady effort that features few definitive standouts, there’s nothing terribly awful either. The record can get a little too theatrical in points, such as in the album opener “Fragments.” Launching with a dead-on “Baba O’Riley”-like intro, “Fragments” comes apart with a very cheesy spoken-word part by Daltrey. Another low point comes during “In the Ether,” finding Daltrey offering his worst Tom Waits impression. For a band that has been seemingly touring solely for financial and egotistical purposes, Endless Wire is a pretty imaginative work. With a large roster of session players it’s a little too polished (Keith Moon and John Entwistle would be more-than-welcome additions), but then again The Who don’t have to prove anything to anyone. While no one really knows if there will be another Who record, if this is their swan song, they didn’t go out with a whimper. [www.thewhotour.com]

In the entire span of his massively prolific career, Robert Pollard has never done anything other than write pop songs. In the 21 years since he began releasing material with now-defunct indie megastars Guided By Voices, he’s never strayed far from home base, releasing punch after glorious punch of two minute, brilliantly-conceived, poorly-recorded pop songs. So with nowhere to go but further in the same direction, and running as fast as he could, it was all but inevitable that at some point he would either fuck up or kill himself. And he did start to fuck up, somewhere around the turn of the millenium, when still fronting GBV and releasing what would be its last breath, Half Smiles of the Decomposed. So the fact that Bob’s latest material isn't on par with his past doesn’t come as any bit of a shock. The only question is, how much worse does he have to be before he becomes unlistenable? If you ignore the legacy, and take this record for what it is, then you have sixteen songs that run the gamut between sort of memorable and sort of forgettable, which puts it in the same spectrum as 95% of all indie rock. Every song here sounds like something Guided by Voices could do, but wouldn’t. And all the strongest songs, like the power pop anthem “Rhoda Rhoda” or the ironically-titled “Top of my Game,” which sounds eerily like a Lifter Puller song, demonstrate that Pollard still has talent, just not nearly as much. Just like you wouldn’t buy Frank Black's Fast Man Raider Man to preview The Pixies' sound, one can't expect Normal Happiness to be anything other than a far cry from Pollard's Guided By Voices-era output. But just like Black's solo records, neither does this warrant a “for die-hard fans only” tag. There’s certainly worse stuff you could listen to, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t still love Robert Pollard. I mean, we all still love Joe Gibbs too, and the Redskins were what this year, like 5-11? [www.robertpollard.net]

Prog/math rock seems more like a subject in school than a musical styling, but with bands like Gatsby’s American Dream excelling in the genre, which is generally defined by its odd time signatures, quick dynamic changes and dissonant guitar tones, it's become clear that the genre has found its niche in the current music scene. With that comes New York City's Damiera and the band's debut full-lengthM(Us)Ic (which should be read as “Us in Music”). Having previously self-released the album on their own Tamerlane Records, the group is embracing the larger following Equal Vision can provide with a re-issue. The album itself is full of the complex timings and constantly-moving lead guitar riffs that define the style, as well as vocals that pack the necessary punch. Beginning with “Immure,” the band (David Raymond, vocals/guitar; Mark Henry, vocals/bass; Rock Whittington, guitar; and Bradley McRae, drums) makes it clear that they will hit you with everything they’ve got every chance they’re allowed. The guitar tones are crisp and tight, and McRae’s drumming sets the pace for what will prove to be an almost unrelenting album. In fact, as the album progresses, there seems to be no stopping these guys, as they continuously hit the groove and run with it. This approach serves them well, as the speed and difficult rhythms are two of the strongest points made on M(US)IC. The title track is one of the album’s best--though a slight refrain from the signature speed that the band has already laid out on the two previous tracks, it's by no means less technically adventurous. Other stand-out tracks include “Obsessions,” which is one of the shining moments for Whittington (a guitarist who may have one of the best guitarist names ever), though the timing of McRae and Henry should not be forgotten (especially listen for the incredible tempo shifts as the band moves from the first chorus into the second verse); “Flora: Yield” and “Via Invested,” all of which showcase the band at its peak. Still, the record isn't without its weak spots. The production, which manages to beautifully capture the raw feel of the band, also proves to be one of the album’s lesser points. The overall mix just seems a little off, as Raymond’s stirring vocals, which are reminiscent of Park’s Ladd Mitchell, Circa Survive’s Anthony Green or Moneen’s Kenny Bridges, get lost behind the wall of guitars and drums. The music is so well-done you almost wouldn’t care, but what you can hear of Raymond’s voice makes you want to hear more. With just a few knob tweaks, this definitely would have wholly improved the record. In spite of the above statements, though, M(US)IC shines due to the clear talent and skill of the musicians who've performed it. This is clearly the work of a band that is truly into its music. [www.damiera.com]

In order to illustrate the intensely pissed melancholy of this record, I’d like to conduct a visual exercise. Okay, ready? Now then, close your eyes and imagine the worst day of your life to date. You wake up to a blaring alarm clock that is smugly informing you that you’re an hour late for work. Panic-stricken, you sprint through your morning routine, although unable to brew that good strong cup of coffee that you really need right now. You see, you spent most of last night getting hammered after your significant other left you for your best friend. You’re repeating and analyzing her justifications in your head while you drive frantically. And run a Stop sign. After spending twenty minutes being hassled by a cop, you finally get to work. And get fired for sleeping through a client meeting. After spending two humiliating hours packing up your office in a box, you drag yourself to your car, only to find that you forgot to get gas. As the tow truck pulls up to your apartment building, you’re surprised to find your furniture by the dumpster. Turns out you’ve also been evicted, since you forgot to deliver the rent check, still perched on your nightstand for some two weeks now. Exhausted, disillusioned, and depressed, you crawl into your stationary car and rest your aching head on the steering wheel and wonder why you didn’t see any of this coming. Now, imagine the soundtrack to your misery. Enter North Carolina duo, Des Ark. This record personifies cheap beer, cigarettes, and the dingy bar they call home quite concisely. The drums are as pounding and out of time as the flickering light bulb swinging overhead. The guitars are as distorted as the shadows it casts. And the vocals are just as heart broken as our protagonist. Singer Aimee Argote has a fantastic talent for unrestrained and cathartic one-liners. Take the album’s most likely single, "No More Fighting Cats, OK?" where she states “Every excuse that we make for men makes it that much harder to take pride in them.” Or album closer "For Bob Riecke," where Argote solicits us to, “Lose it fast, lose it fierce, pierce the belly of this beast with a cold dull pain.” Drummer Timothy Herzog backs her right up with rhythmic empathy. Argote’s vocals also have a great malleability to them: the breezier folk tunes book-ending the record present a softer side to her palate, while cuts like "Jesus Loves You" show off an impressive growl rivaling some of Karen O’s best work. The only down side to Loose Lips Sink Ships is the production, although that can hardly be blamed on the band. Some of the tracks are a little less put-together than others, namely "Queen of the Sketch Patrol," but that kind of thing is forgivable for a debut. Otherwise, the whole effort consistently makes you want to bury your head in a pillow and sob. [www.desark.org]

In case you’ve been living under a rock for the past year or so and somehow managed to miss the cultural phenomenon that is Fall Out Boy, let me catch you up. The band came, nay burst, onto the scene once signing to Island Records and releasing the uber-popular (yet oft-panned) From Under the Cork Tree in 2005. There were huge singles, teenage girls and controversy galore, and it seemed only to push the band further into the stratosphere of stardom. And then came the obvious question on the tongues of fans and haters alike: “What will this band do as a follow-up?” Good news: Fall Out Boy has not created Cork Tree Part 2. Most of the sonic choices (with the exception of a very familiar chord progression) are actually pretty fresh, at least for FOB. Patrick Stump, who writes the music and melodies, is at the top of his game, with some of the most complex, and dare I say beautiful, melodies ever to hit a Fall Out Boy record. Bad news: Pete Wentz, the self-prescribed voice of the band, falls short lyrically in many places, not quite living up to the promise of the band’s indie scene breakthrough album or the seemingly unfathomable lengths of his own mouth. Not to say that the entire album is weak in this area, it’s just that those of us who know expect more. The album kicks off in a manner that only a band of FOB’s magnitude could: Jay-Z presents the record and the band jumps into “Thriller,” a hard hitting, fast-paced tune that may be the best lead track these Chicago boys have ever given us. With “The Take Over, The Break’s Over,” Stump warns that the band “doesn’t fight fair” and continues the pace right into the lead single for the album, “This Ain’t A Scene, Its An Arms Race.” With its electronic beats and R&B flavor, “Arms Race” is an interesting choice for a single from a musical standpoint, but it gets the band’s point across quite well, most fluidly when Stump tells us “the bandwagon’s full, please catch another.” If nothing else, the song shows that the band does take this music thing seriously, even if they don’t take themselves as seriously as you think they do. The rest of the album tends to be very hit or miss. “I’m Like A Lawyer With The Way I’m Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You),” “Thanks Fr Th Mmrs,” “The (After) Life of the Party,” “You’re Crashing, But You’re No Wave,” and “I’ve Got All This Ringing In My Ears And One On My Finger” are all definite hits, with “Lawyer” and “Mmrs” screaming out to be potential singles. Misses include “Hum Hallelujah,” “The Carpal Tunnel of Love,” and “Fame < Infamy,” which are tracks that just fall short in spite the best of intentions, mostly due to Wentz’s weaker lyrical moments. Another track of note is the piano ballad “Golden,” which has been panned as a track that should have been left out. While it’s not a great song, it is an impressive vocal tune for Stump and, I think, a bold move for the band that only half way pays off. Infinity On High is an album that will continue to polarize music fans. More than likely this album will not bring in any many new fans, but should keep the current fans intact. If nothing else, this is a major step for the band, even if it may not change the world, or their fan base. [www.falloutboy.com]

If you happened to catch the Late Show with David Letterman recently, you might recall seeing indie favorites The Shins supporting their latest. Also, if you weren’t too groggy at that time, you might also recall a lady supporting The Shins, vocally, and sporting a bit of what might be described as maroon. That lady, or miss, or whatever it is proper to refer to young women as, is Anita Robinson, singer and guitarist representing fifty percent of the outfit Viva Voce (pronounced Vee-vah-VOH-chay, thank you informative band Web site). The remaining half is husband Kevin Robinson showcasing his talents on the drums and singing as well. Together, the couple fulfills the ultimate fantasy and perhaps trend, marriage to music and the person you make it with. So perhaps it’s not an ultimate fantasy- one can only guess the intertwining joys and strains that come with the arrangement, but being able to channel your energies as a couple into your music- really good music- seems pretty damn cool. Indeed, the third album from Viva Voce, the vampirically titled Get Yr Blood Sucked Out, is a fine thing to listen to. Goth it is not. Dark, yes, at times. It is home-cooked meal of fetching melodies, choruses and bits of psychedelia. Simple, sometimes repetitive lyrics are one of its strengths and weaknesses. If you do enjoy The Shins it is well worth your time to check out Viva Voce- hell, they should be on tour together soon. Now that’s serendipity. [www.vivavoce.com]

Apollo Up!'s second album, Chariots of Fire, is my first exposure to the Tennessee trio and they've colored me impressed. The album features guitar-heavy songwriting more reminiscent of bands like Jawbox and John Reis projects than the Gang of Four-influenced bands that steadily storm the gates from New York. Frontman Jay Leo Phillips is currently involved in Apollo Up! and fellow Nashville band, Forget Cassettes, but in no way does he seem to be spreading his talents thin. "Walking the Plank" opens the album and seems to be the standout track from its infectious bridge riff to the gang vocals looping over its chorus on the final reprise, resulting in anthemic qualities throughout. There are a number of moments that seem designed to showcase Phillips' guitar playing with fantastic results. The chorus of "No Song" features the frontman half-screaming the chorus "No song was ever that long / You've got the lyrics all wrong" in what seems to be his calling card, a throaty rasp that feels like pure rock and roll. Apollo Up! will be most certainly be a band to watch out for in the following year. This record left me wishing I could see the band perform live with the polish stripped and frenzy fueling the songs. If you're looking for some great guitar-oriented rock and roll, pick up Chariots of Fire; the majority of the songs are strong enough to use on a mixtape but the album as a unit is even better. [www.apolloup.com]

In what is most probably a stroke of genius, Death Cab for Cutie have teamed up with 11 directors in an effort to have a video created for each song on their album Plans. The idea that each song's video will be a vision completely unique to each director has the propensity to either be a great success or an enormous failure. I think the gamble worked out completely in Death Cab's favor as it presents itself as a beautiful companion piece to Plans. Cat Solen's video for "Soul Meets Body" includes the original directions that she sent out to twelve friends along with Super-8 cameras. She prompted them to shoot whatever they wanted with very few guidelines all on the same day, Thanksgiving of 2005. The result is a completely random game of "Exquisite Corpse" played with film and cuts rather than words and could not have been planned any better. Lightborne's video for "Summer Skin" features children engaged in the rat race. The initial thought upon seeing a playground in Autumn overrun by desks and filing cabinets is the overwhelming feeling that soon the children will rebel and utilize the playground for its intended purpose. A few fleeting moments into the video, a young man is given his pink slip inspiring him to pack his things with a heavy-hearted sigh. A young boy and girl converse at a water cooler, their individual heart mugs touching to become a shared heart between them. The mugs fall to the ground and break, meanwhile a boy's discovery of a starfish in his briefcase is the impetus required for the children to once again become children. Lance Bangs' video for b-side "Talking Like Turnstiles" is an extra and is filmed entirely from the audience. Lance requests the song by screaming the title over and over when the band comes out to perform an encore. He then rushes through the audience pushing girls out of his way while repeating "That's my song, watch out, watch out!" He fights his way onto the stage and ends up being kicked out so he uses the opportunity to steal a bottle of water from Death Cab's dressing room. Although obviously staged, it's a great idea for a video and is completely original. If you're a fan of Death Cab for Cutie and enjoyed the album Plans you will be pleasantly pleased with the DVD. It's a novel idea and the ideal companion to the album. The DVD also includes a band interview and complete director statements and profiles. [www.deathcabforcutie.com]