The Scissor Sisters comes with a laundry list of easily identifiable influences, including Elton John, the BeeGees, David Bowie, the B-52s and George Michael. The rock, pop, dance feel of the band comes with the burlesque/drag/glam aesthetic that was edged out of mainstream rock as grunge started its takeover This sophomore release brings the already-trademark Scissor Sisters sound to the table. Although Ta-Dah topped the charts in the UK, it hasn’t been as popular as the band's startling 2004 debut. The album begins with a chorus laden guitar riff, broken by a electric-organ and sing-songy falsetto vocals. Backed by a drum-machine and a steady hand-clapping, the song brings to mind velvet bell-bottoms, and Studio 54, snorting coke in the bathroom and roller-skates. Exceptional production is due to multi-instrumentalist Babydaddy, and various guests appear througout the record's tenure; actress Gina Gershon lends her talent on the Jew's Harp in "I Can't Decide," while Sir Elton John's piano work backs the disco-ball balladry of the ironically-titled "I Don't Feel Like Dancing."< > The album tones down a bit with the track “Land of A Thousand Words,” a mellow, sweet, piano and vocals type song that has a slightly Queen feel to it. Two songs later the album kicks back into overdrive with “Kiss You Off,” an up-tempo, break-up song. The mid-tempo track “The Other Side” has the easy, honest feel of an early '80s romance movie, complete with echoing guitar solos, and David Bowie background drums. The album ends with the track “Everybody Wants the Same Thing” which has the arena-rock feel of lights and pyrotechnics encore--complete with the slow -down and slow swell back up to Scissor Sister standards. [www.scissorsisters.com]

Hit Parade, as its title implies, takes a shot at compiling an adequate amount of material from all three of Paul Weller's artistic eras--his early days as a mod revivalist in The Jam, the soul/groove of The Style Council, and his diverse solo career. Slimming down thirty years' worth of material to a mere 23 tracks is a nearly impossible task, but Yep Roc is to be commended for its valiant effort. Missing are the earlier efforts of The Jam; classics "In the City" and "The Modern World" aren't present, Hit Parade seemingly catering to the more elaborate work of the band that would play a huge role in Weller's formation of The Style Council. "Beat Surrender" and "Town Called Malice" are the most telling of what was to come, the former supplemented by lots of brass with the latter calling on keyboards for an added element. The Style Council carried Weller through most of the '80s, and the band's most solid work (a lot of it is good, but their catalog is also home to lots of cheesy garbage best forgotten) is what's presented here. The porno groove of "Long Hot Summer" isn't so fresh two decades later, but "My Ever Changing Moods" is a supreme summertime track. Plus, the video (you know, the one with Weller and keyboardist Mick Talbot lovingly riding bicycles together) is hilarious and worth tracking down on YouTube. "Shout to the Top" is tense and soulful, with Weller's croon at its best. Few artists have rebounded from two successful acts to launch into an equally laudable solo career, but Paul Weller managed his time in the '90s well enough to write solid record after solid record. The majority of the 11 solo project tracks are culled from Wild Wood ('93) and Stanley Road ('95), but one of the disc's most effective numbers is a newer one--"From the Floorboards Up," taken from 2005's As Is Now. For those looking to familiarize themselves with this phenomenal songwriter, there's no better solution than the individual albums. For the thrifty consumer, however, Hit Parade is an affordable and more than adequate starting point. [www.yeproc.com]

At a glance: Some Midnight Kissin' is a hip-shimmying, sexually-charged debut from Florida quintet The Dark Romantics. It's not quite an '80s revivalist act, but the record is packing quite a lot of influence from The Cure and U2--thankfully though it's more along the lines of Communiqué than of The Killers. There's depth to the songwriting here, not just mindless bits of easily-consumed dance rock. Download "Baby Boy, Baby Girl" Download "Song ForAnother Night" [www.thedarkromantics.com]

An album three years in the making, Fulton Lights's eponymous debut ventures into entirely different territory than its brainchild's previous engagements--namely, Maestro Echoplex and John Guilt. Though never of Andrew Goldman's projects prior to Fulton Lights could be deemed entirely "conventional," his latest offering transcends the earlier attempts at experimental songwriting, and also asserts his undeniable ability to soon rise to the highest ranks of the underground. Goldman calls on an enormous assortment of like-minded creators to lend hands to his project; former Dälek DJ Still gets some co-production credit, Aloha's T.J. Lipple, Jean Cook (of Ida and Beauty Pill), Dälek's Oktopus, and Karen Waltuch (collabs with Wilco and The Walkmen) are a few of the names in the talented ensemble that take Fulton Lights from an ambitious solo project to its fully-realized, living, breathing state. Centralized around what the press release calls "minimalist hip-hop, boom-bap" beats, the disparate elements of Fulton Lights coalesce to create something cosmopolitan, both in its inner-workings and its aural output. It's a city-fueled record, with noisy, vibrant soundscapes sounding as if pulled directly from a Brooklyn night. Multiple stringed instruments appear throughout, but the focus is Goldman's restrained, ethereal vocalizing and the basal drum beats. "Thank God For the Evening News," the sarcasm-drenched first song, balances orchestrated indie pop with a raw hip-hop backbone, while Goldman warns that skepticism is the only way of approaching our current state of affairs. "The Sound of the City" is the writer's cry for silence, an end to automation and industry even if for a brief moment, for the sake of hearing "the absence of the electric hum/and the sound of the wind blowing through empty city streets." New York City wears on you, apparently, as Goldman testifies throughout this record. Despite however much your emotions are tread on, though, there's that sense of infinity accompanying it, and it's translated to Fulton Lights's debut perfectly and poignantly. It shimmers throughout, and feels much, much more real than most things to have come out of the city's hip scene in quite some time. [www.androideatsrecords.com]

Few records came out last year that got more mileage than “Sewn” by Sussex and London band The Feeling. It first started getting play on London radio stations early last spring, and by the time the album Twelve Stops and Home hit the US, The Feeling had the feel-good song of the summer. On the heels of the success they had with the album, the band released Four Stops and Home, an enhanced EP showcasing that particular single and their sparkling brand of heartfelt pop. “Sewn” can easily be identified by the plunky line “Danny Boy, don’t be afraid / to shake that ass and misbehave.” Dan Gillespie Sells’ vocals are light and breezy and Ciaran Jeremiah’s keyboards are poignant, yet delicate. This is a song meant for the first blush of romance, and it will get into your blood. The second track, “Helicopter” is a bouncy little tune that reminds me of “Bicycle” by Queen. It has a quirky rhythm when juxtaposed with Sells’ singing, but it all works. And then it throws in a little section that builds nicely: “I’ve had this feeling before / my heart is crawling in the mud, mud, mud / I’d feel much better I’m sure / if I had a helicopter.” It’s a nonsensical song at first that reveals itself only as you go through it. Kind of like a gem that no one else gets, but you can smile secretly once you’ve discovered it. I must say that I’m not terribly fond of “When I Return.” It starts out with promise, but it quickly becomes vanilla and is a little disconcerting in its commonality. Still, the vocals are so lovely that as background music, it still offers something to recommend it. “All You Need To Do” is another song that works in the background. But it falls strangely flat to me. The lyrics are just…desperate? I don’t know how to explain it, but the genius that makes the first two tracks so lovely becomes way too saccharine by the end. They try to hard to be Sensitive New Age Guy, and it comes off as slightly tiresome instead. The above comment notwithstanding, The Feeling do have something to offer. “Sewn” is a truly special song that will stay with you long after the record ends, and “Helicopter” is a very nice surprise. The other two tracks on Four Stops and Home? Well, just start doing something else while they’re on, and you’ll still be satisfied. (Unfortunately, I was never able to get ‘enhanced part,’ otherwise know as the video for “Sewn,” to work on my machine. Not sure if it was a system issue, as mine is kinda getting up there at this point.) [www.thefeeling.com]

Bay area resident and veteran performer Rankin Scroo describes his music both as urban reggae and “Jawaiian” for its exotic blend of cultural elements from the islands of Jamaica and Hawaii. Whatever classification is used, the songs on Godfada possess a definite spirit and life, capturing the worldview of an artist whose art has benefited from exposure to a variety of sounds and peoples. With the aid of collaborator and co-executive producer Ginger, Rankin Scroo has created an album marked by silky, laid-back vocals, propulsive bass and an abundance of percussive beats. Just as the songs on Godfada draw their inspiration from a variety of cultural and musical sources, they prove adaptable to a diversity of settings and musical tastes. The album’s best moments, tracks like “Bad Treatment”, “I Want You So” and “Strong”, marry an appropriately serious handling of personally affecting lyrical topics with a smooth and lively sound. These songs make it puzzling to note that just as many moments seem to be marred by overzealousness, either lyrically or musically. For example, “Wyle Syde” and “California Gangster” contain unnecessary lyrical bravado while “Vengeance” suffers from equally bombastic guitar riffs and chorus vocals. There is much that fans of reggae and hip-hop should find to like about Godfada and Rankin Scroo is certainly an artist to take note of. Those without deep affinity for such genres are unlikely, however, to be won over by this album. [www.rankinscroo.com]

Putting the excessive number of ursine-related band names aside, The Panda Band brings forth an ambitious set of orchestrated pop music with a hint of psychedelia on This Vital Chapter. The Aussies' debut was released by Filter US Recordings, which of course is the company with the music magazine under the same name--such authorities on music are bound to release only quality, and this is no exception. The dozen-track album is replete with strings and brass, rollicking, resplendent melodies, and an overall excellent take on a common style--forefathers Modest Mouse, the Flaming Lips and the Super Furry Animals would be proud. Download "Eyelashes" [www.filterusrecordings.com]

Let's hope the Gym Class Heroes are better at dodgeball then they are at making records. If their latest release, As Cruel As School Children, is any indication, they're going to need a fresh set of career skills to fall back on in the near future. As Cruel As School Children is a gruesome combination of two parts MySpace and one part Kevin Federline. The lyrics are juvenile. The beats are lame. It might actually be more fun to stab yourself in the eye with a letter opener than to listen to the whole thing from cover to cover. But those of you brave enough to give it a spin will discover a delightfully miserable collection of hip-hop ditties inspired by social networking sites, teenage sexual escapades and high-school drama. And they certainly aren’t bashful about how good they think they are. On the sublime stinker, “New Friend Request,” they boast: "Love it or leave it but you gotta admit on the scale of one to awesome, I'm the shit. Just get over it." Whoa…that’s a pretty loud statement. But the best part about it is that they’re not kidding. To borrow a phrase from the same song, this is “not an LOL matter.” Miraculously, this song ended up on the “Snakes On A Plane” soundtrack. Go figure. Oh--and let’s not forget the three “Sloppy Love” jingles inserted at random points throughout the record where lead “vocalist” Travis McCoy busts out a little bit of spoken word poetry inspired by his unabashed horniness. The grand finale is an ode to him waking up after a ridiculous bender to discover that he had sex with a regretful partner the night before. Maybe if we cross our fingers McCoy and his cronies will soon wake up from their brief fliration with commercial success to find their musical careers in the toilet. But that’s just, like, my opinion. Or maybe I should say, “IMHO?” [www.gymclassheroes.com]

You know what’s often found overhead? The ceiling. Now It’s Overhead’s new record, Dark Light Daybreak certainly seems to have a ceiling in the way. Slick and synthesized and almost entirely sung in a beaming tone, this is rock that’s not soft enough to be New Age, but too self-hating to be classified as anything modern. It’s just wimpy music that’s being accompanied by leftover lyrics from better songs, and the majority of the tracks sound as if the band gave up halfway through, finishing each on autopilot with the same whiny chorus, over and over again. After the first two tedious songs, “Walls” at least has a few cute lines, but that’s also a literal statement: it’s only got a few cute lines. “You broke the walls that block your way/hey kid you’re in over your head/you broke the walls that block your way.” Do you really want to listen to an album where the only thing to look forward to is a song that somewhat relieves the tension by not sucking as much? You’d be better off just downloading the rare good song here and there – “Type A” is a slower form of the urban rock that We Are Scientists have perfected, and “Dark Light Daybreak” might be mistaken as a light passage from an Evanescence B-side. If you’re looking for patterns, “Meaning to Say” has the 70s cadence, but slower, really savoring its cute electric chords and jolly hymn-like choruses. “Let Up” belies the band’s true calling, which is as a modern folk-rock/country hybrid, because at least then their high-pitched melancholy fits. This is a pared-down, less melodic riff on what R.E.M. put their seal on years ago, and it’s annoying to have to sit through toy songs like “Night Vision” long enough to even write this commentary on it for you. That the makers of this album haven’t been hammered with lightning from God is proof enough for me that nothing’s overhead. [www.nowitsoverhead.com]

Is sophomore slumping to be considered a problem when a student is still getting high marks across his or her report card? Some would argue that it’s not, especially if the student is having fun and learning to grow outside the classroom. But others would just say it’s a sign of complacency that any ambitious student should try desperately to avoid. Such is the conundrum facing the Australian rock quartet Jet on Shine On, the much anticipated follow-up to 2003’s smash hit Get Born. After a rookie effort that provided the soundtrack for the first generation of iPod commercials and thousands of SportsCenter highlight montages, Jet fails to disappoint here. But they also fail to move forward. The introductory tracks suggest a certain level of laziness was put into this record. But the band appears to be okay with that. Nic Cester belts out early that it “makes no difference what they say, we’re going on holiday.” And to a certain extent, he’s right. The band is good enough to get away with it. The first single released off Shine On is proof that Jet has the tools to back up its cockiness. “Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is” channels AC/DC, the Rolling Stones and other heavyweights into a tightly-packed three minutes that’s sure to set FM radios on fire. “Hey Kids” and “Rip It Up” also bring back the power chord electricity that rocketed Get Born to the top of the charts two years ago. It’s a bit ironic that Jet again falls flat on this album by overpaying tribute to the band that clearly has inspired it most – the Beatles. The end of the record is particularly over the top, but not dysfunctional. Even still, it’s apparent that they’re at their best when they’re borrowing from collective influences, and not from a single source of inspiration. Jet doesn’t score any points on Shine On for breaking any new ground. But it’s better to be stuck in third gear than to still be in neutral. [www.jettheband.com]

I don’t have to tell you that we live in the age of dance rock. 68% of the young up-and-coming bands on the indie radar boast spikey guitars, annunciated basslines, and vocals shouted over the racket. As fun as this minimalist garage band recurrence is, there’s a subtlety I miss. How long has it been since we’ve heard something truly arranged? Something intricate and delicate and organic? Something to accompany a tastefully drunken twilight stroll in the city? I’d say about six years. That might be why this record is so refreshing. From head to toe, it’s layered with lush guitars, carefully chosen rhythms, and loungy vocals just strained enough not to sound disinterested. The production, despite its DIY origins with the band, is pristine. Most of the album’s gems are its lyrics. Take “Elected to tell you,” where singer Gerhard Enns proclaims matter-of-factly “Everything’s gone wrong today, and I was elected by the others to tell you that you should get your tongue ripped out, eat your words and go to hell, God help you. But I still love you.” The whole album, from breezy opener “Clarissa, dear,” to the tongue and cheek “Ice capades,” is laden with the kind of dry absurdist humor enough to make Morrissey himself chuckle. It is Enns ability to express frustrated romantic honesty without cheeseball clichés that sets The Dalloways apart from so many other dreampop bands. The overall highlight is clearly “Place to call our own:” every guitar lick and horn note (courtesy of the Jack Tripper Quartet) is on cue and perfect. These are the kind of tragic ballads rivaling Tigermilk-era Belle and Sebastian. Penalty Crusade earns top marks for attention to detail. Even the album cover is thoughtful! The mid-moment shot of Julia Ruell (of Napoleon Dynamite fame) encapsulates the album’s heartbreaks. However, it should be made very clear that The Dalloways haven’t charted any new territory here. The contemplative wordsmith, the empathetic melodies, this has all been done before. But they’ve done it so bloody well it’s hard not to sing their praises. Let’s just hope this is the first of many such albums, in the truest sense of the word. [www.dalloways.com]

Creating a truly independent record (self-released, as it is), California-based quintet Klum has quietly been able to release one of the strongest debuts of 2006. Full of moody, melodic rock songs which conjure up a wealth of imagery, Victory All My Life ably captures the band’s potential. The album suggests the possibility of Klum one day infiltrating the ranks of bands who manage the rare combination of being both commercially successful and artistically viable. Opening track “Focus” is a slice of OK Computer-era, Radiohead-influenced pop, alternating between the ethereal and the aggressive. While many of the song’s successors could be classified similarly, the band and co-producer Matt Brown (of Trespassers William) do an excellent job of focusing on and highlighting points of nuance that allow the album’s best material to both distinguish itself and remain in context. Victory All My Life features some of the best producing and arranging one could find on a self-released project, sounding professional without feeling unnecessarily polished. Such excellent production is heard on tracks like “Breathe Machine”, which starts delicately with an organ drone and then patiently evolves into a mid-tempo rock track driven by atmospheric guitars. “I Can’t Dance” spotlights the harmonic interplay between Brock Flores and Joe Fraley and features understated horns. The album’s finest track, “Villains and Their Pets” is a chaotic brew of pulsing rhythms, soaring vocals and dynamic piano figures. The album’s only noticeable flaw is that, at times, Victory All My Life displays Klum’s influences a bit too well. The band credits artists like Radiohead, Sigur Ros and The Arcade Fire with having a significant impact on their music. On a few occasions, one wonders where their inspiration ends and Klum’s creative process begins. Despite this infrequent falling back on influences (which is not an uncommon thing for a young band to do), Klum has released a record that fans of intelligent and interesting rock should be aware of. [www.klumonline.com]

Cake on Cake is, as her press kit reads, “a one-woman Swedish orchestra” exhibiting the copious talents of 25-year old vocalist/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Helena Sundin. The 15 tracks (14 originals and one Destroyer cover) on Sundin’s second full-length mix elements of electronica, folk and pop with engaging vocals to result in a fresh, winsome sound that exudes a radiant innocence. As Sundin’s layered vocals playfully entreat, “Come on, come on, come my rainbow” through the album’s opening strains, the stage is set for a brisk, wide-eyed journey through 36 minutes of lovely melodies and orchestrations. One of Sundin’s special achievements is making her music sound so effortless while being credited with playing at least sixteen instruments on the album (with who knows how many being classified under “other percussive instruments and electronics”). As much of the material on I Guess I Was Daydreaming is thematically and sonically similar, the little touches Sundin adds through her cache of instruments go a long way. The album’s best work, which includes songs like “Sea-Microphone”, “Francoise” and “We Want to Be Happy”, place Sundin’s vocals at the center of attention, allowing her to layer tracks when depth is needed and echo herself to add a sweet-sounding sense of persistence. My chief complaint with I Guess I Was Daydreaming is that, with only two songs topping three minutes, there is very little time for Sundin to develop or experiment with the delightful sounds she creates. While brevity is used to striking effect on some tracks, others would benefit from gradual expansion. Even at just 36 minutes, the album seems a bit repetitive by track 15 and employing these techniques could have prevented this. While Sweden has a dubious track record with their pop imports (Ace of Base was my generation’s albatross), Sundin has the opportunity to chart a new course and breakthrough on musical merits alone. I Guess I Was Daydreaming is just the album to do so and proves one of the more intriguing releases of this young year. [www.cakeoncake.com]

This New York-based band formed in 1990, with the hopes of returning to the heyday of punk. Although their early line-up was as unstable as a trailer-park romance, the band managed to gain a respectable following, and released their first full-length album in '97, which lead to a spot on the mainstage of The Vans Warped Tour. The Casualties' new album, Under Attack has all the raw energy and angst one would expect from a punk band of this caliber. The title track is a full force assault of anthemic guitars, pounding drums, and screamed/growled vocals. The power is persevered through the tracks "Without Warning" and the sing-a-long track “System Failed Us... Again” which no doubt will get fists pumping. The group chorus that kicks off “Enemies of Society” proclaims “We are the enemies, of this society,” which leads into more hefty guitar and sing-a-long vocals. As the album progresses the lyrics become more and more intelligible, and the album evens out the power, settling into driving, anxious, solid punk. The song “On City Streets” is a break from the heavy punk, and marked by a slower tempo, prominent bass line, and one of the main tenants of punk: “United we are strong, we will carry on.” A good, solid, strong album. Punk aesthetic. Punk Revival. Punk sound. Punk. Punk. Punk. [www.thecasualties.net]

Crazy Itch Radio is the latest release from South London duo Simon Ratcliffe and Felix Burton. A concept album revolving around a Basement Jaxx Radio Station, the album focuses on the trajectory of a disfunctional relationship, from the track “Take Me Back to Your House,” to “Lights Go Down” and the final track “U R On My Mind.” The intro kicks off with a symphonic, operatic opening, complete with violins and opera vocals. Then, without hesitation into the 1970s funk inspired “Hush Boy” with its Days-of-Our-Lives narrative. The following track brings on “DJ Double D Cherry” the voice of “Crazy Itch Radio,” which unfortunately breaks up the album in that Dr Dre and Snoop Dog concept album way, trying maybe a little too hard to establish some sort of cohesion. The tracks "Take Me Back to Your House" and "Hey U" have the same dated feeling as the rest of the album, and never seem to expand out into anything like an actual song. The highlight of the record is “On The Train” which has an easy, romantic feel, and a really well put together sound. This song is not over the top, rushed, or kitschy. Unfortunately it is one of the few songs on the album that can be described in such a fashion. The runner-up is the song “Smoke Bubbles” a night-club/cocktail lounge-ish track that has a subtle groove. [www.basementjaxx.co.uk]

The cyclical nature of underground music breaking into the mainstream, peaking, and giving way to new trends has seen modern punk rock intercept the spotlight twice in the past decade or so, if we pay no heed to semantics on what's "punk" and what isn't. Past years would have given credence to the statement that Epitaph Records and Fat Wreck Chords were the kings of the underground, despite the number of records sold or money spent on marketing, etc. But that's no longer the case. With the proliferation of downloading and the exclusiveness of the underground dwindling on a daily basis, the underground has exploded with so much music that's worth hearing, and there's just not the financial backing anymore for such a large amount of quality to be supported by labels. Epitaph and Fat Wreck are no longer held in the same esteem as in the past, and frankly, the bands on smaller scales are hungrier, more pissed-off, and generally more creative and interesting. O Pioneers!!!'s Black Mambas unfortunately won't escape the Against Me! and earlier Hot Water Music comparisons, but there's as much of an influence from early '80s Dischordian hardcore, maybe, and a lot of the stuff No Idea Records does. Throaty screaming and stripped-down songs (vocals, guitar, drums) recall the earliest Against Me!, but this duo most likely won't be trading its ideals in for a full band and a major label deal anytime soon, thankfully. The band's total disregard for silly things like staying in tune and paying attention to tonality is a welcome one, and Eric Solomon's grizzly bear vocals are complemented by his concern for the microcosm that is the punk underground--rock star images, becoming what you hated, the death of revolutions, etc. Personally, it's releases like this and the new Fake Problems EP that are getting me excited about the punk rock underground again. Maybe it never left, and my attention was focused elsewhere, but for a while it felt incredibly stagnant and exclusive. Here's to progression, inclusion, and good fucking times. [www.myspace.com]

Ghost Mice's The Fairy War is a limited edition LP (1000 pressing) released earlier this year by small-but-growing Virginia label Valiant Death Records. The thirteen tracks collected here aren't exclusive or even new; the record pulls all its tracks from three splits of which Ghost Mice has been a part of over the past two or three years--one with Saw Wheel, the next with Defiance, Ohio, and the most recent with Pretty Hot. If the folk-punk scene has a heart, it's certainly Chris Johnston. His role as one-half of Ghost Mice, the owner of Plan-It-X Records, and almost innumerable other bands and projects along the way has helped to spark a nationwide movement, albeit a small one. The idealism is a welcome one, and Johnston's commitment to anarchism, friendship, simple living and loving life is rarely if ever expressed more plainly or loudly. Of course, Ghost Mice isn't for everyone. Those of you who favor clean recording, musical expertise, precise harmonizing and staying in key probably won't find much to appreciate about The Fairy War. But for those of you who can connect to a band's honesty and sincerity, and hold those traits above all else, you'll be hard-pressed to find a better band. All acoustic (the band has played live with amplification only twice, or so they say), aided by Hannah's violin and the occasional guest, Ghost Mice's music is supplemented mainly by the ideas in the songs, and the integrity of how the band does business. Johnston's motto for his label is "If it ain't cheap, it ain't punk," and sells his releases for five bucks. I won't do a rundown on the tracks here, since most of the material has been tackled in past releases. Plus, there's not enough variety make something like that necessary anyway. "The Devil and My Family" carries on the folk tradition of family and mortality, while "Free Pizza for Life" invokes dumpster-diving, and love songs crop up in the form of "Boy Meets Girl" and "I'll Be Happy." "The Good Life" is the ultimate ode to the real simple life, taking care of one another, and being totally free: "I wish I was a bumble bee/I wish I lived to serve my queen/flying from flower to flower each day/and I'd dance if I had something to say/everybody working to feed our babies/such a simple and honest community/not making money, just making honey..." Download "Boy Meets Girl" [here] [www.valiantdeath.com]

It would be unfair to label Bare Stripped Naked as Bettie Serveert unplugged. Despite a stripped down version of “Brain –Tag,” which appeared originally on their 1992 debut release, "Palomine," and sparse arrangements of new material that borders on the singer-songwriter idiom, there is nothing “un” about it. For over 10 years, this Dutch band has been delivering some of the world’s best pop music, and the new release is no exception. Rene Van Barneveld's guitar parts are tinglingly sublime, and Carol Van Dyk’s voice both strong and vulnerable. It is amazing that this sexy chameleon has not captivated the world by now. The band has been sailing under the radar for so long that it is easy to dismiss them as a second rate commodity that won’t go away. Truth is, Van Dyk has outlasted Tanya Donnelly, Kim Deal, Liz Phair, Juliana Hatfield and all the other 90’s sirens to which she has been compared simply because she is better than the rest. The songwriting here is exceptional and the inspiration fresh. In even the simplest songs, such as the finger-picked “All the Other Fish,” the playing and singing is never blasé. Then there are the stunners: “Roadmovies” boasts an effects-guitar part that should teach neophyte Laura Viers a thing or two about incorporating avant ideas into conventional forms. “What They Call Love” has the passion and flexibility of a Jeff Buckley ballad. Finally, the Sartre-quoting “Hell=Other People” gets two versions, of which I prefer the slower. []

One Ring Zero’s latest, Wake Them Up, is a lot like The Arcade Fire’s Funeral, but without all the poetic lyrics: this is a distilled album more interested in experimenting with French-fusion than singing about it. When there are words, they’re half-spoken and half-sung; rarely do they shift out of a one-octave range. The result is a series of fifteen zippy songs, three minutes at most, that range from hopeful instrumental segues (“Happy New Year”) to melancholy string choruses (“Karen”) and experimental sounds, as with the eighteen seconds of vegetative percussion on “Johnny.” Other tracks are playful dirges: a low-fi tuba performance in “Lost,” depressed circus music on “The Sad Carousel.” Some songs are made up of their moods, like the eerie synthesized soundscape of “Robert Hunter’s Monster.” And then some are too good to be mistaken for the happy accident of a jam session: just listen to the melodious, surging pulse of “The Chinese Pavilion” or the haunting lyrics (those “Styrofoam eyes”) of “The Queen of Displays.” The one persistent element is the mood, a down-tempo hodgepodge of experimental tracks that chop up the narrative flow of the album. Is One Ring Zero trying to be serious? This is, after all, the group that made a CD using lyrics contributed by authors and called it lit-rock. "This Ain't No Love Song" may be earnest, but it still comes across as a parody of the blues, and it’s hard to hear the use of that distinct New Orleans rhythm in “Here Come the Mannequins” as anything but jazzercise. And yet “A Moving World” is unmistakably a ballad and “The Silver Girl” has an exotic romanticism to it: both are excellent, solid tracks. In fact, the majority of Wake Them Up is very palatable. Given that, their intent isn’t even all that important, is it: just enjoy their postmodern musical compromise between the past and present as is. [www.oneringzero.com]

Labeled by some as an EP, The Baby and the Satellite still manages to provide a rather revealing, in-depth look into the musical psyche of Texas-based songwriter Micah P. Hinson. The first eight tracks are re-recorded versions of songs Hinson originally put on tape in 2000. The original recordings can be heard in their entirety on the ninth and final track, giving listeners the opportunity to compare differences and nuances. The Baby and the Satellite is, at times, reminiscent of the indie rock/folk blend of artists like Elliott Smith and Pedro the Lion with its acoustic-driven melancholy and sparse arrangements. Hinson distinguishes his sound by often utilizing the lower part of his vocal register and by being willing to assimilate elements of other musical styles. For example, “Wasted Away” and “The Last Charge of Lt. Paul” incorporate elements of ambient and electronic music through their use of keyboard sounds, sampling and percussion. “The Leading Guy” uses an anguished backing vocal scream to effectively contrast Hinson’s detached, droning style. As such, these are some of the album’s more interesting tracks and are definite highlights. Dual versions of “The Dreams You Left Behind” bookend the first eight selections and also provide several outstanding moments, including the gorgeous guitar/flute duet that opens the reprise. While Hinson mixes seemingly dissimilar elements to brilliant effect on individual songs, the overall tone and color of the release changes very little from song to song. At times, this can cause the record to feel a bit burdensome and monotonous. Whatever its structural flaws may be, the album definitely contains instants of radiance and hints at a songwriter with much to say and the talent with which to say it. [www.micahphinson.com]