Baboon
Secret Robot Control
(Wind-Up/BMG)
reviewed in issue #131, 3/31/97

Highly calculated noise pop, sorta like a less ambitious Brainiac. Baboon whips out all sorts of vocal styles and guitar lines, always keeping the percussion moving, if not always completely coherent. A good way to mix things up.

Everything is supertight. Even spots where I think the band maybe oughta get a bit dirty are spic and span. This puppy is primed for mass acceptance. And I guess that's where I'm disappointed.

Baboon does a lot of things well, but the production and final execution of these songs are so antiseptic, I'm just not finding a purchase point. No handholds or nooks to jam a shim.

Which is why the shorter songs like "Numb" and "Time Wounds All Heals" work best. No exposition, no fucking around. But when Baboon gets beyond short shouts of noisy fury, the excess really gets, well, excessive.

There's too much good stuff here to rip it badly, but Baboon was on the cusp of greatness, and the band let someone in A&R (or worse, themselves) clean things up. A damned shame.

The most common question I get from readers is "Do you keep all the albums you receive?" I don't. I do shelve everything I review. My shelves only hold about 5,000 discs, and they've been full for a couple years now. So each month I have to cull out some old discs to make room for the new. Just in case you were looking for an ethical lapse, I don't sell the old discs. Everything goes to the Salvation Army. I'm sure Glen Benton is turning over in his grave knowing that Deicide is doing the Lord's work.

Anyway, some six years ago I reviewed a Baboon album that came out on Wind-Up (better-known as Creed's label). I thought the stuff was good, but that someone decided to process the sound a bit too much. And so I culled it about a month ago. It was still waiting for its trip to a better place when I heard this album. And after hearing this disc, I immediately pulled that old disc out of limbo and put it back on the shelf.

It's not that the old album is actually better now. But this album is great. Baboon still makes wonderfully noisy pop music, and while there's plenty of processing, the additions here are made for artistic, not commercial, reasons. At least, this processing job is perfectly in character with the writing and playing. I'll call that artistic.

The songs here are buoyant and blissful, bright power pop decorated with deliciously wicked sense of sound. Kinda like what the Flaming Lips were doing 10 years ago, though a bit more in the three-chord joy mode than that. The kinda album that will never leave my shelf.

Baby Carrot
Play Every Day
(Some Guy Down the Street)
reviewed in issue #213, 3/12/01

When the first song on an album is titled "Chinese Food & Donut," it might be forgivable to assume the guys might be a little quirky. That's really not the case here. Baby Carrot does play a form of pop music, albeit one that often incorporates the strident sounds of emo and a fairly technical approach to song construction.

Makes it kinda hard to get into the stuff. This isn't an immediately attractive sound. The simple, yet deliberate, attack just doesn't bring out the easy smiles.

So the question becomes, does this sound have the necessary depth? Can it stand up to repeat listenings? I feel better about the answers to those queries. Baby Carrot's intensity and forcefulness does add a nice coloration. There may be something behind the simplicity that, indeed, makes these songs more than they seem.

I'm not entirely convinced. Albums like these, ones of obvious quality that don't quite leap out at me, are the hardest to review. Baby Carrot simply does not provide a facile entry point. A listener must to break down a couple walls to really get inside the sound. The effort may well be worthwhile. I'm just not sure.

Baby Snufkin
Pokey in the Bobo
(Heyday)
reviewed in issue #159, 5/18/98

Complicated (relatively) punk music played to the outer limits of sloppiness. Baby Snufkin shifts tempos, rhythmic ideas and melodies (such as they are) without much thought or concern for the cohesiveness of the song. That the pieces hold together at all is astonishing.

This disjointed approach almost makes me believe these guys are avant-garde popsters in disguise. Horns abound (in limited and strictured appearances) and the lyrics are rather ambitious. Not your usual punk fare.

So much thought behind such a messy sound. I can't groove on all the songs (some change up one too many times), but I like the way the band is willing to take chances. They don't always pay off, but Baby Snufkin sure works the ideas for all they're worth.

A wild collection of scattered thoughts and musical bits. Not quite great, but rather intriguing. Baby Snufkin deserves some serious attention. Something amazing may emanate from these quarters sometime soon.

Baby Strange
Put Out
(Primary Voltage)
reviewed in issue #256, August 2004

The press says these guys worship at the altar of the Who, the Zombies, etc. And let's not forget the band's, um, namesake, the tune from T.Rex's The Slider. So we've got some anglo-pop, some straight-up rock and roll and a certain modern sensibility that ties it all together.

Indeed, these boys are anything but retro copycats. Sure, that opening lick for "Broken Heart Mechanic" is tres Bolan, but the song incorporates some Stones-y attitude and a little bit of Big Star tunesmithing. These boys do have a bit of a penchant for the blue-eyed soul as well. A nice mix of styles that mix well together.

The sound has that clean-yet-thick feel that made those classic T.Rex albums so great. Not overdone, but enough power to get the adrenaline pumping. Quite nice.

Just one of those albums that sounds great from the first riff. Baby Strange has a knack for writing fine songs, and they made sure to get the right sound as well. That sort of attention to detail is always good to see, and it bodes well for the band as it further harnesses its power.

Babylon A.D.
American Blitzkrieg
(Apocalypse Records)
reviewed in issue #203, 8/7/00

These guys released a couple of albums in the late 80s and early 90s, back when metal was already fading into the dust. I remember the first album, vaguely (I was hard rock director at my college radio station back then). I never charted it, and I can't find any reference to the band in my notebooks (yes, I kept notes!)

Basically, the style is that mechanical glam thing that characterized post Shout at the Devil Crue. If you've been reading my reviews recently, you know how I feel about that.

I will say, however, that at least on this disc, Babylon A.D. easily outdoes today's Crue. The production sounds a bit, well, cheap at times (keyboards and drum machines are a bit too obvious), but the songs themselves are fairly solid, as far as this kinda thing goes.

It's not my cuppa tea, but I figure this thing has to please the old fans. And since not many folks are trying this these days, a few others may join the fold. If the sound intrigues you, this is more than worth a listen.

Back of Dave
Glory of... 7"
(Thick)
reviewed in issue #92, 11/20/95

Another of those "emo-core" things. Back of Dave packs a load more sonic violence and traditional song construction than the Crank 10" twosome.

The three songs included are all very nicely done, with some rather exceptional songwriting and wicked playing. I really didn't expect something this good, and I can't really explain much else about it. The pictures on the disc are cool, and the music much better. Do not miss this one.

Backstreet Law
Hockey Helmet
(Riviere International)
reviewed in issue #186, 9/28/98

A fine selection of metalcore treats. Backtreet Law doesn't skimp on when it comes to prime riffage and funky grooves. Put 'em both together and the result is a fairly intoxicating brew.

Not especially original in style, but excellent on the execution side. Yes, there are huge echoes of Sepultura and Biohazard and Rage Against the Machine. But Backstreet Law is a bit more tuneful than all of those. Not a softening, really, but an acknowledgement of melody as a useful element.

And the sound is great. The mix emphasises the rhythm elements, but only slightly. Every part has its due, and all the parts come together to make some fine music.

Sometimes it isn't necessary to reinvent the wheel. Backstreet Law follows a lot of trends, but in doing so it occasionally outdoes the originals. Completely compelling.

Backworld
Holy Fire
(Harbinger House-World Serpent)
reviewed in issue #152, 2/9/98

The gothic gothic, soundscapes of stark horror, punctuated by a wide-ranging examination of religion in our time. Quotes from the Bible and many philosophers, samples of David Koresh and other recent "prophets". All combining to create a surreal reality which, despite its seemingly incongruous nature, is in fact a perfect mirror on our struggles as a society to find spiritual peace.

The usual hardcore gothic instrumentation: acoustic guitars, strings, a clarinet and overwashing keyboards. The arrangements are lush, but not overwhelming, with the samples serving as both rhythm and dramatic elements.

In a weird way, like My Dying Bride without the excess. The song subjects are similar, and while Backworld never ratchets up the guitars, the passion burns intently. Following the Zen model, the questions are more important than the answers. And that makes the intriguing lyric content at least as important as the intricate music.

A complete package, the journey of mind toward fulfillment. Contemplative, but not wishy-washy. Backworld manages to probe the spiritual world without getting either preachy or goofy. Some achievement, that.

Backyard Babies
Total 13
(Scooch Pooch) reviewed in issue #191, 11/15/99

From Sweden , with feeling. The Backyard Babies have a lush glam metal sound with all the requisite hooks intact. And, you know, this sorta thing is coming back around again.

If it arrives in a package like this, I'm not sure who can resist. The songs don't fuck around; they come on in full buzzsaw mode and don't let up from there. Dirty, gritty, messy -- it doesn't matter what you call it, as long as you call it good.

That's really the deal. Backyard Babies have a great feel on this sound (a bit more glam than metal, so they're really going back to the Sweet/Kiss roots) and the songs pack some serious punch. The wall of sound is exactly what's called for, and it just booms out of the speakers.

A true joyride of epic proportions. Where I live, it's illegal to have this much fun. Yeah, sure, I'm riding the remnants of my teenage throbbing desire, but fuckit. Them's the best kinda days.

Bad Astronaut
Acrophobe
(Honest Don's)
reviewed in issue #211, 1/29/01

Ultra-catchy pop, with equal parts punk attitude and spacey keyboards. There's also this kinda odd prog feel that drops in and out without warning.

All of these things add up to make the confection even sweeter than it might have been originally conceived. The hooks soar incandescently, and the surprisingly complex music works its way in slowly.

There's even a cover of the old folk favorite "500 Miles" to totally trip up any potential genrefication. Bad Astronaut simply refuses to be tied to basic three-chord power pop.

That has left this album as not only instantly gripping, but deep enough to withstand excessive exposure. Ear candy is rarely this fulfilling.

Armchair Martian and Bad Astronaut played some of each other's songs (with one ringer), using the same drum kit and amp and such. The band members kinda switched off now and again as well, if I'm reading things right.

In any case, this is a wonderfully loose and spirited set of tunes, seven in all. The liners don't mention who's playing what, and really, it doesn't matter. Just listen to the thing front to back and back to front and smile. Roots punk rarely sounds as good as it does coming from these guys.

The sorta effort that simply leaves me sitting around with a silly grin on my face. While the stuff here would certainly stand up to heavy analysis, it's best appreciated in the spirit in which it was played: Just for fun.

I've been a fan of Bad Astronaut from the time I heard the band's first Honest Don's effort. But I always identified the boys with slick, catchy power pop. And I expected the best power pop album of the year when I popped open the package. The title is funny (in a nicely dumb way) and I figured this was going to be one big joyride.

It is. But there's a depth and texture to these songs that I wasn't expecting. This isn't just the power pop album of the year. It might be the album of the year, period. The effect is kinda like listening to old Flaming Lips and then popping in The Soft Bulletin. Okay, so many of these songs are still punchy and very, very poppy. Underneath that veneer of slick riffola lies a deep, old soul. And that's what blows me away.

The big change is that not all the songs are punky rave-ups. Joey Cape and the boys in the band (which includes two keyboard players, which should've told me something a while back) have put together some astonishingly beautiful songs to go with the disarmingly sweet ear candy. Most of these songs shift gears a few times, and the transitions are simply exquisite. There is nothing on this album that sounds out of place.

Another reference might be NOFX's The Decline, which was so blisteringly brilliant (and surprising in both its range and ambition) that it gave me a whole new set of reasons to love the band. Bad Astronaut has laid down the gauntlet here. The roots may be punk, but the music is simply timeless. If there is a better album this year, it's gonna have to be better than I can imagine.

Bad Biscut
The American Dream?
(Cathedral)
reviewed in issue #81, 7/31/95

Three tracks produced by Tom Allom (Judas Priest knob guy), the album coordinated by Anthony Bongiovi (Jon's uncle who cut the "Runaway" single and helped set up Bon Jovi's album deal) and a cheesy cover of "Kids in America".
Goodness, it seems like these boys are going places.

And why not? Cheap and easy punk rawk (and glam metal overtones) with irresistible hooks and sublime pop sensibility. If they look good on video, there should be no stopping them.

While I often rail against extremely commercial fare (which this is), I have to admit that this stuff is really fun. Throwaway? Yeah, that too. But why quibble?

Play them while they're still unknown. That won't be long.

Bad Haskells
Day Glo
(Pinch Hit)
reviewed in issue #174, 12/28/98

The basic sound here is trippy groove rock, but don't let that scare you. Bad Haskells do all those 60s excess things right (wah-wah, soft distortion, grimy harmonies) and graft them onto a vague white-boy funk platform.

But, to use a slightly insensitive phrase, these guys know they're white. The bass lines are bouncy, but they don't even try to approximate deep funk. Just enough groove to move the tunes along.

And so, instead of writing insipid songs filled with dreadful musical and lyrical cliches, Bad Haskells craft silly little effervescent ditties. Nothing substantial, mind you, but fun nonetheless. Tight and tuneful, with just the right amount of wit.

A good little party album, really. Bad Haskells won't be changing the world any time soon, but it might make a few folks smile.

Bad Livers
Horses in the Mines
(1/4 Stick-Touch and Go)
reviewed in issue #51, 3/31/94

Sounding like a scratchy 78 from the forties or fifties, Bad Livers not only go straight to the source of country music (rural blues, bluegrass and folk for starters), but they present it as well as I've heard.

The three guys recorded this thing in a shed. And the low-tech production absolutely sparkles with life. It also could be the rather entertaining songs, which sound wonderful in this setting.

I've always preferred this sort of music for driving or drinking (though not at the same time). You can pretend you're wandering down the now-mythical Route 66 listening to a clear channel station from Nashville all the way to Albuquerque. A hoot and a holler now and again will help get you in the mood. Or you can simply pop a beer, kick back and prosper.

Bad Religion
Generator
(Epitaph)
reviewed in issue #7, 2/15/92

Saturday morning. Just watched "The Candidate" last night and am feeling rather cynical. Then the mail guy drops off this package. Enclosed is the return of the greatest band in the world. The heavens part and the sun shines through the cold. Life is better than bliss.

Okay, so now you know my bias. But to be as prolific as they are and still as damn fucking good... This time out, the lyrics have a definite dark tint to them. Most of them have at least a little to do with the recent Gulf conflict, especially the two tracks from a 7" they issued last year with M.I.T. linguist Noam Chomsky.

Longer songs, too. While the album still clocks in right at 30 minutes, there are only 11 songs as opposed to the normal 15+. But who out there is going to bitch? Not me, man.

The songs show more construction, with an occasional lead break (oh my!) and more time to flesh out the music. Why hasn't a major picked these guys up?

Well, I suppose it would be a bitch to leave your own damn label to go big and sell out. So let's all get out and celebrate! Bad Religion has been around for over ten years and is still as vital as they were when their first EP came out in 1981 (tho' a bit more polished, I must say).

Did I mention I love this album?

This is the fifty-seventh time I've listened to this. I kept track.
At first it sounded forced, though "Recipe for Hate," "Skyscraper" and "American Jesus" are definite BR classics. Especially galling was Jonette Napolitano's anthemic wail on "Struck a Nerve". And "All Good Soldiers" seemed awful crafted.

At this point, however, I must say I like this album almost as much as Against the Grain, a good two steps better than Generator. The dirge-like pace of their last album has been abandoned for traditional BR speed and even tighter harmonies.

It is absurd to put any other punk band in the same sentence with Bad Religion. They're leading a punk renaissance, selling a shitload of records. Yes, this stuff can be played on a commercial station. And it's heavy enough for the meanest alternative outlet.

Five albums in six years. Seventy-two songs and not a bad one in the bunch. NO ONE ELSE can make such a claim. To overlook these guys would be a terrible mistake.

Having been a fan since what today qualifies as "the old days", I was one who didn't understand the shift from Epitaph to Atlantic (see A&A #105 for a more detailed take on the Offspring, a related subject). Apparently Bret Gurewitz didn't either, as he left after recording the last album, Stranger than Fiction.

He and singer Greg Graffin (the other main songwriter) have similar songwriting styles, but they often focused on somewhat different lyrical subjects. After more than 15 years of writing angry punk screeds, Graffin seems played out. The songs on this album are alright, but don't have any of the energy of the Bad Religion glory days. Actually, the last consistently good BR album was Against the Grain, which was five years and four albums ago. Generator and Recipe for Hate found the songs slowing up, with more tendencies to the dread anthemitis. I actually thought Stranger than Fiction was a bit better, though that metal guitar sound Andy Wallace introduced really wanked.

Ric Ocasek (yes, the Cars guy) produced this one, reportedly recording the songs in one take. A good idea, and The Gray Race is the freshest sounding BR album in a long time. But that doesn't make up for the relatively dreary songwriting. Yeah, even Gurewitz's songs had lost their bite by Stranger, so you can't pin the band's creative decline solely on Graffin (though he wrote or co-wrote all the songs on this one).

Perfectly acceptable, which is probably why I'm disappointed. I remember a Bad Religion that really said something in its songs. That band hasn't been around for some time. Yeah, the MTV kiddies will eat this up with or without a spoon (while in Key West last week I heard "A Walk" squeezed between Pink Floyd and Primus on the radio), but I'll have to sit on the sidelines and harrumph. And listen to the younger generation of punkers who still have new ideas.

Badtown Boys
epidemic
(Gift of Life-Cargo)
reviewed in issue #73, 3/31/95

Without sounding a whole lot like Bad Religion, the Badtown Boys are the first band I've heard to successfully bridge the speed hardcore and pop punk traditions in years.

There's a lot of angst, and most of the songs end up being some sort of personal rant about this or that, but then, it wouldn't be punk without such sentiments, now would it?

Completely solid in every way: songwriting, technique, production, whatever. I can't think of one serious criticism, though in the future some breadth of lyrical topics might be nice.

But that's really nitpicking. This is a great album chock full o' goodies. Who can complain about that?

Badwrench
Cosmo Rocket
(Buzzchunk)
reviewed in issue #122, 11/4/96

One note from the hook. That's all Badwrench really needs.

Now, folks that dig "alternative" stuff like Better than Ezra will find this brilliant, but I've got my standards, folks. And Badwrench plays the backbeat syncopation game with skill, but not enough verve to kick my ass.

It's too bad, because I can hear where just one little bit could move this from sorta catchy to riff-wrapping ear candy. One idea would be to lighten up a bit on the vocal style (which adds a level of pretentiousness that the songs cannot support), but even then they guys have to know that their song construction needs about one more chord change each chorus. Just to shift into overdrive.

Or maybe they don't want that. Fine by me. Right now, though, Badwrench is muddling between musical concepts. Borrowing from a couple, but not able to really fly on its own. Plenty of potential, but the guys just aren't there yet.

Baggerboot
Baggerboot
(Henceforth)
reviewed in issue #270, November 2005

This violin/viola, bass and accordion trio is perhaps the perfect counterpoint to Anti-Social Music. Here we have three people playing "free jazz," a form that is often mistaken for pure improvisation. It's not, not exactly, but I'm afraid I'm not the best person to explain the difference.

Suffice it to say the players have a sense of where they're going. And the members of this trio are so attuned to each other's playing that the songs themselves often sound like they've been written out beforehand (again, something that might well be true for parts of each work).

But I'm making everything so complicated, when in truth the attraction of this album is simple: Three people who know how to manipulate each other's wavelengths into creating some truly inspiring sounds.

There's something about the way string instruments grind and groan that plays exceptionally well with an accordion--especially one played with the enthusiasm and range shown by Ute Volker here. Three pieces, all named "Cascade" (I through III) and each of them is almost overwhelming. Spectacular.

Bailter Space
Capsul
(Turnbuckle)
reviewed in issue #137, 6/23/97

From the looks of things, this Kiwi trio has been cranking out a large amount of music for a long time under at least two names, going by the Gordons through the mid-80s, and Bailter Space since 1987 or so. Alright, so there were at least a couple of lineup changes, but you get the gist.

And the main point is that Bailer Space likes to play pop music without regard for structure, volume considerations or any convention whatsoever. Unlike Sonic Youth, with whom this band has been compared many times, Bailter Space has continued to evolve, incorporating new ideas all along the way.

The result is somewhere between Storm & Stress and any number of emo-core bands. There are some undeniably gorgeous moments ("Dome" comes to mind), but just when I settle into a groove with the music, Bailter Space shifts reality again. Unnerving, but ultimately more satisfying.

This album pushes the pop envelope in both attractive and disquieting ways. The members of Bailter Space seem to have an inner understanding of how to make music that truly connects. It's so easy to get lost, and once there, who cares?

Aidan Baker/Thomas Baker/Alan Bloor
Terza Rima
(Public Eyesore)
reviewed in issue #265, June 2005

Three lengthy live pieces recorded from the sound board. That's about as pure as it gets. Aidan Baker plays guitar, Thomas Baker plays piano and Alan Bloor manipulates "amplified metal." Oh yeah, it's one of those.

The label ought to have tipped you off, of course. Public Eyesore traffics in all sorts of music, but all of it is significantly off the beaten path. I think that's why I like their stuff so much. In any case, these guys create an astonishing atmosphere. It's hard to believe that three people are creating this stuff in real time.

Contemplative, yes, but in an intense way. These guys set up recurring rhythms and ideas and then play with them. Not loops (this is live and supposedly not automated), but rather variations on a theme. Lots of variations and many, many themes.

I'll be honest; I can't stand listening to this stuff in a live setting. Puts me to sleep. But slap a recording like this on my home stereo and my senses jump. Everything becomes more real. I can see things I've been missing. Orgasms get better. I guess it's like crack for dorks or something. Anyway, I like it this way, and I like what these guys do. And that's more than good enough for me.

Baleen
Soundtrack to a Normal Life
(Liquilab)
reviewed in issue #226, February 2002

Apparently, Baleen's idea of a normal life is a diverse one. The band refuses to stick to any one style, instead flinging itself headfirst into electronic, pop, rock and vaguely jazzy sounds. When you've got full-time keyboard and sax men, that sorta thing probably comes naturally.

What is consistent is the way that the members play off each other. There's a synergy here, a real band feel that is often missing in true collaborations. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but often "playing together" means compromise. With Baleen, all of its members are focused on the same goal, and that tight gaze keeps the songs aimed in the right direction.

This is an astonishingly crafted album. As the notes say, "all songs written performed recorded lost re-recorded looped cut pasted and finally mixed by baleen." Indeed. I've got a practiced ear for this sort of collage creation, and I can barely hear the edits. The work is top-notch, retaining a forceful live sound.

With so much going on at once, it would have been easy for Baleen to allow its songs to degenerate into a mess of competing ideas. Instead, all those thoughts coalesce into a solid volume. You haven't heard anything quite like Baleen. And once you hear it, you'll wish you could hear so much more.

A King's X for the modern era. Baleen is much more electronic than hard rock (though these songs are played, not programmed), but there are more than a few points in confluence. The science fiction references (The title of a song on this album, "Magnifico (The Mule)," is a character in Isaac Asimov's Foundation trilogy). There's also the use of strong, if somewhat unusual harmonies and an off-kilter rhythmic base.

Mostly, though, the resemblance is strictly artistic. At its best (say, on its second and third albums), King's X re-invented hard rock. Baleen is simply a modern rock and roll band, but by infusing jazz elements (including saxophone), an electronic sensibility and more melodies than any album rightly ought to have, these boys have carved out their own space.

And it's one hell of a space. Even in the quiet moments, a lot is going on. I know a few folks who would make a Morphine reference, and I suppose that's legit on an artistic level. Hell, while you're at it, why not include Roxy Music and any other band that didn't fixate upon any fixed conception of music?

Sorry about the soapbox. This is one of those albums that sneaks up on you fast. The first few bars aren't anything spectacular, but I can't imagine anyone not getting hooked by the end of the first song. Spectacular.

Matt Balitsaris/Jeff Berman
An Echoed Smile
(Palmetto)
reviewed in issue #130, 3/17/97

Balitsaris plays a range of guitars, and Berman handles the vibraphone and other percussion. Yeah, it's quiet and contemplative. Rather mellow. But certainly not dull.

The pair are joined by special guests Dave Liebman, Hearn Gadbois and Guy Klucevsek on three songs, but Balitsaris and Berman provide the main attraction. Eight of the ten tracks are written by one or the other, showing a nice range of intricate, intimate jazz.

The guitar and vibraphone often operate on completely different lines, converging only to convey the main point of each song. This leaves plenty of room for exploration, and the two take full advantage. The sound is small, but the ideas are large.

More proof that mellow doesn't mean insipid. Balitsaris and Berman have crafted a fine album of many soft moods. Low volume doesn't indicate low intensity, though, as An Echoed Smile is as passionate a jazz album I've heard in a while.

Ballbusters
No Jerk'n Off
(D.I.L.L.I.G.A.F.)
reviewed in issue #44, 11/15/93

If you've heard of the Jerky Boys, then you know precisely what this stuff is. I didn't really like the Jerky boys, and this is not quite up to that standard of quality.

Of course, if you're like most folk, then you'll get off on this for at least a few minutes.

Now, I got the tape somewhere at CMJ, and it doesn't have a contact address or anything, so you probably can't do a damn thing with this review. But I figured I'd get in on the fad and register my opinion.

Ballurio
Spider Dance
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #216, 5/14/01

A somewhat different take on the whole instrumental guitar sound. Ballurio still relies on a rather processed sound--drum machines or simply sharply recorded drums, a metallic guitar sound, etc. But instead of merely aping the pyrotechnics of a Joe Satriani or Steve Vai or whatever, Ballurio takes a bluesy stance.

For me, it doesn't work too well. The bombastic arrangements and sterile sound don't really get me into a bluesy mood. The playing is good and often fairly expressive, though I'm not sure how much feeling could be wrought through this sound.

Still, I'll give good notice for the attempt to break away from the pack, even I'm not particularly knocked out. My real problem is more with the sound. For this approach, something earthier and duller would have worked much better. Take all the edges off, and maybe then we'd be talking.

But I've gotta write about what's actually here. And even with a fairly creative approach to the sound, Ballurio doesn't quite ride above the rest. Good playing and decent arrangements aren't enough

The Band that Should Not Be
The Band that Should Not Be
(demo)
reviewed in issue #119, 9/23/96

Sounds a lot like early King Missile (you know, when Dogbowl was in the band). Songs with jokey themes and the same musical idea that keeps getting repeated over and over again. With really low-fi production, even on the number that use a lot of keyboards.

And still damned entertaining. The band's name is absolutely correct, but this is a 90-minute tape that is almost crammed with music. Plenty of filler and far-too-long songs, but plenty to smile at as well.

This is exactly the sort of tape that my brothers would wear out while in the throes of chemical immolation. They also listen to a lot of Beck at these times, but this stuff is much better in my book. Strangely compelling. I simply can't stop listening.

The Bangkok Five
10 the Hard Way EP
(Aeronaut)
reviewed in issue #267, August 2005

Garage attitude combined with a full-fuzz sound and some decidedly polished guitar work...when you crank out a pile of shiny rock, you'd damn well better overload the energy factor. These boys do.

Kinda like the "Sister Havana" side of Urge Overkill's major label experiment, these boys flash some killer hookmaking skills even as they try to rock out the universe. And like I noted above, the sound is tres "I wanna be a star."

That's cool with me. The energy is, in fact, overloaded in a most pleasing way. The Bangkok Five probably ought to do a little more to differentiate itself from the pack--be it rock or emo (or can we merge those two terms, please?)--but I'm not gonna complain about the five swingingly stylish pieces of big rock on this disc. Just what the dog days of summer ordered.

Bangkok Shock
Arrested for Success
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #130, 3/17/97

An awfully tinny sound, though that's not an awful thing for cheap and sleazy glam metal. The songs are typical ("Sex, Money & Drugs", "Any Way She Can Get It" and "Trash Can Lover" are certainly representative), with competent cheesy guitar keeping the whole thing moving reasonably well.

I've got a soft spot in my heart for this kinda thing. There's not a whole lot of musical talent (or songwriting skill, for that matter) wandering about here, but it's still strangely compelling. Completely absurd, but fun nonetheless.

There seems to be some intent here to paint the band in "punk" terms (the spoken intro refers to the band as "hardcore"), but I guess times have been pretty rough for glam cheese the past few years. Bangkok Shock sounds more than a little like another Asian city band, Hanoi Rocks. And God knows the last time a used store bought the latest Michael Monroe release.

Simple, stupid and pretty inane. But when turned up to 11, gotta admit I got off. Ten seconds to love, indeed.

The latest from these Vegas boys. The charm of rock-bottom production values remains, but everything else is stuck in the same gear as well.

The songwriting is passable glam metal stuff, except that there needs to be a little punch in the booth to keep this stuff on the positive side of kinetic energy. That's not here.

And the best moments here are obvious GN'R and AC/DC rip offs. Now, of course, with some serious cash for recording and good marketing, Bangkok Shock could sell a shitload of stuff. The baseline songwriting is puerile but not much below acceptable for this sort of thing.

But this package doesn't make it. I still think the guys need to define their own sound much better, and that starts with more songwriting work. I really wanted to like this, but Bangkok Shock didn't progress enough to impress me.

Bangs
Sweet Revenge
(Kill Rock Stars)
reviewed in issue #199, 5/8/00

There's this strange situation that crops up about once every couple of issues. I've got to review an album where one of the performers is a label flack. In every case, it's a person I like (even if I don't know them well). Strangely, it seems most of these people are drummers. I wonder what that says about folks who work for indie labels?

Anyway, suffice it to say I've run into that situation again here. And once again, it's not a problem. Bangs are cool. Not sophisticated. Not glossy. But quite accomplished, particularly in the writing area. Sarah Utter's guitar work is also quite spectacular.

Just yer basic punk, with some great lead riffs and vocals that sound uncannily like the Go-Go's on speed. Tuneful, though still nicely rough around the edges. Infectious, most certainly.

A lot of fun, but don't dismiss Bangs are mere fluff. There's substance behind the adrenaline train. A most impressive set.

The Bank Robbers
Tomorrow Belongs to Me
(No Milk)
reviewed in issue #275, June 2006

Extremely earnest, nearly prehistoric-sounding emo. Strident guitars, anthemic verses (much less choruses) and group vocals abounding. Takes me back...with pleasure.

I didn't know bands wanted to sound like this anymore. Or maybe I'm way out of touch with the mainstream and this is current "thing." Quite possible. In any case, the tight production sound on these raucous performances locks in something special.

The Bank Robbers don't screw around. They give their songs lengthy titles (see "The Truth Is Rarely Pure, and Never Simple" and "Here's Your Song You've Never Wanted") and don't mess around with silly concepts such as metaphor. This is as straightforward as it gets (that's the "earnest" thing, I guess). I can appreciate that.

And it just sounds so good. Very sharp production, but the playing and singing is just ragged enough to keep me smiling. The Bank Robbers save all their complexity for the music, and that works very well.

Bankhead
This Won't Hurt a Bit EP
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #165, 8/17/98

Five peppy pop songs, with a vague ska feel at times. Just a strange skank beat from time to time. Yeah, I don't know, either.

Anyway, the cheesily heart-wrenching lyrics are lots of fun. The sort of stuff that Green Day used to write before the band got all serious. And while this isn't anywhere related to punk, it's a reference I like.

In fact, the rather restrained production and simply songwriting makes the goofy lyrics sound that much more sincere. Hey, these songs are effervescent, but they're fun while they last.

Easy to like, easy to forget. Just bubbles away. Still, some cool jangles.

Bantha
The Finest of Silks
(Hammerhead)
reviewed in issue #129, 3/3/97

Most of the stuff I've gotten from Hammerhead has been atypical of the general stereotypical greater Chicago area (I know where Champaign is, damnit). Finally, a band that would sound at home with the good folks at Touch and Go.

But probably even more like the Austin gang at Trance. Trippy, bass heavy guitar lines, rapidly shifting rhythm work and a general disregard for vocals and melody. If you remember Johnboy, Bantha could be a second cousin.

These guys insist on destroying every song they write. I mean, "Clowns of the Carnivale" could be a seriously gorgeous pop tune. And yet the end result here is a song without any lyrics during the verse, and a totally distorted chorus to boot. Completely brilliant.

Utterly incomprehensible at times, Bantha wields its music as a big, ugly stick with which to subdue any praise. Didn't work. Sometimes this sounds like nothing more than a big-ass shouting match, but the real result is rather satisfying.

Baphomet
The Dead Shall Inherit
(Peaceville-Caroline)
reviewed in issue #17, 7/31/92

One of the few bands that has not deserted the fine Buffalo death metal breeding grounds. You could not guess how many of those Floridian bands have upstate roots.

Judging by the response I have already received, you dig these fuckers. With good reason. The music is more than mere incoherent noise with scratching noises pretending to be vocals. No, there is a band here. The riffs are rather Slayer-esque at times, but the delivery is pure Baphomet.

A fine debut work that shows a real future for these boys.

The Bar Feeders
Pour for Four, Por Favor
(Fast Music) reviewed in issue #192, 12/6/99

Fast and sloppy hardcore. The songs are rather silly, with odes to Attica and Salma Hayek, among many other topics. Tuneful? Um, nope.

Amusing? Well, in a blunt force kinda way. The Bar Feeders don't quite have the unfailing energy of a Zeke, but they're almost as messy. This isn't music for the faint-hearted. Indeed, if the tuneage doesn't getcha, the lyrics will.

Tasteless, tuneless and generally ragged. If it weren't for the crude humor, well, this wouldn't be worth much time at all. But see, that's the hook.

Alright, alright, even with the silly jokes this isn't exactly enlightened fare from any viewpoint. Still, it made me smile. There's always room for that somewhere.

Eric Barber
Maybeck Constructions
(pfMENTUM)
reviewed in issue #252, April 2004

Eric Barber plays tenor and soprano sax. At least, that's what he does here. The "Maybeck" in the title comes from the Maybeck Recital Hall in Berkeley, where this album was recorded. Not live, as near as I can tell, but simply in the empty hall to take advantage of the marvelous acoustics of the place.

This is Barber alone, by the way. Just him and his muses and demons. The pieces themselves have starkly different characters. Barber is more than willing to deconstruct his own instruments in order to find original sounds, and he's also able to play extremely technical fingerings in a fluid and expressive manner. His adventurousness and ability to shift gears are what really grab my ears.

As for the acoustics of the recital hall--they're amazing. As a former high school band fag, I can attest to the astonishing difference the right performance location can make. The Maybeck is warm, but not mushy. It's forgiving, but not to the point of obscuring subtle moments. It sounds like a wonderful setting for the solo artist who wants to present his or her music in the best way possible.

Barber's compositions are intense and thought-provoking. His playing is as varied and skilled as his composing, and he really brings these pieces to life here. Top it off with the perfect setting, and you have a truly exceptional album.

Barbez
Barbez
(Important)
reviewed in issue #256, August 2004

Important releases stuff from the likes of Jad Fair, Merzbow, Daniel Johnston, etc. Indeed, the King Missile III album reviewed below is also an Important release. So right off, I got the idea that this wasn't going to be just any ol' album.

I guess not. The dominant instruments are violin and marimba, with a healthy dose of accordion. The Kurt Weill-meets-Residents-meets-Russian wedding band reference from the web site isn't that far off. The accordion and marimba do lend an "old Europe" feel to the pieces here, which are themselves steeped in the European art song tradition.

Well, until they kinda devolve into punky noise and general chaos. See, Barbez is almost as interested in deconstruction as it is in standard musical forms, and that dichotomy makes for some most interesting conflicts. These songs often sound like a musical representation of a Stalingrad reenactment--staged within the mind of a paranoid schizophrenic.

Mind you, I think that's utterly awesome. Barbez is perfectly willing to play nice. For a time. And then the knives come out. Those moments are the ones that really grab me. Mordant and glistening with greatness.

Barbie Complex
No Brain No Pain
(Funky Mushroom)
reviewed in issue #81, 7/31/95

Power punk pop, a la Die Monster Die or Hammerbox. Ali Rogers' vocals are somewhat more distorted, and the band relies a little more on lead guitar work, but other than that the sound is pretty much the same.

And the songwriting is just about as solid as well, so as this 13-song collection rolls along it just continues to impress. I would prefer that the band find a more original sound, but as long as the folks want to stick around here, they might as well do the thing as best they can. So they do.

Fun listening, but nothing new or revolutionary. Fans of the aforementioned bands ought check this out, and if you don't believe that a woman can belt out a song with the best of men, well, you can listen in as well. There is nothing wrong here; I just wish the Barbie Complex had bothered to find a more original style.

Bardo Pond
Bufo Alvarius, Amen 29:15
(Drunken Fish)
reviewed in issue #73, 3/31/95

Just in case you were curious, the 29:15 is the timing of the "Amen" track and has no biblical significance.

Bardo Pond creates these monstrous musical compositions that center around a certain member of the band (usually guitar, but also sometimes the drums), with caterwauls of feedback and distortion so extreme you might swear the song got lost somewhere.

Music at its most deconstructed. There are but a few musical ideas on this entire disc, and not every song really has one. At times I think the purpose is to simply annoy and frighten the listener.

But is it "art"? Oh, sure. Bardo Pond celebrateS cacophony in all its resident forms, to unbelievable excess. Incomprehensible much of the time, sure, but I still dig it.

Barely Pink
Number One Fan
(Big Deal)
reviewed in issue #139, 7/21/97

Barely Pink hails from somewhere in the Tampa Bay area. Now, the press claims Tampa, but the mailing address is in St. Pete, as is the one club (well, restaurant, actually), and as a former resident of southeast St. Pete, I'm kinda aware of how such people hate to be stuck in with Tampa. And, for the record, the Devil Rays will be playing baseball in St. Petersburg next year. None of this Tampa crap, okay?

As for the band, the sound is power pop with a lot of Velveeta. The sticker on the cover compares Barely Pink to Cheap Trick (fair enough), T. Rex (not even close) and Big Star (mostly in the way-off harmonies, I guess). Enjoyable fare, but not particularly inspiring.

Whenever any song seems ready to barrel full-steam into some nicely discordant seconds of distortion-laden madness, the sound instead thins out into some clean lines. The hooks are acceptable, if a little tired, but the thing that sticks out is the lack of adventure.

I know that Tom Morris loves to craft an immaculately clean sound with most every album he produces (one of the few insights I get for three years in Florida), but even he should know this kind of music needs to be at least a little dirty. Some grime at the corners, a little sand in the axle grease. It's not here. If Barely Pink were to actually take some shots, it might really get somewhere. This album is far too safe.

Blixa Bargeld
Nick Cave
Mick Harvey
To Have and To Hold Soundtrack
(Mute)
reviewed in issue #129, 3/3/97

Um, yeah, it's an Australian film. Why do you ask?

All kidding aside, the main work the "big three" at the top of the marquee is compose. This is orchestral stuff of the film variety, which means rather overdone, with way too many strings swelling. Still, there are a few nice moments.

Most of those occur in odd sampled moments that take the music away from a Gone With the Wind feel and more toward the ambient. But honestly, there aren't enough of those spots to make up for the garish excess. Yeah, sure, I remember who's in charge here, but a track record of overblown, moody music doesn't mean you should cheese out that vision for a movie paycheck

There are two tracks here that aren't of the "filmic music" variety. First is "Mourning Song", by Raun Raun Theatre, bit of which are sprinkled throughout the instrumental parts. And second is Scott Walker's Englebert Humperdinck-esque walkthrough of "I Threw It All Away". Yow. Imagine Nick Cave doing "Love Will Tear Us Apart" while overdosing on Prozac.

Well, I prefer not to think about that. Same goes for the soundtrack.

Barkmarket
Gimmick
(American)
reviewed in issue #41, 10/15/93

Barkmarket used to be a noise band without real oomph to the sound. Not any more.

This gets positively heavy at times, and with all the feedback and squeals going on, a rather pleasant vibe escapes.

Remember Bullet Lavolta's The Gift? I can't put my finger on it, but this reminds me of that a lot. It probably has something to do with the hoarse shouting vocal style and coherent lyrical thought.

Gimmick is not the kind of album a first-time listener will appreciate. That's a good thing, of course, because it means you have to crank a great album five or six times to really appreciate it. Sounds like a plan to me.

Chris Barth
Loving Off the Land
(Mr. Whiggs)
reviewed in issue #228, April 2002

Chris Barth leads his songs with an acoustic guitar. Well, that's generally where the melody starts out. He gets this astonishing ringing quality on the guitar sound, and then he starts to add any number of other instruments (piano, bass, melodia, electric guitar, organ, trumpet, accordion, whatever) until he's got his engine running. Then he starts to sing. Or he doesn't. That sort of forced intimacy works well. The listener (well, me) is brought into Barth's head quickly. Sure, it's an often disturbing exhibition. Should be. Barth has the courage to turn his head inside out and let all of us have a gander.

And so these songs exhibit strength and marked vulnerability, refreshing originality and cloying sentiment and more of all, a sense of Barth and the story he's trying to tell. Most affecting, I must say.

Bastards of Melody
Fun Machine
(Ransom-IMG)
reviewed in issue #216, 5/14/01

Good old fashioned rock and roll. Like the sorta thing that Cheap Trick used to play eons ago. Loud, fast and almost criminally hooky. There are a few nods to more recent developments (the odd jangle anthem--and these boys even that well!), but simplicity is the word here.

Another big key is the way Bastards of Melody never lets the energy lag. Even on mid-tempo songs there's an insistent groove that keeps everything in motion. There just isn't time to get bored while listening to this disc.

The kinda album that makes you want to buy a convertible and drive up and down the Florida Keys. Raucous, joyous and all that. The thick sound ties in with the tight arrangements to ratchet up the fervor that much more.

Maybe not a perfect album, but a pretty damned good one. I really can't come up with any serious complaints at all. If Bastards of Melody doesn't make your soul bubble open with joy, then you're already dead.

Speaking of the Replacements (or, more accurately, Paul Westerberg), here come the Bastards of Melody. They have that Sire-era 'Mats style down (slightly sloppy, but still tuneful and generally recognizable as "normal" music), and they write nice three-minute pop songs.

With titles like "Fuck Wakin' Up." Though, to be honest, most of the songs are relatively clever. Take "Cheat," a song which details the quintessential high school experiences of cribbing for a test and trying to impress a girl. They write it better than I explain it. Trust me.

I'd like to hear just a bit more clutter in the sound. These songs aren't clean, but there just isn't much messing about, either. And with the garage guitar-slinging style, well, a bit more distortion and reverb would add a bit of "authenticity" (yes, folks, the quotes denote irony) to the proceedings.

But hell, these songs are too fun to pick on excessively. Just ragged enough to play at top blast on the car stereo, and with tight enough hooks to sing along--just out of tune so as to sound really cool. A bright blast in the middle of winter.

Bathory
Jubileum, Volume II
(Cargo)
reviewed in issue #36, 6/30/93

If you don't know Bathory, this and Volume I (which I haven't gotten) should help your education.

As most of their catalogue has been out of print in the U.S. for some time (some of it never was issued here), the Jubileum series will correct that problem to some extent.

Not much more to say, except that even if you usually don't play compilations like this because of the previously released material, you really should give this one a chance. You just might discover why these guys are revered as influential heroes by many.

For some unknown reason, the only place the songs are listed in their correct order is on the CD, which is sorta a pain in the ass.

But for the most part, you can't tell one song from another anyway. The first three go blitzing off into some sort of distorted thrash realm, powered by what really sounds like a cheap drum machine. Okay, so "War Machine" is pretty good (ironic that it is the slow piece among the collection).

And after that, there's more of what came earlier, and a couple other decent songs. You know, I don't mind thrash, but do something with it. Just cranking things up to 150 bpm and laying over moronic guitar licks does not take genius.

I didn't expect a legendary performance, but I also didn't think I'd get a third-rate Slayer impersonation. Bleah.

Sort of an expansion on stuff Quorthon was working with back in the late 80s. Which is probably why it sounds much more interesting than recent Bathory efforts.

Requiem and Octagon were exercises in the futility of repeating yourself (and the same riff over and over and...). But, thankfully, this release has more of the European melodic lines and less of the cheesy drum machine. I've always thought Bathory was at its finest when really wrapping itself around a grand project. And Blood on Ice is meant to be an epic.

Okay, so some of the songs are middling (probably the later stuff, written to flesh out the core, but I really can't tell). It's just nice to listen to a Bathory album that I like. It has been a while.

His days of trailblazing over, Quorthon might as well content himself with keeping Bathory reasonably up-to-date. And an odd good album isn't too much to ask.

Battalion
Excessive Force
(demo)
reviewed in issue #66, 11/15/94

Merging touches of thrash, industrial and death metal with a base of mid-eighties power metal, Battalion have successfully updated one of my favorite metal sub-genres.

Close enough to their roots to satisfy any NWOBHM fan, Battalion are light-years heavier than most of those influences. The playing is top notch, the songwriting emphasizes the strong points of each player. Lee Davis has a voice that keeps its strength even as he climbs the register. To top it off, the production is major release quality. Whoever was on the knobs knew exactly how to capture this band.

Everything just came together correctly on this tape. Now it's time for someone out there to notice and give these guys the deal they deserve.

Battalion of Saints
Death-R-Us
(Taang!)
reviewed in issue #87, 9/18/95

Most of the original band members are dead (so sez the liners). The new lineup goes by the name Battalion of Saints A.D., and this group contributes the first two tracks (which are solid Motorhead-inspired hardcore pieces, much like the original B.O.S. sound).

The official Battalion of Saints LP and EP are included, along with some other recordings (a cover of "Ace of Spades" even). The early stuff has been nicely remastered, and it really punches out the speakers.

A nice retrospective, and notice of a new generation (though the guys should really choose another name).

Battery
Whatever It Takes...
(Revelation)
reviewed in issue #155, 3/23/98

A D.C.-area band which slogs its hardcore along in more of a west coast fashion. Thrashing drum work, cascading riffage and half spoken-half howled vocals. Classic athemic stuff.

Very raw and ragged. Battery often shifts course in the middle of a song, which can be a bit annoying. Still, the gang-shout choruses and impossibly energetic pace make Battery easy to love.

More of an old school approach, with echoes of Black Flag, Seven Seconds, Suicidal and other such bands who didn't share a style so much as a feel. Just enough hook work to encourage singing along while the riffs plow forth.

Simple and solid. It can pay to get back to the basics. Battery easily proves that point.

Battery Life
Shotgun Loudmouth
(Avebury)
reviewed in issue #249, January 2004

Back when I was a pup in college, I listened to bands like the Jayhawks and Uncle Tupelo and Soul Asylum play to "crowds" of a dozen or two. And those were the "big" bands. Plenty of other acts slid up and down the roots-punk axis, but most of them didn't even leave a CD tombstone. Battery Life could be one of those. And I mean that in the best way possible.

The feeling is nice and loose, somewhere between Made to Be Broken and the rougher edges of No Depression. These boys claim to be simply a punk band that likes pop music, but the truth is even more complicated.

What is true is that the songs are plentiful, short and well-cut. There is an underlying bombast which provides plenty of power. But the melodies are as much Gram Parsons as they are Bob Mould, with cloudy lyrics casting a pleasant pall over bright hooks.

Reminds me way too much of those dollar-pitcher-of-Natural-Light evenings of days gone by. And I suppose there aren't an awful lot of folks like me who did time in midwestern colleges in the late 80s and early 90s, but hell, you gotta take nostalgia where you find it. These boys play my kind of music. Period.

Bauhaus
Crackle
(Beggars Banquet)
reviewed in issue #163, 7/20/98

While I think a general re-issue of the Bauhaus catalog would be well worthwhile, this disc will turn on some folks who had no idea that Love and Rockets was the second installment in a musical family.

All the fan faves are here: "Bela Lugosi's Dead", the cover of "Ziggy Stardust", "The Passion of Lovers", "She's in Parties". All the stuff that I heard over and over again in college. While I don't actually own a single Bauhaus album, most of the stuff here has been burned into my brain.

Which isn't so bad, even if the music isn't quite as great as some folks like to think. Still, followers of the current resurgence of goth (or dark wave; whatever) culture would do well to look back at one of the originators of the sound. This disc will do that trick.

Nice to have some Bauhaus around the house. More bits and pieces from the real 80s retro music. You know, the stuff that still matters.

Bazooka
Blowhole
(SST)
reviewed in issue #66, 11/15/94

When the band backed Jack Brewer's poetry, trying to improvise everything, I thought things were a bit limited. Sure, the guys could play, but their improvisations seemed to go one way: play a funky beat and stick to the major scales.

And that's where Blowhole sticks, as well. Bazooka tries its hand at some bop rhythms, but doesn't riff like you're expecting. Just nice, tuneful playing.

I know I'm unconventional; when I listen to jazz I like the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Coltrane, Monk and Branford Marsalis's bop records. Stuff that challenges you. Bazooka is light years ahead of stuff like Kenny G, but unfortunately their simple music is aiming at the same audience.

Live, which is probably the best way to appreciate Bazooka. Their improv collaboration with Jack Brewer (he's got something to say on "Incense & Wax") was often more interesting than moments on Blowhole, their first (regular instrumental) disc.

Those wacky guys in Bazooka like to think they're playing jazz, and the percussion-electric bass-sax trio manages to corrupt just about every theory professor's notion about jazz that exists. Hell, I listened to one of my profs in school who tried to make me believe that Ornette Coleman's free jazz had something to do with theory (still don't buy it).

Returning from that tangent-from-hell, Bazooka sometimes tends to repeat itself (these guys don't really vary their style much), but the live improvisations sound much more spontaneous than the studio disc (with obvious good reason). As a jazz record this is pretty sloppy and not terribly innovative, either. But it is amusing stuff to hear, and that Sab rip-off on "Painful Theraputic Process" is interesting, even if Iceburn does that sort of thing much better. Put this one in the middling pile.

See also Jack Brewer.

BE
Thistupidream
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #224, 11/5/01

Power pop with a moody side. Even when the songs get nice and bouncy, BE insists on retaining a dark caul over the stuff. A sense of foreboding. As if what comes next just might be horrific.

I'm not talking about the music, now. I'm referring to the plot lines in the songs. The music colors them that way, you see. Takes a little talent and practice to be able to do things like that. BE knows how to craft some seriously intense songs.

Craft, however, is just the beginning. There is an emotional intensity that is just as impressive. Most bands master one or the other of those two elements. BE is pretty damned good at both.

And so it should come as no surprise that this album bring with it many smiles. Even if they are uneasy. I like music that challenges. BE doesn't seem to know how to make it any other way.

Be/Non
Microsurgical Vasectomy Reversal 7"
(Turnbuckle)
reviewed in issue #138, 7/7/97

Yet another seven-inch from a cool Lawrence band. It's as if now that the whole grunge thing has lifted, all the truly talented people have clawed their way to the surface.

These guys are something like a less-processed Brainiac. Cool noise pop with lots of odd things running about in the background. The b-side, "Claw Use in the Autumn Years of the Twentieth Century", reminds me a lot of Morsel, another truly fine noise pop outfit.

These guys understand how to manipulate their instruments to present a wondrous sound. Yeah, the sound is awfully lo-fi, but there is no other way to really present these ideas.

An album's worth of brilliance in a small slab. Be/Non is plowing some amazing fertile ground.

The Beach Machine
Companion
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #217, 6/4/01

Blasting straight to the edge of the pop music universe, the Beach Machine gets off on a lot of reverb and distortion. Songs that sound like they might be constructed on loops, but I'm guessing they're simply played that way. It's a cool effect.

For me, anyway. I like to kinda get lost in music like this, feeling my way through the excess to find the center. There is a center, by the way. It lies in the rhythm section, which really doesn't muck about much. The lead guitar? There's a lot of wandering there. Not to mention a few electronic accouterments.

The reason these songs work is that center. This isn't simply noise; the Beach Machine plays songs. Somewhat excessively twisted songs sometimes, but songs nonetheless. Me? I wallow in that excess, because I know there are goodies lying at the bottom.

Twenty-four songs here, and each one is distinct from the other. The band's sound and philosophy run through each, however, making this a most fulfilling listen. The Beach Machine may be a tough sell to the masses, but these guys sure know how to explore some great musical ideas.

Beans
Shock City Maverick
(Warp)
reviewed in issue #260, December 2004

The latest from former Anti-Pop Consortium member Beans finds him working just as hard as ever to find the funk within the electronic. The rhymes? Solid, if occasionally a bit heavy on the braggadocio. Ah well, like they say, it ain't braggin' if you can do it.

And since Beans doesn't skimp on the political musings, his occasional forays into silliness don't worry me too much. Personally, I prefer to lie back and let the beats wash over me. It's all too easy to get lost in the background of this album.

The reason it's so quickly addictive is that Beans keeps things stark and simple. The sound is stripped down and basic. One bass line, one beat track. That's it. Hey, if those two elements are great, why throw a blanket over it? Just let the funk roll.

So it does, and interestingly, this one sounds better on repeat listens. I wasn't knocked out after my first listen, but I'm quickly becoming a fanatic. I'd say sneaky good, but this is really much better than that. It's quality is apparent from the beginning. Just turn up the volume and keep out of the way.

Bear
Tracks
(BGR Records)
reviewed in issue #70, 2/14/95

Approaching pop introspection with the same approach to dynamics as Engine Kid, Bear manages to veer much closer to the mainstream than their American soul-mates.

First off, these folks were raised on the Smiths and other melancholy pop bands that never quite broke through over here, so there is more of a tradition on that side of the pond.

The three tracks are all quite nice, but the stunner is "Counting", a masterpiece of morose emotion that runs over 10 minutes long. The other two tracks are shorter, but each is quite different than the other. In fact, "Not Even People" owes a nice debt to Neil Young, who made it acceptable to painfully distort a bass guitar as Bear does.

Would that there was more.

Bear in Heaven
Red Bloom of the Boom
(Hometapes)
reviewed in issue #290, October 2007

Seven songs that sound like they were created by a couple of mutant geniuses. There's a wiggy electronic (even ambient) feel to these songs, the sort of thing that generally doesn't lend itself to a band.

But Bear in Heaven is a band. And these intricately loopy songs are played more than assembled. Color me impressed. In the end, though, it's the final sound that matters, not how it came to be.

And this does sound like the inner musings of a disturbed mind. There is no set "sound," as one piece might be a relatively traditional "song," while the next piece is a sublime bit of experimental whimsy. Sometimes that sorta thing shifts within one individual song. That's when you know there's something cool going on.

It would take years to properly dissect the sounds here. Imagine if Aphex Twin was inspired to interpret 60s and 70s Pink Floyd in his own style. And that's just the starting point. I'm rather blown away. The ambition here is so far beyond what I can imagine that I simply must bow in awe.

The Beatifics
The Way We Never Were
(The Bus Stop Label)
reviewed in issue #235, November 2002

Plenty of bands have channeled Big Star over the years. The Posies were right up front about it, and certainly the dBs and R.E.M. and the Jayhawks and many more owe a big debt. Still, I've never heard anyone fuse the disparate visions of Alex Chilton and Chris Bell like Chris Dorn (songwriter for the Beatifics) does.

Dorn's got Chilton's ragged craft down cold, including the descant-like ringing chords that are a Big Star hallmark. But he also has a nice chunk of Bell's unrestrained exuberance. And so, more than anything, the Beatifics sound like true inheritors of the sound.

Even better, Dorn has a few tricks up his sleeve. These aren't simply songs in the key of Big Star. He has a sly wit that is his alone, and the fuller sound of the Beatifics (six players instead of three) fleshes out these ideas to the hilt.

Simply gorgeous, but hardly simple. The Beatifics play pop in a classic style, creating what might well become a classic album. There's so much here to like, I can hardly contain myself.

Beats the Hell Out of Me
Beats the Hell Out of Me
(Metal Blade Modern)
reviewed in issue #54, 5/15/94

Um, another band that really wishes it was Skin Yard. Sorta like the Sabbath clone thing, this was a nice trend when only a few folks were doing it. Now, it seems a lot more passe.

And while capable, Beats the Hell Out of Me doesn't breathe any life into this sound. The folks seem content to wallow in an increasingly commercial yet creatively dead void.

I've heard better and worse from bands like this. BTHOOM is just another voice in a crowded hallway.

Thavius Beck
Thru
(Mush)
reviewed in issue #280, November 2006

Nominally hip-hop, I guess, but the emphasis here is on sonic construction. Thavius Beck populates his aggressively electronic sounds with all sorts of organic debris. The result can be intoxicating.

First, though, you've got to be willing to give this album a chance. Beck veers from experimental structures to fairly straightforward jazz construction. It's not easy to find purchase with the ideas presented. But just let your mind wander and see what strikes your fancy.

Very much a Mush album in that way. Simplicity has no home here. There's simply a raftload of ideas (almost all of them expressed musically) spinning around on a skeleton of throbbing beatwork.

It's safe to say this is precisely the sort of challenging album that dorky critics like me adore. It's not Top 40 (or even Top 4000, necessarily), but damn, is it good. Don't think too much, and you might agree.

Jason Becker
The Raspberry Jams
(Shrapnel) reviewed in issue #192, 12/6/99

Those of you who recognize the name will wonder: Is it new? Nope. As the liners say rather simply, Becker hasn't recorded anything since 1992 due to ALS. Perhaps best known as David Lee Roth's guitartist in the late 80s, on this disc Becker collects demos from 1987 to 1992.

Mostly snippets, though there are a few fully-formed songs as well. Actually, I kinda like the asides, where Becker really tries to expand his sound and range. "Jasin Street" is a nice little blues piece, and pieces like that impress more than, well, ones like the next track, "Beatle Grubs," which fall into the basic instrumental guitar sound as defined by Joe Satriani.

Picking through the bits isn't the easiest thing in the world, but that's obviously what Becker had in mind here. This isn't a finished album by any means; it's more a final clearing of the decks, an attempt to better define a legacy.

And what I sense more than anything is his potential. Not unlike Randy Rhoads, who was just beginning to expand his sound into something amazing when he was struck down, Becker's later recordings have so much more depth and heart. I know he doesn't want to hear it put this way, but the loss of his playing is a damned shame.

Bedhead
What Fun Life Was
(Trance Syndicate)
reviewed in issue #51, 3/31/94

Unlike almost every other Trance band, these folk do not hoot, holler, scream and scratch their way into your brain.

No, what we have here is a cool sampling of atmospheric pop music that, while addictive, is not mind-debilitating. In fact, expanding the palate to include such sweets is a very good thing for the musical appetite.

There are a lot of British bands who try to do this sort of thing, and those fuckers drive me absolutely nuts. Bedhead, while topically similar to bands like Blur and Ride, are so far superior I don't think even a doctored photo putting the Clovis (N.M.) Hotel up against the Empire State Building would be enough to illustrate the difference.

When the Superchunk album comes out in a couple of weeks, jam it with this disc. Everything will begin to make sense.

Even more understated than previous outings, Bedhead takes minimalist pop out toward Galaxie 500 territory (though with more of a garage feel, to be sure). The tunes are often pretty, in their sparse ways. Just a little hollow in the middle.

I don't mind paying attention to music. Stuff that's on the mellow side of mellow, whatever. And earlier Bedhead certainly fits that territory. But at least the songs got somewhere. With an act like Palace (whatever), the focus is purely on the raw emotions of the lyrics. Bedhead has never really focused on the vocals, and the music here is simply too often two string chords in search of a point.

Now, quite a few of these tunes are better than that (particularly "The Rest of the Day", which, ironically, is also the longest and most self-indulgent song on the album), and on the whole I liked the disc. There are enough good moments to put this on the better side of average. But Beheaded simply doesn't quite live up to my expectations, fair or not.

If you're into this minimalist sound, Bedhead is a band you should check out. Start with the first album, and the later EPs were good, too. If you like all that, then you'll probably groove on this album, too. It's just not the band's best work.

The Brothers Kadane of Bedhead and the Brothers McKay of Macha all grew up together in Wichita Falls, Texas. Some time back, they decided to collaborate on a long-distance record.

So the Bedhead brothers (still in Texas) made a tape of songs-in-progress (containing mostly drums and guitars) and sent it to the bothers in Macha, who by now had relocated.

The result is, well, stunning. Not surprising, considering the pedigree, but most separated studio efforts can sound stilted through no fault of the participants. There's no problem here. Six journeys into the possible, with very little held back. In fact, the distance seems to have inspired even greater flights of fancy than might have been allowed if the collaborators were nearby.

Bedhead, alas, is now gone, but this record is certainly good enough to stand in line with the band's output. Needless to say, this should also please the avid Macha fan. A sum that might be greater than its parts.

The Bee Zoo
Boobalah
(self-released)
reviewed in #164, 8/3/98

I'd never quite seen that spelling for bubeleh (or bubalah, or bewbaleh or whatever). Not that spelling has a damned thing to do with the album. Just something that stuck in my head right off. Sorry about that.

Yer basic alternapop, I guess, with lots of commercial pretensions. Keyboards and acoustic guitars are layered on top of the basic crunchy chords, to the detriment of the songs, I think. Makes the heartfelt lyrics sound trite, like they don't mean anything anyway.

The arrangements are more AAA-oriented as well. Perhaps that's where the money is. Personally, I kinda like a more raw sound. Here, though, the songs start out in interesting ways, but by the end they're fairly cheesy sing-alongs.

I'm thinking the band has painted itself into a corner. The songs aren't crafted enough to really excite major label attention, but they're a bit too simplistic for the average underground pop fan. Kinda sitting at a crossroads here. Good, but for whom?

Beef
Thinking in a Drunk Tank, Drunk in a Think Tank
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #155, 3/23/98

Punk pop forced through a sludge filter. This package arrived rather unadorned, and the music follows suit. The songs are simple, straightforward and strangely beguiling. Somewhere behind the wall of distortion and muddy recording lie the vocals and some semblance of song structure, but the loopy goop on top is impressive enough.

Swirling in a haze of excessive reverb and pinned recording levels, Beef hurls forth a barrage of anger and cutting social comment. At least, that's what I think I hear. I can't be sure.

An artistic use of the lo-fi ideal. I'm not claiming any sophistication for the band, but by God, this sound really works for this music. There's hooks in them thar roiling clouds, but don't expect to find them by staying in the boat. Gotta get out and explore a little bit.

A touch of the apocalyptic is the crowning bit. This disc may have arrived with minimal fanfare, but it made maximum impact.

A collection of songs from assorted 7"s and compilations. Beef proudly carries the banner of indie rock, with simple riffage, upbeat grooves and the usual lack of singing prowess.

These songs are somewhat understated, with grunge-like song construction and emo-style lead guitar work. All within the usual indie pop sound, of course. There aren't many highs and lows, mostly just mid-range howls.

Makes it a little difficult to get real excited about the stuff. It's solid, and at times the lead/rhythm interplay is impressive. But this is almost too basic, if there is such a thing.

Not stupid basic, but just a sorta middle of the road feel. Within the milieu, of course. Mindlessly enjoyable, but kinda faceless as well. Nice. I usually hope for more.

The Beers
The Beers Hotel
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #222, 9/24/01

This disc is marked by a complete lack of subtlety, either musically or lyrically. This lends a real stream-of-consciousness feel to the pieces, and I kinda like that. I do, however, wish that I might have surprised at some point or another.

Once the setting for each song has been set (and I must say, some of those backdrops are pretty cool), it's real easy to predict where everything is going. Rather than building on their fairly creative foundations, the Beers just roll off the concrete flooring.

The production sound is dreadful, as low-fi as any demo I've heard in some time. It's almost as if the guys were going for a muddled, mushy sound. If they were, it was a mistake. A sharper job on the knobs might've helped here.

Man, I do wish some more effort had been spent developing these songs. Because there are good ideas dancing around here, but they generally just sit in a pool of nothing waiting for a catalyst. One that never arrives. Bummer.

Believer
Sanity Obscure
(Roadracer)
reviewed in issue #4, 12/15/91

Well, a couple of months ago this seemed damn heavy for Christian band. Now, it seems tame. But the talent is still apparent. The occasional peppering of acoustics into the mix is nice, and as you know, I'm a big fun of enunciation. Here the vocals are more punk than death, anyway.

The variety of rhythm is very nice. Diversity if good in a death metal band, even one on the accessibility edge such as Believer. I'm not into all the ideology (like the anti-drug screed "Stop the Madness), but this is a great album to listen to.

Specifics: "Wisdom's Call," "Nonpoint," "Dies Irae (Day of Wrath)" are great, as is the rollicking U2 cover "Like a Song." First rate work.

Believer was one of the first real "Christian death metal" bands around. But they simply borrowed from many death metal bands and forged their own sound.

Yes, you can detect a "bravo" from me. There are so many textures to this album (though on the whole I think it lies somewhere in the industrial vein) it would take a scholarly article to lay them all out. And I have more interesting things to do.

So listen. This is part of Roadrunner's "breed beyond" (along with Cynic and Pestilence). Okay. I would only ask why every band couldn't be interesting and experimental (though then I wouldn't be jamming such cool Bad Religion discs all the time). Ignore the tangent.

Don't be afraid. I know you fucks don't care about the religions of the bands you play (Living Sacrifice and Tourniquet come to mind most recently), so play this because it is rather good. Amazing, even.

Hudson Bell
Captain of the Old Girls
(Upperworks)
reviewed in issue #230, June 2002

One of the mysteries of Half Japanese is how Jad Fair managed to make such great pop music without much instrumental talent and no vocal skills to speak of. Hudson Bell isn't the world's greatest singer (his style reminds me a lot of Fair's, to be honest), but he sure does have a way with his music.

The songs also follow the kinda bludgeon-style anthems that typify my favorite HJ stuff. These aren't plodding works, but swooping, majestic delicate sledgehammers that keep falling until the point is driven home once and for all.

Bell's voice also reminds me, at times, of Jay Farrar. And the sophisticated collage style of song construction here is reminiscent of Sebastopol. Not a bad thing at all.

Mostly, though, Bell manages to be himself, no matter who he's reminding me of from moment to moment. I'm a sucker for quavering vocals, and I'm equally enamored of grandiose layered pop music. Plenty of both here to satisfy.

Bella Morte
The Quiet
(Metropolis)
reviewed in issue #236, December 2002

The thing I always liked about industrial goth pop is the way it blended new wave sensibilities with washes of guitars, chunky drum machines and pretty melodies. Perhaps the epitome of this sound for me was Big Electric Cat.

Bella Morte comes pretty close. If Andy Deane could hit his notes just a bit more often, I might give these folks the edge. Still, this album has a great sound. The writing is quite well done, and there's a lovely warmness to the chilly sound.

And don't think that I'm saying Deane can't sing. He can. It's just that sometimes he quavers a bit too much for my taste. A minor quibble, really. Most of the time, he's dead on.

Anyway, it's been a while since I've heard someone do this sound this well. Bella Morte balances its competing urges very well. This is one well-conceived and constructed disc.

Belladonna
Rob You Blind CD5
(Mausoleum)
reviewed in issue #80, 7/15/95

Obviously, this is Joey's new project since getting the boot from Anthrax. The song sounds like a more anthemic Anthrax, but the lyrics are kinda dumb.

He's got good sidemen, and they seem to have a more Eurocentric view of metal. Fine by me. Unlike many folks, I always though Joey was a good enough singer. We'll see what the album sounds like.

Sounding a lot more like Anthrax than, say, the last Anthrax album, Joey Belladonna has put together a solid band and, co-producing with old Anthrax knob-meister Alex Perialas, created a classic hard rock disc.

Mausoleum got major label distribution for this one, and good thing. It should be a monster. The lead track is good, but there is much better fare on the full album. Just start with "Blunt Man" and take it from there. "Injun" seems to have something to say about Joey's parting with Anthrax, if that sort of thing interests you.

Takes me back to high school (in terms of years, that is). Belladonna is deserving of all the attention it garners. This album, while certainly a different style, is as good as White Noise, and I like Joey's voice better. I'm having way too much fun just listening.

George Bellas
Turn of the Millennium
(Shrapnel)
reviewed in issue #137, 6/23/97

Gee whiz guitar playing, without much regard for presentation or feel. This is very much a sequenced project, and Bellas doesn't even try to rough up the sterile edges.

Much of the playing (if not all) is run through MIDI, and that "soft" digital sound leaves the lines sounding almost computer-generated. Oh, I'm sure Bellas played them and all, but the sound is just too tinkly for me.

Other than the solos, almost no thought seems to have been paid to songwriting and the backing music. I'm being harsh, because I know how hard it is to put this sort of thing together, but Bellas simply has left the artistic side of his talent out of this disc. Can he play expressively, instead of relying on pyrotechnics? Can any of his songs make sense without an attached solo? I can't answer either of those questions after listening to this disc.

Almost an artificial album. I know that human hands were heavily involved, but there is no residue from that touch to be heard.

While this album, like Bellas's previous Shrapnel solo outing, was assembled from various parts, it doesn't sound nearly as artificial. Bellas's solos are fluid and impressive, and he has a better feel this time out. A much stronger outing altogether.

And it all began in the studio. Bellas got a little more help, but he also had learned how to use technology better. I mean, everything is mixed on a computer today, but it doesn't have to sound that way. This time, the songs are much more grounded in "real time", as it were.

Bellas still doesn't pay enough attention to the underlying structure of his songs, many of which are solos strung together by middling fare. And he's a bit too happy with whipping out the virtuoso chops and ignoring the real magic of music, which is to communicate.

Overall, however, this is a huge stop forward. Bellas is getting the hang of things, and that bodes well for future endeavors.

The Bellbats
Century
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #138, 7/7/97

Rambling and sometimes raucous emo stylings that every once in a while almost coalesce into a hook, a little catchphrase that always manages to fall through at the last minute. The build-up is excruciating, and the ultimate letdown pure agony.

It's been a while since I've been so wondrously manipulated. The playing is always slightly out of tune, and the singing is never even close. The songs sound like they've just been decanted from the storehouse, with the band discovering them just as they are being played here.

Fresh is an overused word. I heard someone a couple days ago refer to some Nirvana song as "fresh". But despite my misgivings, I think you'll understand. This is truly fresh music. The songs are written in an unusual yet accessible style, and the performances here have been captured in amazing style. It's as if the Bellbats are playing right in front of me. And the show is one of the best I've seen.

Alright, the folks have trademarked their name. I'll overlook that bit of legal excess (mostly because I know plenty of folks who didn't do that and then got screwed, even after recording a couple albums) and simply exhort anyone reading this to find this disc and play it lots. Play it loud, play it soft, play it for your lover, your friend or even that asshole down the street who slashed your tires. Great music must be shared at all costs.

Belle Academe
Shimmer
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #155, 3/23/98

The shimmer is the vocal work. Performed by a woman who goes by the name "Nicole". The voice is cool. The music doesn't quite make it that far.

That kinda pop-rock thing, more pop than rock as the album moves ahead. And the more pop this band gets, the more the songs sink into musical cliches. Oh, the singing is nicely fuzzy, but the songs aren't particularly clever or inventive. Comeptetent playing and production, but in severe need of a sense of adventure.

I wish I could be nicer, but there's not much here to recommend. On a couple tracks the guitars start buzzing and I feel a Hammerbox vibe. But I'd much rather hear Hammerbox (not to mention a couple thousand other bands) than this.

Belloluna
Livid and Loving It
(Daemon)
reviewed in issue #173, 12/14/98

Pop from the big tent, replete with offbeat lyrics and unusual arrangements. Not convoluted, but certainly complex. The sort of sound which quickly draws a listener in to the music.

In other words, music with intent. The basic group plays the standard instruments, with a fair emphasis on piano as a rhythm device, but there's plenty of horns and other things thrown into the mix as well.

Pretentious, in that Belloluna is definitely going for it. But really, this is just easygoing pop music dressed up in tails. References to all sorts of sounds (heavy on the seventies, from fuzz guitar to Burt Bacharach), always fresh and inventive.

An album which simply doesn't let up. Heavy on the craftsmanship, but so smooth it sounds like it was recorded live to tape. Quite the listen, indeed.

The Bellrays
Wall of Soul 7"
(Vital Gesture)
reviewed in issue #145, 10/13/97

I also got a tape from these folks; that will be reviewed in the next issue. The Bellrays are yer basic rockin' blooze foursome. Lisa Leilani Kekaula has a great wail, and the band doesn't slouch behind her.

The songs are well-written, and manage to avoid any obvious cliches (a real accomplishment within this particular vein of music). Alright, so the production leaves a lot to be desired (the sound simply drops out in the middle, and the bass is barely hanging on. A little more power would be good.

But the base is solid. Good playing, great singing and three solid songs. A good set.

As promised, the review of the full-length tape. The music is a bit more hippie pop than the blues exhibited on the seven-inch, but Lisa Leilani Kekaula's jazz-inflected vocals are still impressive.

I definitely prefer the stuff I heard last time out. The music sounds somewhat rote, with little spark. I don't think this style properly shows off Kekaula's voice or the talent of the band. Of course, this tape also suffers terribly from "demo-itis", which makes it kinda hard to hear what's going on much of the time.

The seven-inch is much better. Since this tape is pretty old, I hope the band has moved more in that direction. This isn't up to what I expected.

Actually, the Cheetahs are first up on the disc. I was just playing the alphabetical game. Anyway, the Streetwalkin Cheetahs are the punk side of this equation, ripping off huge chunks of riffage and infusing them with just the right amount of hooks. Most tasty.

Plenty of fun without getting stupid. The Cheetahs don't let the tempo slow, and that fine aggro attitude infuses the songs with a palpable energy. Quality, yes indeed.

The Bellrays have found a new sound since the last time I heard them. Lisa Kekaula's voice is as soulful as ever, but her band is much more into an acid rock/hippie metal sound (somewhere between Jefferson Airplane and Black Sabbath). If I didn't know this was the Bellrays, I couldn't have guessed it.

Perhaps, however, the band has found its niche. For the first time, the elements seem to come together well. Perhaps this Bellrays can make it work.

Bellwether
I Can't Hear You
(Anechoic)
reviewed in issue #210, 1/8/01

The press sticker on the case of this disc described the music as "correlating the loud and soft of rock music." Or, to use a well-worn label, emo (this is acknowledged in the next line of the sticker, which places the band in the "post math/emo/hard core stratosphere"). Now, Bellwether is a bit more straightforward in its song constructions than more traditional emo bands, but I think this just takes the sound in a somewhat different direction.

Because emo has been heading in the power pop direction. This turns the other way, wandering back down a Archers of Loaf/Treepeople kinda path. There is some wonderful idiosyncratic lead guitar playing, and in general, the music consists of many lines coming together at the most intriguing points.

And, of course, it's soft and it's loud. Not to mention in-between. The one thing Bellwether isn't is subtle. There's none of that here. Not much wit, either. These boys simply play with music with all the passion and intensity they can muster. Ah, the glory of youth in full bloom!

I'm not making fun of the guys. Rather, I'm marveling. Making an album like this requires huge piles of inspiration and hard work. Not to mention a little luck. Bellwether has all three, and also seems to have a sense of how songs should sound. That's damn near priceless.

Below Sound
Mr. Blue 7"
(Transonic Artists)
reviewed in issue #101, 3/4/96

Fuzzy, bass-heavy pop stuff. With just enough of that Seattle operatic whine to remind you where these folks are from.

The guitar work is rather reminiscent of the tremolo-laden sound Stone Gossard had on the Mother Love Bone album. Wild and loopy and stuff. Not an unattractive bit.

But after a while, the stuff starts to drone (and there are only two songs here). You want to yell "Time to kick ass boys! Let it go!". But the sound just keeps rolling and rolling and rolling...

And it's done. Not a terrible ride, but those last spins were kinda monotonous.

Fuzzy pop that fits the name of the band very well. Lots of distortion, and no shortage of hooks, even if they get a bit on the drony side of things. Yeah, just a load of that pseudo-psychedelic grunge pop.

I can't believe I just committed label-itis like that. Ah well, it fits the band, anyway. Kinda like Pearl Jam after a couple joints. Below Sound has a nice feel, but I do wish the songs would go somewhere sometime.

Like with the 7", the production is good, dirty enough to keep the feel the band obviously wants. And each part operates well within its space. I'd simply be happier if this didn't degenerate into mellow Seattle-type stuff so often.

Good, but not hyper-affecting. Nothing to rip on, particularly, but the effort never rises above workmanlike. I can't hear the inspiration.

Beluga
Nuke the Gay Whales
(CM)
reviewed in issue #96, 1/22/96

An interesting amalgam of heavy blues and punk, with plenty of other touches thrown in. The production is a little weak, leaving the edges rather fuzzy and undefined.

Sometimes Beluga pulls a gem, like the faux-gospel blues riff "Let's Get High and Read the Bible", the nice boogie of "Blackout Blues" and the bluesy-DK feel of "Cocksucker Pig" (singer Tom Hevey sounds a lot like Jello on this one). But many of the other songs come off forced-sounding and don't leave much of an impression.

Too uneven to rate highly, Beluga manages to pull off the improbable often enough to impress me. I would hate to ask the guys to get a little more coherent, but some closer attention to the nuts and bolts of songwriting might pay big dividends. The stuff doesn't need to be toned down, just tuned up.

Beneath Autumn Sky
Beneath Autumn Sky EP
(Hefty)
reviewed in issue #216, 5/14/01

There's something about these experimental electronic reworkings of hip-hop grooves. Maybe it's just me, but I'm almost always knocked out. Are all of these kinda things really great, or am I just getting the cream of the crop?

With Beneath Autumn Sky, I'm pretty sure it's the latter. Like some of the best stuff on Wordsound, these folks manage to express their new ideas within existing hip-hop vernacular, thus ensuring the continuation of the groove.

Or, to put it simply, these are some tight jams. Really great stuff, both out there and utterly intimate. Listening to these pieces is like watching the thoughts flit through someone's head. That's how up close these songs can get.

Nothing ordinary or repetitive here. Just some astonishingly creative fare expressed in truly beautiful fashion. Pretty hard to argue with a proposition like that.

Benediction
Dark Is the Season EP
(Nuclear Blast)
reviewed in issue #24, 11/15/92

While there are only three new tunes (of the five), and one is an Anvil cover, I'm still glad to hear something new from these guys. Their album The Grand Leveller was a highlight of last year , and I had high hopes.

Not completely dashed, but this seems to be a quick-kill kind of release. They should be sitting down soon to record another great album, and then we can forget about most of this disc. Not that it's bad, but only the title track lives up to their past. And why dump a track from "Leveller" here?

Hey guys, if you want to stay on my "waycool" list, better record a full-length pretty soon. 'nuff sed.

Haunting, delicate melodies twist and mesh in a sound that can only be compared to a steaming cup of tea...

I've always wanted to start a review that way. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. Apart from wondering how you transcend a river and all, this cruised my brain and left me smiling.

The Grand Leveller was a masterpiece, and this picks up where that left off. A seamless death metal performance. These boys have always had a certain flow that put them above the pack, and it is further evolved on this album.

Incorporating various elements of the different metal circles is a great marketing move, and it sounds even better. This is a true death metal album that has wide-ranging appeal. The lush production leaves no eardrum cell left unshaken. Another god-like performance.

I don't know why they bother with these middling EPs. Cash, I suppose.

Oh, the two new studio tracks are passable for Benediction, but neither are particularly great (well, "The Grotesque" is pretty good, actually). Anyway, the three live tracks sound like they were recorded underwater, with everything sloshing into each other. I like the studio versions much better, thank you.

With any luck, we'll see a positively stunning full-length in six months or so. That should make up for this little bit of silliness.

Running through band members almost as fast as Napalm Death (which is where at least one ended up, and where more than one came from), Benediction has soldiered on, mostly because of the keen perception that a famous band name sells more than a good record.

But Benediction has always come through with the goods on the full-lengths (though the EPs have mostly blown chunks). This disc is more tightly produced than any previous outing, and Benediction has always been known for a pretty clean sound.

There is certainly an emphasis on song crafting and structure that lesser bands ignore, to the point of overwork at times.

Benediction has arrived with another good effort. Not sparkling, but certainly worthy of note. While the time of benediction for the band may be arriving one of these days, this album makes it easy for the boys to keep on keeping on.

The Benevento-Russo Duo
Play Pause Stop
(Reincarnate Music)
reviewed in issue #276, July 2006

Somewhere between prog, indie rock and laptop pop lies the Benevento Russo Duo. I've been grooving on these folks for a quite a while, and they've been playing for even longer.

Marco Benevento plays keyboards (with generally two or three things going on at once) and Joe Russo supplies the skin work. And while these songs are impeccably written and arranged, it's the way these guys work together that really makes their music wonderful.

The sound on the album is slightly fuzzy--Benevento prefers that different lines have different sounds, and one of them is a slightly-distorted electric piano--which lends these songs a vaguely off-kilter feel. In no way, however, does this take away from the astounding melodic instinct of the band. And unless I miss my guess, these songs were recorded live to tape (or whatever). If not, these guys are even more talented than I've guessed.

These guys have been playing together for something like 15 years. You can hear it in the way these songs come together. We're not talking about mere anticipation...these two know what the other will be doing. And that rapport helps these intricate pieces come together most impressively.

Bennet
Super Natural
(Roadrunner)
reviewed in issue #126, 1/13/97

Well, everyone needs an acerbic Britpop band in their lineup, I suppose. And honestly, Bennet is much better than most of the wankers some other indies have been propagating.

Attacking the pop form with guitars wailing, Bennet scrawls its way through 16 songs, including "the obligatory secret track", a song whose construction rips Pavement a new asshole. Hey, I love these folks!

The stuff is incandescent joy, peals of ar