H2O
Thicker than Water
(Epitaph)
reviewed in issue #144 (9/29/97)

Led by former Sick of It All roadie Toby Morse, H2O thrashes through a set of tuneful hardcore that is reminiscent of, well Morse's former employers.

Less metallic of course (it's amazing how many hardcore bands pick up that extra guitar overdub when they get money for the studio), and with a bit more emphasis on melody, H2O bows to no one when it comes to attitude.

And when the pop feel really comes out, like on "I See It in Us", H2O cops a Down by Law feel (when Morse sings, he really sounds a lot like Dave Smalley). Personally, I think this is a good thing.

Enough power to satisfy the adrenaline junkies, and enough tunesmithing to make a few popheads turn theirs. H2O isn't great yet, but this album has plenty of extra-fine moments. If the growth process continues, well, it could be very exciting.

No obscenities in that title. Just "Faster Than the World". Sorry to burst yer bubble. Other than that, this disc shows off what H2O does best: Combine some oozin' ahs with tight hardcore (more of late 80s NYC vintage than the more recent moshcore sound). And while the first two discs weren't bad, this one is easily the best of the set.

Effervescently powerful, an almost incomprehensibly difficult effect to conjure up. H2O breezes through these muscular songs with wit and flair, never stopping to take a breath. Well, I'm sure the live show is somewhat less frenetic, but the magic of the studio has created a heart-stopping set.

And that studio sound is important. The guitars are fairly free of distortion, allowing them to sound powerful even as the riffs pile up like used condoms on Broadway. Always, always, the vocals are placed on top, holding all the pieces together. Sing along, now.

And that's the thing. This is tough music, lifted up by incredibly catchy choruses. Wowsers. I can barely catch my wind.

Jeff Haas Trio with Marvin Kahn
L'Dor VaDor-Generation to Generation
(Schoolkids' Records)
reviewed in issue #117, 8/26/96

The trio is made up of the basic instruments: bass, percussion and piano (where Jeff Haas resides). Marvin Kahn adds his exquisite touch with an alto clarinet, which has a bit different tone than the standard B flat clarinet (it's a bit larger and thus plays a bit lower).

Jeff Hass is the son of Karl Haas (yes, that Karl Haas), and he goes about his composing and arranging with the meticulous attention of a serious music scholar. Most of the songs are arrangements of traditional Hebrew melodies, put into a jazz context. By bringing many traditions of music together (including one of his father's pieces), Haas shows a deft touch. He has a knack for the oldest of musical professions: reinventing the standard.

The playing is reverential, but not ponderous. Hass, Kahn and cohorts know exactly how to make this music sing. The production stays completely out of the way, allowing the musicians to completely express themselves in an uninhibited manner.

Cool, but not cold. Scrupulously scripted, but not straitlaced. Hass and friends have presented these ideas in a beautiful way. A wonderful expression of appreciation of history and hope for the future.

Habacus Sucubah
Recontre II EP
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #200, 6/5/00

Sort of a jazzy take on the electronic noise sound. The keyboard pulses rarely degenerate into distortion, but there's not much here in the way of traditional song construction. Rather, each piece seems to be set up around a particular rhythmic idea, and most of the song is then the reverberations of that key thought.

Kind of like variations on a theme, but not quite. This is a bit too scattered for that. Habacus Sucubah is simply throwing a lot of sound down onto a disc and seeing what sticks.

As you might expect, some of this really clicks. But the constant exploration means that the band never settles into a groove. Creative? Yep. Intriguing? You bet. Boring? Never. A challenge? Most certainly. I'm not entirely sure what to make of this, but I liked the workout.

Kurt Hagardorn
Ten Singles
(Bladen County Records)
reviewed in issue #286, June 2007

Ten singles...as opposed to ten songs that would constitute a coherent album. I've been digitizing my old 7"s (it'll probably take me another three or four months to finish), and I've been struck by how many bands--even not particularly good ones--seem to work harder for the singles. I don't know if Hagardorn worked harder, but the singles ethic does seem to be in force here.

The sound is modern Americana--loosely-played roots stuff with organ and other appropriate accouterments. Hagardorn, who has played with Thad Cockrell and Caitlin Cary (among others), tends to sing more about the internal than the external, which makes some of these songs a bit difficult to enter. Though the music is decidedly inviting.

These songs were recorded over six years, so I don't know if these really are ten singles. I don't think they were, but it is a cool title, and it does set up the structure of the album.

Deceptively simple songs that impress in a backward sorta way. Recognition comes at the end of the songs, not the start. So stick with this one and you'll be most pleased.

Hagfish
Caught Live
(Cold Front)
reviewed in issue #179, 3/29/99

A very clean live recording. As the note said, this is something of a greatest hits package, with the best of a couple albums present. Hagfish doesn't really specialize in any sort of sound, but simply cranks out fairly amusing little punk ditties.

Like I said, this recording is sharp. Every moment of greatness and every fuckup is caught in living splendor. There are plenty of examples of both (Hagfish is fairly sloppy live, though that does lend a certain charm to the proceedings) to be found here.

The songs themselves are tightly written and, at least here, executed with little regard for technique. Plenty of sing-alongs, plenty of bouncy guitar lines. Plenty of dropped lyrics and chords.

A fun set, one that is probably best suited to the fans. This isn't the sort of disc which will inspire the uninformed, but it does provide a nice picture of the band.

A collection of b-sides and other hard-to-find material from these boys. The studio sound gives me a better idea of what the band is trying to do (I wasn't so sure after hearing the live disc). What it sounds like to me is Down By Law with a sharper sense of humor.

I'll take that in a second. Now, of course, the songs here don't hang as well together as they might on a regular album (we're talking about stuff recorded over a seven-year period), but they do alright.

Probably the best thing Hagfish does is stick to what it does best. These are great punk-pop tunes, and the band doesn't try to stretch them into something more. Fun, with just enough of a bite to lend an air of authenticity.

This is really a much better presentation of the band than the recent live album. I'm much more impressed now that I've heard this. Hagfish is indeed something worth having around.

Hai Karate
Hai Karate
(Man's Ruin)
reviewed in issue #158, 5/4/98

The sort of punk raver album that skips on by. Nine songs, 18 minutes. An EP? God, I'm sick of fucking with musical semantics. This is an album, I guess. Do you care? Doubtful.

Hai Karate kicks out its jams with more of a bar band approach (harmonica, gang vocals, etc.), and that helps to make the music even more arresting. Yeah, the riffs are old, but the lines are amusing and the energy is utterly infectious.

I've been hearing more and more punk bands wandering down this path, and I think it's a good idea. This is the natural extension of the punk ideal, jamming like a mother and swigging a few beers in the process. Simple, basic and fun.

Nothing spectacular, just a damned fine time.

Hairy Patt Band
Buford's Last Pusser
(Choke Inc.)
reviewed in issue #65, 10/31/94

What Killdozer might sound like if those guys decided to completely forget about hooks and instead listened to a lot of Dogbowl and Daniel Johnston.

Um, right after mentioning the Dogbowl thing I noticed that this disc was recorded at Noise with Kramer and a guy named Steve. Imagine my surprise.

Highly unusual fare. The guitars are usually wanging about somewhere in the next galaxy, and the drums merely constantly in motion. No bass. It might be loony sludge. It might be sludgy country. It might be wacky, cascading pop. This is not music for the incontinent. They might blow their whole bladder right out after a listen to this.

The only weak song is the cover of "Jack and Diane". It's completely unnecessary and actually detracts from the rest of the disc. Just skip track one and get to the good stuff.

Hairyapesbmx
Expatriape
(Artist Workshop-V&R)
reviewed in issue #196, 3/6/00

A nice little funk band with generally rapped vocals. The style is laid back more often than not (that's singing and playing), though the guys do ratchet up the intensity when necessary.

What Hairyapesbmx does quite well is crank out the grooves. These guys know exactly how to find a slinky little kink and exploit it for all it is worth. Funk can be complicated, but there's gotta be something simple at the core.

The band sound (as opposed to a synthetic-sounding faux-funk feel) really drives home the grooves. This feel is nice and organic, a warm sound that really provides a nice space for the songs.

The guys aren't afraid to take chances, either. Hairyapesbmx covers so much ground, even while staying true to the groove, that I'm simply knocked out. Quite stirring.

Haji's Kitchen
Haji's Kitchen
(Shrapnel)
reviewed in issue #82, 8/14/95

Industrial drumming, processed vocals and a grinding buzzsaw guitar attack. Wait, this isn't the first Pantera album, is it?

No, and to call this a rip wouldn't quite be fair (though it's close). After all, Haji's Kitchen is still a little too steeped in the grunge to really be stealing from Pantera (though those King's X and Soundgarden references are downright spooky at times).

A decent, workmanlike album that combines various aspects of current metal trends into a palatable package. This does not suck. In fact, I really got into a couple songs. But in five years will this stuff seem remotely important? No, because the band members seem much more interested in what other bands are doing than in making new music. There is plenty of talent here; Haji's Kitchen should be doing more than surfing metal trends.

Ed Hale and Transcendence
Rise and Shine
(TMG)
reviewed in issue #229, May 2002

Ed Hale and Transcendence play exceptionally catchy AAA tuneful rock (with just the right dash of soul). I usually don't go for this kind of commercial project. There's just the one thing. These guys are really, really good.

Which is not to say the music is edgy. It's not. There are rounded edges aplenty. Not a problem, as Hale imbues his songs with so many ideas that it's hard to get bored. There are all sorts of musical references to ponder, and the lyrics, likewise, ask more questions than they answer.

And it's all wrapped up in this pretty package. This stuff could be played on the radio without a question. The sound is big and sharp and shiny. But there's a certain substance that's missing from most mainstream rock. Or, to put it more plainly, there's a there here.

Highly enjoyable music that slyly challenges. Hale and friends don't charge straight for the edge, but they manage to trip a few nice tangents anyway. A real solid package.

Half Film
The Road to the Crater
(Devil in the Woods)
reviewed in issue #184, 7/5/99

Irish band, Frisco-area label, the sorta stuff I'd expect to hear from a band on the eastern side of the midwest. Not out of step with Hurl or that sort. There is the Irish accent on the vocals, but still. Meandering, subdued pop music with more than a little noise in the mix.

Vaguely atonal, too, in a vague way. I get the feeling I've heard these guys before, but I'm still happy to have this disc. Since I haven't come across Half Film in the past, I'll simply be happy with the deja vu.

The songs wind and roll along. They start and stop, not always at logical points. What I'm trying to say here is that this is the sort of band which will compliment the comfortable cheese epicenters of a good many people, even though they too have never come across this exact band before.

The more I look at this review, the more nebulous it seems. As I listen, my thoughts become more and more unfocused. I lose myself in the tuneage and have to struggle to return. I'd say that's a fair compliment.

Half Hour to Go
Items for the Full Outfit
(Grass)
reviewed in issue #114, 7/15/96

Boisterous pop that was mastered at an astonishingly high level. This puppy simply pounded out of my speakers at a much higher volume than any of the other discs I reviewed this week.

Nothing kinky, nothing strange. Half Hour to Go cranks out full-on pop music at max volume and intensity. Some tracks are gorgeous gems (like "Theatre in The Round"), while others take a while to really find their stride. Don't worry, they get there eventually.

Some bands just have a knack for this sorta thing. Half Hour to Go is obviously one of them. The guys know that simple is often best, and while some songs do have nicely complex structures, the overall goal is simplicity itself.

Far too pleasing to leave on a rack somewhere. Half Hour to Go is one of those bands that leaves everyone wanting more.

Half Japanese
Fire in the Sky
(Safe House)
reviewed in issue #38, 8/31/93

Calling Half Japanese an acquired taste is an understatement. Calling Jad Fair's voice annoying is to voice truth, but then, you could say the same about Daniel Johnston (who has one of his songs covered here).

And they are both in the same category: guys with marginal musical talent who are geniuses when it comes to observing things. And creating moods with their music.

It is still music, after all. Even when Ornette Coleman or John Zorn fly off the furthest cliff, only Wynton Marsalis would say it isn't jazz. This is certainly weird, but it is also strangely affecting.

Jad Fair has improved his playing and even his singing, and Moe Tucker achieves a nice early VU sound in her production, which is certainly more than appropriate.

Halfway
Farewell to the Fainthearted
(Laughing Outlaw)
reviewed in issue #266, July 2005

So can you call it Americana if the band is Australian? Why not? Seven guys in the outfit, and enough pedal steel and dobro to take me down the road apiece. Indeed, I can name a couple dozen bands around my little corner of North Carolina who would love to make music this good.

The songs are impressive, but I think I like the collective feel of the album the best. When you've got seven members (and a lengthy list of guests), a genial, collaborative sound often results. These ideas have been bounced off any number of folks, and they came back improved.

When I go to the beach later this summer, I'll be packing this disc, a bottle of the finest bourbon and as little else as possible. Keep it easy, and make sure the ice cube bin stays full.

Halfway to Gone
High Five
(Small Stone)
reviewed in issue #220, 8/13/01

Stoner rock with a southern soul. I'm not saying this trio is actually from the south (I'm pretty sure the boys are from somewheres around Detroit), but there is a certain "down home" feel to some of the fuzzball riffage.

Which isn't to say that Halfway to Gone is above rehashing just about every stoner rock stereotype in the book. These songs are often ponderous (though generally less than four minutes long) with at least as many nods to Black Sabbath as Lynyrd Skynyrd (even on a song subtitled "The Van Zant Shuffle").

The sound is as thick as it needs to be. And then some. Right in line with the profile. Nothing wrong there. I just wish that the songs themselves took a few more chances.

There are so many places that stoner bands haven't explored, even within their own sound. Halfway to Gone, despite the occasional glance askance, didn't fulfill my expectations of something new.

Hallelujah Boy
Noise and Silence
(Transaction)
reviewed in issue #279, October 2006

Hallelujah Boy has spent a lot of time recording and posting new demos, hoping to reach 100 songs by the end of the year. Somewhere in between, the boys actually polished up twelve of them and have this album to show for it.

Perky indie-pop fare, the sort of thing that ought to interest fans of GBV and similar sorts. There's a bit more reliance on organ and general electronics here, and that helps to fill out the sound. I like it. Well-orchestrated without the orchestra.

Sometimes it pays to let the seams show. The production sound is hardly perfect, but the wrinkles here and there provide an interesting view into the mind of the band. What you don't fix says a lot about you.

What I hear is a band that wants to sound human. Not out-of-tune or overly messy or anything like that. Just not perfect. Except for the hooks. Some of them may, in fact, be beyond reproach. It's always good to stock plenty of honey.

Haloblack
Funkyhell
(Fifth Colvmn)
reviewed in issue #126, 1/13/97

I love "dirty" electronic music albums. Bryan Black (aka Haloblack) has crafted a fine set of experimental industrial tunes.

Black hails from Minneapolis, and so its not surprising that his interpretation of "funk" has more than a little to do with the impressions of the great purple one. This revelation came to me while listening to "Nympho" (no, the title wasn't the key here...), and it did color much of the rest of my listening. Now, I'm not saying Black stole from anyone, but his funk features greasy (and highly manipulated) guitar licks, which ties him into that whole Paisley thing. No complaints, of course.

Now I've really done it. Haloblack sounds nothing like Prince (if you don't believe me, plunk down the cash and listen for yourself). I was merely making... no, if I try to explain more it just gets more fucked up. Leave the dog lying about.

Now, before I got so rudely interrupted by myself, I was about to mention the really nice sound Black got on this album. A nasty sort of funk, one that has little to do with the real world. Cyberfunk, or something like that.

You know, the more I try to compliment Haloblack, the more I fuck up. I'm stopping now.

Neil Hamburger
Neil Hamburger is America's Funnyman
(Drag City)
reviewed in issue #117, 8/26/96

Recorded "live" in Albuquerque, Modesto and Las Vegas. Perhaps.

The joke in this comedy album is that nothing is funny. Hamburger (or whoever he is) has completely drained each and every one of his jokes of any humor whatsoever. He's managed this feat despite the fact that many of his "jokes" had astonishingly funny premises.

In other words, this is "high concept" comedy. The idea that a person would stand on stage and say this stuff, hoping for a laugh, is completely hilarious. Of course, you also get the reaction of folks like my wife, who wondered why anyone would go to the trouble to hear this painful stuff in order to get a cheap snigger or two. Fair question.

I don't know. I suppose I'm a masochist for comedy. And while Neil Hamburger doesn't have a funny joke in his repertoire, the act itself can be sidesplitting. Don't believe me? Well, you probably shouldn't.

Hamell on Trial
Choochtown
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #193, 12/20/99

Why not kick an album off with a spoken word piece called "Go Fuck Yourself?" It's a basic sense of charm like that that really keeps this disc on an even level. Hamell on Trial is mostly Ed Hamell, a guy who strongly resembles a bald Danny Aiello.

And he's got that New York attitude as well. That's the charm I was referring to earlier. The vocals often turn into arhythmic rants, and the guitars (particularly the acoustic ones) can careen out of control as well. These are not the songs of a wallflower.

Nope, Hamell on Trial sounds more like "everybody on trial." Ed's pissed, and he's letting loose. Man, this is a wonderfully liberated disc. No-holds-barred, no punches pulled. Everything is on the table. Can I write one more cliche?

Sure, but I won't. The thing is, Hamell on Trial is definitely not cliche. This is earnest anger, delivered with venom. Refreshing and pointed to the end. Definitely cool.

Sara Hamilton
Call My Name
(Saricana/Red Eye)
reviewed in issue #266, July 2005

Sara Hamilton has that Mary Chapin Carpenter mid-alto range, and she knows her way around writing songs as well. This album is set up to feature those two things, and those two things only.

Which is how I would have produced it as well. Hamilton is obviously angling for a Nashville contract, though I'm not sure she's got the glitz and firepower. Maybe she really is aiming for the AAA country-folk-pop submarket, that commercial side of alt.country where Carpenter and Rosanne Cash (another obvious influence) reside.

Her stuff is good enough, and like I noted up top, producer Jesse Dayton makes sure to dress up the music without distracting the listener from Hamilton's voice and ideas. The album sounds lovely, as it should.

I always get a little bummed when I hear such a fine album and yet can't quite envision commercial success. Only a little, though, because most musicians never make an album as fine as this.

HammerFall
Glory to the Brave
(Nuclear Blast America)
reviewed in issue #140, 8/4/97

A Dutch band that has studied melodic metal quite well. The guitar lines are right out of Helloween, and Joacim Cans' vocals sound a lot like a leaner version of Bruce Dickinson.

Speed and melody are equally treasured by HammerFall, and this incessant drive forward keeps the project tight and focused. The songs are all cut from the same sheet, but there's enough creativity to keep the sound lively.

Basically, this is one big load of fun. Everything is in its place, as would be expected, and HammerFall makes sure to drop in some seriously prodigious playing. Nothing over-the-top, but enough to get that rush going.

Retro and loving it. This sort of music can get pompous and overbearing in a heartbeat, and the band has done a good job keeping the lines simple and gorgeous. Albums like this are helping to bring about a new metal renaissance. And about time, too.

Larry Hankin
Pomes & Stories
(New Alliance)
reviewed in issue #83, 8/21/95

The poet as stand up comic. If that sounds cheesy, then dig into Larry Hankin. He'll convince you otherwise.

He is reasonably literate, but not highbrow. He uses literary forms to craft messages into his seemingly mindless, funny stories. When the piece is done, after your laughter subsides, a realization will follow. After you get used to the delivery, you will begin to truly appreciate the amusing art of Larry Hankin.

While much spoken word can be pretentious (even if interesting), Larry Hankin's stories are decidedly self-deprecating. He wants his ideas to get across and makes sure you don't have any problem with the interface. Just listen, okay?

The Hanks
Your New Attraction
(Cobra Music)
reviewed in issue #281, December 2006

It's been a while since I've gotten some first-class melodic emo. The sound that was played to death a few years back still yields the occasional sprightly disc.

And actually, this disc is a lot more anthemic than light on its feet. But the hooks are sweet and the power chords are like butter. The Hanks aren't reinventing the wheel, but they've found one slick prototype.

The production is shiny, but not metallic. There's an indie feel here, even though its more than apparent these boys want to move so much farther down the road. The sound is a nice frame for this picture of a band on the move.

Of course, this isn't exactly the most commercial sound these days. Okay by me. I just call good music when I hear it and let the industrialists fight over profits. Don't ask for the moon and this one will surprise nicely.

Hannah Cranna
Hannah Cranna
(Big Deal)
reviewed in issue #137, 6/23/97

A big sticker on the front proclaims "Produced by Joey Molland of Badfinger". That's supposed to be a kicker? Maybe for aging baby boomers who haven't heard a good band since Grand Funk Railroad broke up.

Luckily, Hannah Cranna's music outpaced the expectations that sticker provided. Not by a lot, mind you, but this stuff isn't dreck or anything. It is, however, a sharper produced and somewhat better written version of the "whiny white guy" music that I bitched about in the Five Dollar Milkshake review.

Actually, the production is the best thing about this disc. It captures some emotion and feeling that the actual performances lack. This is very pretty and all, but I simply cannot identify with the subject matter.

A weak version of the sort of thing the Jayhawks still do very well. In fact, the more I listen to this the more I'm reminded of some of the worse moments on the first two Jayhawks albums on American. Moodiness without meaning. Oh, it sounds gorgeous, but the music is still a big doughnut. Hollow in the middle.

Kevin Hannan
Bridge to Atlantis
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #217, 6/4/01

Somewhere between dreamy English pop (say, Danny Wilson or something like that) and Elliot Smith lies Kevin Hannan. He's got that warbling voice and kinda twisted intensity that pretty much requires a listen or two.

Dramatic, almost anthemic fare. Hannan drenches his arrangements with all sorts of overlays, from synth strings to guitar washes to cascading electronic rhythms. Thing is, he's probably most effective when he keeps things simple, such as on "Riding Horses on the Moon."

But Hannan's grand ambitions preclude that. And sometimes, as on "Madman," the song that follows "Horses," Hannan gets it right, adding just the right amount of background to fully flesh out his ideas.

A lot of the time, though, the songs sound like extravagant muddled messes. Interesting messes, to be sure. Compelling and riveting, even in excess, Hannan sure knows how to write a song. He needs to have a steadier hand with his arrangements, but that oughta come with time.

Hanson Brothers
Gross Misconduct
(Alternative Tentacles)
reviewed in issue #25, 11/30/92

Those wacky Canadians (Nomeansno, I mean) are at it again. This totally Ramones set of tunes is enough to make anyone jump around and make total fools of themselves. Of course the music is completely derivative! Of course the lyrics are retarded (though awful funny)! Of course you'll love it!

Yes, Tommy, Johnny, Robbie and Kenny (ahem) Hanson come together to celebrate the neato sounds of the late seventies and early eighties that we all still hold near and dear to our hearts.

Quit being so goddamn serious and play this fucker, alright? The band really doesn't exist (under this name, anyway), but you probably played Spinal Tap. It'll bring a smile to the hearts of your listeners. And maybe you, too. Go "Blitzkrieg Hops"! (Don't forget to check out the 7" included inside.)

See also Nomeansno.

Hanzel und Gretyl
Ausgeflippt
(Energy)
reviewed in issue #89, 10/9/95

So German, half the songs are in that language. And while the usual German industrial touches are present (body-jacking beats, monstrous guitars, etc.), Hanzel und Gretyl manage to infuse plenty of innovative touches into their mix.

For starters, the beat does mutate, from mellow to fast, depending on the mood. A few pieces have an almost ambient feel (in a cool way, that is).

Where Die Warzau hyperexperimented with jazz on its last outing, Hanzel und Gretyl really rip through most of the electronic trends of the day, making them theirs. This album has the potential to be a real industrial dance touchstone. So many moods, so many colors... Makes me wonder who can resist.

The first Energy release, Ausgeflippt, flipped through most of the biggest industrial/electronic trends of two years ago. The same is true here. There is the expected German engineering veneer, but beneath that lies the hearts of innovators.

A ton of folks really dug the last album (in fact, I got one of those "I'm listening to" things from a label rep a month ago that still mentioned it), and so this puppy has had some serious industry buzz. Indeed, I've gotten a few e-mails on the subject since the release date went up.

All the hype is totally justified. If anything, Transmissions from Uranus is more cohesive, more experimental and more complete than its predecessor. The world of electronic music has expanded significantly in the past couple years, and the progenitors of the band have read and recognized the most important trends, incorporating them into the Hanzel und Gretyl fold.

A bit heavier and with an overall fuller sound, this album simply advances the legend. Beautiful noise, indeed.

If I am to understand the press correctly, there are those who think that Hanzel und Gretyl have appropriated some kind of Nazi image with this album. Well, some of the graphics do borrow from that sort of thing, but it's all obviously a joke. I mean, "Third Reich from the Sun?" Come on.

What isn't a joke is the music, which is pleasantly stuck in that mid-90s metal-industrial complex. Lots of guitars, lots of samples and lots of singing that may or may not be in German.

The thing that always set Hanzel und Gretyl off from the rest of the pack has been this duo's ability to match raw power with a good melodies. There's more power than melody on this disc, but the stuff is still desperately infectious.

Not a whole lot of progression, I suppose, but I've been a fan for a long time, and I like this stuff exactly where it is. Hanzel und Gretyl are way out of whack with the times, and that just makes this sound all the more appealing to my ears. There's always a need for a sledgehammer approach to silliness.

The Happy Scene
Take My Teenage Head 7" EP
(Happy Records)
reviewed in issue #125, 12/23/96

Kinda jangly pop, though the sound is quite sparse. Six songs, none varying much from the norm.

Garage rock that hasn't opened the door yet. The Happy Scene rips off chunks of life and doesn't refine either the music or the lyrics much. And the production has left nearly everything in the background, save the vocals and the occasional distortion-heavy lead lick.

None of it is terribly compelling, either. The musicianship, the songwriting and the production are all sub-par. There is something earnest in the way the band plays, but it still sounds terrible.

Perhaps the Happy Scene should do a little more work behind closed doors.

David Harbuck
9 Songs and a Picture
(self-released)
reviewed in #164, 8/3/98

Simple, heartfelt songs. Built around acoustic guitar, sung with a worldweary voice. Sometimes the songs rely a bit too much on standard construction, but Harbuck has the basics down.

There's an odd sound to the production, a weird whine which can be heard in some of the keyboards and guitar lines. A bit annoying, but it doesn't interfere too much with the songs themselves.

And the songs are basic basic. Like I said earlier, I wish Harbuck would change up his song structure from time to time. After three or four songs, I need a breather. But for a guy who deals in highly emotional songs, Harbuck does a pretty good job of avoiding lyrical cliches. His conclusions may be a little simplistic, but he expresses himself well.

If it weren't for that odd sound shimmy in the midrange, I might really recommend this. Oh well. I've got the new album up next.

This is Harbuck's latest. In the liners he expresses a desire to get as close to the guitar and voice format he uses at his live shows. So the recording process was streamlined.

The songs are more assured, more confident. Harbuck approaches his singing and playing with more abandon, less afraid of making mistakes. And the emphasis on simple sounds helps as well. The focus here is more on his writing, a strong point.

Somewhere in the roots rock-folk vein, Harbuck continues to write sentimental songs that don't get bogged down in excessive goo. He's not exactly poetic, but the songs have an original feel.

A step forward, for sure. If Harbuck continues to work at his writing and playing, I can only imagine what the next disc will sound like.

Scotty Hard
The Return of Kill Dog E
(Wordsound) reviewed in issue #192, 12/6/99

This IS a rap album, but there's more beat experimentation here than on many Wordsound releases (and you know that's saying something). Scotty Hard deals the music and sound while letting a number of guests lay down the raps. And so it is hardly surprising that it's the tuneage that most impresses here.

The tales are from the city, and they're grittier than the stuff Charlton Heston bitches about. And while the raps can get tiresome sometimes, the backing beats never fail to inspire. Hard is a master of sound construction, taking beats and pieces from all over to craft his sonic sculptures.

It is this spectacular use of sound that just utterly overwhelms me. The songs convey a wealth of feeling and emotions even before the vocals hit the stage. The sheer quantity of creativity is stunning, and the quality knocks me out.

Yeah, yeah, I'm eternally knocked out by Wordsound stuff. There's no way around that. Scotty Hard gives me yet another excuse to spread the gospel about these folks. May they never compromise their ideals and artistic principles.

Hard Candy
Sweatin'to the Indies7"
(Lunchbox Records)
reviewed in issue #137, 6/23/97

I'm not sure if it's a manufacturing defect or what, but Hard Candy's attempt at moody jangle pop comes off as spooky.

That weird whine in the background might be keyboards, or it just might be a bad pressing. I can't say, but I like that part. The lyrics are fairly amusing (the title of the seven-inch gives you an idea), but they don't fit the very strange sound of the band.

Whatever. I wish I knew precisely what caused this odd noises currently escaping my turntable, but I suppose I'll just have to accept them. For very ordinary songwriting, this sounds awfully cool.

Lunatic renderings of classic rock riffs with utterly weird vocals draped on top. Imagine Half Japanese playing .38 Special, with an emo overwash. I'm not sure if the graininess of the sound is intentional, but it sure does add to the strangeness within.

I'm rarely at a loss for words, but I don't know what to make of this. The lyrics are pretty goofy, and with song titles like "401(k)", "Jazzercide" and "At Least in Jail", there's no doubting some unorthodox world views are at work here.

It grows on me, somewhat, though I'm always taken aback anew as each song kicks off. The playing itself is rather sloppy, though again, that does help the overall feel. If the intent was to create an almost unlistenable disc.

But I did listen to it, and strange as it is, I enjoyed the experience. I wouldn't recommend it, exactly, though fans of bizarre pop music might get a kick out of it.

Hard Place
Hard Place EP
(Antenna Farm)
reviewed in issue #255, July 2004

A three-piece that plays snarky, culture-snapping music that is most reminiscent of the late 70s output of Supertramp, Cheap Trick and David Bowie. Not exactly stiffs, are they?

Hard Place lays down a hard line. The lyrics are exceptionally sharp and mean. The music is inspired by a very particular time and place--not exactly the sort of thing intended to be all things to all people. Let's be clear about this: It isn't.

Rather, this is music for people who like music. People who understand the history of music and appreciate having their sensibilities vilified. People who can laugh at themselves with vigor. The line may be short, but the assemblage is most worthy.

Hard Skin
Same Meat Different Gravy
(TKO)
reviewed in issue #263, April 2005

While true of punk in general, there's an extremely thin line between generic and transcendent oi. And while I can quantify a couple of things that can flip and album either way for me, the main reaction is simply one of the gut.

These three London boys seem to have "it." The raggedly tuneful melodies, the rising bass lines, the pissed-off energy--all here. And, you know, the songs are kinda funny, in a sad sort of way (one of the tells of great oi, if you ask me).

The sound is exceptional, almost too good for oi. Not that it's anything exceptional, but I can actually hear each instrument and even tell the difference between the various vocals. Yeah, I guess that's some sort of backhanded compliment, but the relatively clean sound is a new wrinkle, one that I kinda like.

Hell, this is great oi in my book. Two fingers to ya if you don't agree.

Marina Hardy
Pink Violin
(Eh?/Public Eyesore)
reviewed in issue #292, December 2007

The liners (as such) call this "collected works from 2006 and 2007." No kidding. Hardy flits about from sound to sound, just about anything as long as it's way, way out there. There are ear-bleed guitar licks, soft-as-snowfall atmospherics, lurching European folk dances and more.

Really. Lots more. This is one album that I like simply for the sheer diversity of sound that resides upon it. It's really amazing how many ideas Hardy has riffled through, not to mention how good she is at expressing those thoughts.

A virtuoso performance, both in the playing and the assembling. Because Hardy played everything herself (of course), she needed to work pretty hard to give this album the cohesive band sound that it has. Give a listen to "Spanish" and imagine one person playing all that in pieces.

I know it's possible. Back in the day, Ray Parker Jr. played all the instruments himself. But the wide range of ideas and the impeccable production on this album are simply amazing. Marina Hardy has a feel for the heart of music that very few people ever come close to experiencing. A mind-blowing disc.

Rich Hardesty
Party Going On
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #205, 9/18/00

Basic roots groove work, with a few side trips. Basic and somewhat faceless. Rich Hardesty throws some interesting punches in the song intros, but from there the music trends toward the generic.

Which is too bad, because the playing is surprisingly expressive and the lyrics often have something incisive to offer. But Hardesty insists on squeezing his voice into a rather small box. On the few occasions when he lets loose, he sounds great.

Most of the time, though, he tries to sing about an octave too high. Which works if you're trying really hard to sound like Dave Matthews rather than yourself.

While the execution is great, the sound is rather sterile and generic besides. Like I said, Hardesty has a few things to say, but his ideas get lost in the backwash of his music.

Harlingtox A.D.
Angel Divine EP
(Laundry Room)
reviewed in issue #126, 1/13/97

A 1990 set of tunes recorded by a bad that barely existed (read the liners for the mostly tedious story). Dave Grohl (yes, THE Dave Grohl) played bass and Laundry Room head honcho Barret Jones drummed. A guy named Bruce Merkle sang, and his vocals are the most interesting part of the band. Oh, if you're curious, a guy named Tos played guitar.

Boring, overbearing and mostly annoying. There's some sort of musical history thing going on, particularly since a lot of folks seem to think the Foo Fighters (whose first album Jones produced) are actually good. But as something to actually play and enjoy, well, I wouldn't recommend it.

Sometimes these tapes are best left in the box.

Harmless
Protect Us From Evil
(Hell Yeah!)
reviewed in issue #29, 2/28/93

Drums, bass, keyboards (mostly piano) and these wild saxophone sounds. It ain't Christian, Edna. It sure ain't normal.

And thank God for small favors, as this is a truly fun album to imbibe. Completely impossible to describe, except that saxman Martin Fierro seems to have taken lessons from John Zorn and Ornette Coleman. Some of the sounds he creates...

The style seems to revolve around some twisted rockabilly groove, but then they wander out into uncharted territory. With stunning results. You may not listen to an album this strange again this year.

From what dark pit of hell this crawled I shall never know, but I will endeavor to keep it safe and unvanquished forever more.

Harm's Way
Industrial Vol. I
(demo)
reviewed in issue #38, 8/31/93

The vocals are mixed great, but the rest of the music is buried beneath. And I like what I hear of the music. One nice take on the doom motif and a couple of upbeat numbers. All impressive. Better production should really help out their sound.

Brady Harris
Good Luck Stranger
(self-released) reviewed in issue #192, 12/6/99

Roots rock with just a bit of a moody country tinge to the sound. Reminds me a little of Chris Cacavas in the way that the songs always seem to trend darker and darker. Oh, there's also something about the ultra-sharp songwriting, too. Harris does know what he's doing.

For example, even without the note in the liners, it's obvious that "Anthrax Blues" is a tribute to Johnny Cash. The piece perfectly imitates Cash's walking blues style without copping anything overtly. Harris certainly knows his way around a song.

And he's not too bad with the playing and producing, either. Harris has all the tools necessary for a wondrous career in music. All he needs is for a few folks with cash to pay attention.

One of the finest albums I've heard this year. I could run through a list of superlatives, but really, that won't serve any purpose. This music is timeless. I don't think I can say much more than that.

Hank Harris
Here
(Sunbunny)
reviewed in issue #220, 8/13/01

Going back to the 70s. With some new agey musings (in the lyrics, not the music) and gentle rock steady grooves. All put together with some seriously fine craft.

Hank Harris sure does know how to write tight songs. A little too tight, certainly when he's borrowing some of the reggae. Part of reggae's charm is the way it plays with pop song construction, elongating and condensing certain phrases as is necessary to communicate a message in the proper style.

For what he's doing, though, the sound is good. Bright, happy and ultra clean. This really focuses attention on Harris' well-considered songwriting, and that's his strong point.

And indeed, there is much of this album that simply falls into the well-made soft rock category. A little cheesy, but generally not egregiously so. Kinda like Paul Simon and 70s Billy Joel rolled together. The good sides of both. Feel good sides, in any case.

Electronic pop with slightly dusky vocals. Harris likes to shift gears as often as possible, but his voice provides all the continuity that's necessary. Something of a throwback to when people actually gave a shit about songs, and that is a good thing.

Michael Harris
Ego Decimation Profile
(Leviathan)
reviewed in issue #119, 9/23/96

Instrumental guitar stuff for old Maiden fans. Not a bad idea at all.

No, no, Harris wasn't in the band (that's Steve, no relation), but he sticks to a classical style of guitar that Maiden and a ton of their European cohorts propounded back in the early 80s. Aggressive, melodic and keyboard-laden at times.

Harris has pumped his lead tracks so high that when he settles into a song those lines sound a lot like Joe Satriani. But the rhythm work is really nice. I just wish it was a bit higher in the mix.

I could also do without the keyboard excesses. When he goes overboard, Harris really has a knack for going nuts. But luckily, most of the time the focus is on the songs themselves, which can more than stand on their own. With a little work, he could really do something.

Brian Hartzog
The Smashing of Pictures
(ZOG Sound)
reviewed in issue #92, 11/20/95

Wending from soft faux-soul to serious guitar-renching anthems (all songs by and all instruments performed by Brian Hartzog), all with a serious Hendrix affectation.

Sound like anyone you know?

A damned ambitious sounding album, one that doesn't fit into any easily-defined slot. This bodes well for Hartzog's future. The guy is obviously creative and able to express himself in many different ways.

Not that the album is perfect or anything. The Hendrix connection is a bit too obvious much of the time, and Hartzog has a lot of the pretension of (the onetime) Prince without any of the catalog to back it up. But this is a lot of fun to groove on, if you're tired of listening to the same old thing all the time. Hartzog is definitely good enough to get somewhere.

Harvest Theory
From the Back 7"
(Springbox)
reviewed in issue #62, 9/15/94

Nice pop-tinged noise, a la Poster Children or Die Monster Die. Except that the dynamic ranges are much more subdued, with things flowing along much more smoothly. I kinda like that.

The agnst and energy are just as apparent, but the band does not see fit to overwhelm listeners with it's message. Apparently the words are perfectly suited to that purpose.

Don't get me wrong; this stuff is good and crunchy with plenty of hollering. But the songs stay within certain restraints, and it works very well.

Harvest Theory posits a view of American life that is pretty much in line with general punk doctrine (an oxymoron to be sure) and wonderfully out of line with all the bastards running for president.

You'll note that, for the record, I'm calling my former employer a bastard. And I'll probably vote for him again, anyway. I'd just like to put my hypocrisy front and center. Thank you.

Anyway, the Harvest Theory of song construction brings in a sweeping punk sound (lots of noise) and peppers it with some grunge and Chi-core leanings. Mix that with fertile imaginations, and you get a sound that is pretty much definable as Harvest Theory. Pleasantly anthemic, but not annoyingly so.

The lyrics are stunning, the presentation and production stellar. This debut is one of those real important ones. Perhaps only a few of us will notice now, but if everything falls into place (and the folks keep this level of achievement up), Harvest Theory will be a name to be reckoned with one of these days.

Mick Harvey
Pink Elephants
(Mute)
reviewed in issue #150, 12/29/97

A follow-up album to Intoxicated Man, whereby Harvey is translating the songs of Serge Gainsbourg. If you don't know Gainsbourg, well, that's because in America we generally don't pay much attention to French music. Trust me, this you want to hear.

Harvey recreates Gainbourg's cafe jazz pop style, infusing that moods with a style all his own. As my seventh-grade French has been decaying ever since, I can't really comment on the quality of the translations, though the lyrics are quite arresting, which I assume echoes the originals well enough.

As the best jazz artists do, Harvey has taken a set of classic songs and made them his own. The method may seem a bit obsessive, but it's impossible to quibble with the result. This set is much more eclectic than Intoxicated Man, and while it is not quite so single-minded in its pursuit of the Gainsbourg ideal, I guess, I think this works at least as well.

Ambitious, certainly. And Pink Elephants works. Completely satisfying, dropping any listener into a world that sounds familiar, but is a bit strange to the touch. Always good to find new bearings.

Perhaps best known for his long-time association with Nick Cave, Mick Harvey has produced or performed on a lot of your favorite albums (check the liners closely, folks). He gets around, but only infrequently records himself.

This album does have a bit of the menacing quality of some of the better Bad Seeds efforts, but Harvey's voice is at once generic and powerful. It's not hard to forget, but Harvey has a delivery that can stop a song cold.

The songs here are his and those of some of the more eclectic writers of decades past (Lee Hazelwood, Tim Buckley, etc.). The sound is seamless, with each piece seemingly flowing into the next. The seduction is almost impossible to resist.

And then all of a sudden you're completely defenseless, and you get whacked. Harvey is a heartless artist. He takes no prisoners, even as he creates some of the most gorgeous songs around. A true marvel.

Harvey Danger
Where Have All the Merrymakers Gone?
(London/Slash)
reviewed in issue #165, 8/17/98

There's this song on the radio. I don't know what it's called, I don't know who it's by, but there's a line that goes, "I'm not sick, but I'm not well." And I can't get the fucking song out of my head.

I keep telling myself to put in a tape or change the station or something, but something has it's hooks in me and I can't move. I can't do anything except listen to this fucking song. And then I'm at work and the fucking song will not leave my head. I beg my co-workers to rasp nostalgiac about those stupid 70s bands they love so much --just so I can get this fucking song out of my head.

But to no avail. No mention of America can get this goddamn piece of radio candy out of my addled brain. And then I get the fucking CD in the mail. Christ.

-- Matt Worley

Hate Dept.
Meat Your Maker
(21st Circuitry)
reviewed in issue #62, 9/15/94

As aggressive industrial goes, this is pretty wimpy musically. The beats often sound like they came off a Casio sampler, and the guitars are never allowed to really dominate. Siebold's vocals are kinda nasty, but not really quite up to the snide and crude level that is expected.

That said, there is much more texture underlying everything than the current trend-setters have. There is no pretense of a "band", and I can't really detect any desire to "rock out". So what is this, anyway?

Well, a hybrid of club techno and the more aggressive industrial dance music, I suppose. With a few touches of the ambient and other electronic genres. In other words, you won't get bored.

Fairly experimental in the way things are mixed, Hate Dept.'s music resists all attempts to be classified. Fine by me.

The 21st Circuitry album Meat Your Maker was pretty damned fine (I'm still pulling that one for the occasional social spin), and the four songs here keep up the techno-industrial vision promulgated before.

Each song has a distinctly different feel than the others (obviously a good sign), from hard and heavy ("New Power (Suck Dry)") to mellow and introspective (the next track, "Omnipresent"). Yes, four tracks with plenty to love.

I'd love to keep writing, but I don't know what to say. Praise praise praise. I wait on bended knee for the next full-length effort. Hate Dept. is one of my favorite bands. I think I've run out of all the possible cheesy things I could squeeze from my pen. Find and enjoy this disc.

The second full-length from one of the more versatile industrial dance acts around. Hate Dept. has always more than satisfied, and Omnipresent keeps that string going.

Capable of shifting moods as well as anyone in the game, Siebold and Co. are simply masters of this domain. While you'll have to hit the recent EP to find the "title track" of this album, you do get a reprise of "New Power" from that release.

Perhaps the band's most important attribute is its ability to combine the catchy with the intense without creating wanky anthems. These songs tear at your soul, and still you want to rush the dance floor.

This album is a bomb. Who knows what will be left once it has been properly detonated. We are all powerless to resist the charms of Hate Dept.

The album track version, two other renditions of "New Power", and one take on a song called "Countergrowth" thrown in for good measure.

The Uberzone remix doesn't do much for the song except make it longer. It's alright, but unnecessary. On the other hand, the Amanda remix (by Amanda Jones) fucks with the beats nicely and adds a cool techno sheen to the proceedings. Classy work, and a nice new vision of the song.

"Countergrowth" zips through all sorts of electronic music ideas, finally settling on something that sounds like a distorted early New Order. A pretty cool song that is certainly good enough to have made it on the recent album or EP.

Two out of three ain't bad, and Hate Dept. always makes things interesting. Probably something just for the avid fans, but that fits me well.

Hate Head
Overrun
(Red Eye)
reviewed in issue #53, 4/30/94

The Soundgarden sound has invaded San Diego with a fury. But, thankfully, the vocals counter the anthemic riffs with a reedy delivery. Sounds cool, believe it or not.

Hate Head does need to find its own sound in the mishmash of grunge conventions it has taken on, but there's time. I can hear moments of creativity exploding through the attack, and with enough encouragement this could be a great band.

You can dig through for some cool tunes to play. Beats most of the grungoid records I've heard lately.

The Hatepinks
Plastic Bag Ambitions
(TKO)
reviewed in issue #267, August 2005

This might well be described as the Epoxies on testosterone. But the Hatepinks aren't so much a new wave punk explosion as simply guys who like straight 4 timekeeping and minimalist hooks. Yes, I know, that does sound a lot like new wave. Give me a break. It's been a long month...

Nonetheless, I'd say these guys are as much DK as Buzzcocks--or maybe a fascinating conflagration of the two. Throw in a few Ramones and Devo references, and you probably have as good a picture as I can provide.

The sound is, of course, utterly modern, filling out all the cracks. There's nowhere to hide a damn thing, and that does color the overall sound. There's just that much less menace when the edge is taken off a buzzsaw riff.

Not that I'm complaining. This album is speedy, off-kilter fun, with plenty of kick in the engine. Just enough attitude to produce a ragged sneer. Which is, indeed, just about right.

Greg Hatza Organization
Greg Hatza Organization
(Palmetto Jazz)
reviewed in issue #78, 6/15/95

Hatza plays the Hammond B-3, and his Organization plays just on the jazz side of Booker T. and the MGs.

The comparisons are inevitable, but I'll try to sidestep them. After all, where Booker T. and the MGs were riffing through the pop standards of the day (creating a few along the way), Hatza and company flip through five bebop and big band standards, along with six Hatza compositions which don't sound out of place at all.

Sure, the intricacies of Gillespie and Coltrane are much easier accomplished on an organ, but Jim Snidero on alto and Major Boyd on soprano sax also get much of the spotlight. While you might accuse the band of turning classics into easy listening (and that thought gains creedence with the inclusion of a rendition of "Georgia on My Mind"), the playing is quite inspired and not at all timid. Yeah, a B-3 just screams "mellow!", but once past that roadblock, the musicianship can be appreciated for its own merits.

I actually prefer the originals to the arrangements of the standards. Hatza has a nice feel for the limits and possibilities of his instrument, and he has a solid band to help him push the envelope.

The second Hatza album I've had the privilege of hearing in the past year, and once again I stand impressed.

First, as Hatza's instrument is the Hammond B-3 organ, there is a bit of that lounge quality lying around. But the three sidemen are quite competent and not willing to just sleepwalk through songs. Hatza wrote all but one of the songs (a good sign), and he allows his mates to shine in nearly every song.

And while admittedly mellow, this isn't slow or boring music. It's quite fair to say that the Organization really cooks, ripping through slower and up-tempo pieces with verve and confidence. Hatza knows how to write songs that complement not only his playing but the skills of his band, as well.

The Organization is a perfect example of how mellow jazz doesn't have to degenerate into sappy and insipid crap. Wonderful playing, and a very nice work.

His third album with the Organization, Greg Hatza dips even deeper into the soul, r&b and blues bags, at times dropping all pretense at jazz. Thick with horns and Hatza's trademark Hammond B-3, these songs bring Hatza almost all the way back to the old days of the swinging organ.

There are a few cheesy moments. The one cover is of "Change the World", a song which is a bit too light to sustain over six minutes of interpretation. This is a mood album, and that mood is easygoing. Current lounge trendoids would probably groove well to this, but don't let that scare you. This is good stuff.

When the Hammond B-3 is used well, it flavors and colors the music. Hatza brings all of his players together and occasionally steps out on his own. He has the consummate bandleader's touch and has arranged these songs very well.

Quality work, as ever. The organ is enchanting, and the rest is pretty damned good, too. Light jazz that isn't lite jazz.

!Havana Blast!
!Havana Blast!
(CM Records)
reviewed in issue #83, 8/21/95

Guitar-driven electro-pop, reminiscent of the finer days of Was (Not Was).

Well, the guitars are heavier, but W(NW) did a song with Ozzy, and HB covers "War Pigs", so perhaps there is an odd connection somewhere.

The beats rarely vary from a slow hypnotic pulse, but !Havana Blast! manages to drop enough cool sounds into the mix that you don't really notice all that much.

I'm having a hard time describing this, but I sure do like it. The sound is often eerie and disjointed, but the pop soul is pure. Yep, pretty damned cool.

Havergal
Lungs for the Race
(Secretly Canadian)
reviewed in issue #213, 3/12/01

No matter what Havergal does, the song always ends up sounding melancholy. Maybe it's the keys of the songs. Maybe it's the guitar sound. Or maybe it's lines like "I'm in love with mother/Wish I had eyes for another."

That's not fair, because the song in question there is using metaphor. Sort of. Anyway, I think you might get at what I'm saying here. This band deals from the bottom of the deck. Gleefully.

The songs are sometimes sad, but mostly creepy or almost assaultive with irony. The kind of thing a critic friend of mine calls "indie hipster rock." Of course, he kinda likes the stuff, too.

If there's one thing I can impart about Havergal, it's that the band constantly surprises. Yes, it sets a mood. Yes, it goes for the jugular. But the way it does these things, well, that's where the unexpected occurs. Listen until the last beat fades.

Hawk
Rock N Roll
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #288, August 2007

Hawk sticks to mid-tempo rockers (so, um, 80s rock and roll). That does lend a certain sameness to some of these songs. On the other hand, if you ever wondered what Loverboy might have done if it hadn't discovered the power ballad, then this album might tell you.

Probably not the reference these boys would like, but this reminds me a lot of that first Loverboy album. Lean, stripped down rock and roll that never gets out of line. Can that actually be rock and roll? Yeah, I think so.

The production gives the guitars just enough oomph to carry the day. Otherwise, the mix is fairly spartan, letting the songs themselves do most of the work.

And they do. The lyrics entice a few wry smiles, but the real pleasure here is the simple nature of the music. There's nothing complicated in the writing, and Hawk doesn't hide behind studio tricks. The boys just play rock and roll. Or rock n roll. Whatever.

Dale Hawkins
Wildcat Tamer
(Mystic-Lightyear/WEA)
reviewed in issue #180, 4/12/99

Dale Hawkins is probably best known as one of the guys who wrote "Susie Q" . A rockabilly boogier from way, way back when, Hawkins proves on this disc that he's still got the chops and something to say.

There is, of course, a version of "Susie Q", but simply as an appendix. Instead, Hawkins' recent compositions are featured, and he and his band rip through them with some fervor.

The sound is dated. The quality of the recording is modern, but the mix recreates rather faithfully the sound of an early Creedence, a swampy rockabilly feel. Lots of air between the sounds, plenty of room to howl. And for Hawkins, he takes every inch given to him. This sort of production allows for maximum emotional range, and Hawkins takes advantage.

A lot of these "reclamation" projects are just that, albums to give an old, deserving rocker some bucks and a nice little album. This one, however, gives a still-vital voice a megaphone. Really, really fine, in a way that gets me moving.

Ted Hawkins
The Final Tour
(Evidence)
reviewed in issue #151, 1/19/98

There's an interesting tale in the liners about how Hawkins's final studio album came to be recorded for Geffen Records, but the real story here is Hawkins's wonderful voice.

He brings a light, bluesy rasp to pop songs that would have fit in perfectly with the early days of rock and roll (and some of his selections are indeed from that time).
The first 16 tracks of this disc are from a show at McCabe's in Santa Monica, near his home. Just Hawkins and his guitar, an addictive combo. A lot of the songs are from The Next Hundred Years, his Geffen album (the performances on this disc are taken from that tour, which turned out to be his last).

Years of performing in Venice Beach honed his craft, sharpening his storytelling skill to a mesmerizing level. Each song helps tell another chapter of his life, which makes this album a fitting memorial. Very few performers can shine with just a voice and guitar, but Hawkins takes the spare surroundings and creates an entire universe. A wonderfully moving set.

Hayden
Everything I Long For
(Hardwood-Sonic Unyon)
reviewed in issue #105, 4/8/96

One guy who plays all the instruments, but mostly sticks with acoustic guitar and the odd harmonica bit. Kinda like a Canadian Neil Young. Um, wait a minute...

I know, I know, bad joke. And Hayden (Desser, though he goes by just the one name) sounds a lot more like Alice in Chains (the mellow side) than Neil Young any day. In fact, Hayden's songs are merely acoustic (and somewhat more atmospheric) takes on the whole grunge songwriting ideal. Not a terrible idea, reasonably well executed.

And for some reason he's a big rage in Canada (and signed to Geffen for future U.S. releases). The only thing I can think of to explain such a predicament is that he takes after the character in "Airheads" who pronounces himself average enough to write really big hit songs.

I get it, but I just don't think Hayden is all that exceptional. Perhaps that explains the appeal. Some of the songs are quite nice, but many are mostly meandering wails about silly things. Still, I figure tons of people will go apeshit. I mean, most people in the U.S. think Alice in Chains are about as talented as musicians come these days. And Hayden certainly has folks like them beat. Easily.

Haywood/Mariner Nine
split 7"
(Crank!)
reviewed in issue #101, 3/4/96

I had the Haywood track ("Trophy Case") on the 33 1/3 like it said, and it sounded terrible. I think it's supposed to be 45. At that speed, the band is a nice representation of what folks are calling emo-core (or what I just like to call pop). Kinda minimalist as that sort of thing goes, a stripped and slowed-down version of what the Treepeople were so good at.

The song doesn't really go anywhere, but it's pretty cool where it stands.

And the Mariner Nine actually sounds normal at 45, so I'd advise playing it there. Two songs, "Rocket" and "Orpding" (don't ask me what that second one means). "Rocket" has more of an anthemic pop thing going on (you could compare to Superchunk, but this is much more mellow), still rather cool. "Orpding" has a odd voiceover, with sloppier music backing. It's not really long enough to worry about

None of these songs are really great, but all three have a nice, understated appeal. The two songs ("Orpding" is about like its title) would be great tracks on a cool album, but don't quite have the presence to kick this 7" over the top. Still, some fine work.

Haymarket Riot
Haymarket Riot EP
(Divot)
reviewed in issue #203, 8/7/00

Taking a good piece of the Jesus Lizard's groove 'n' grind and then texturing that with strident punk chords and almost prog guitar licks, Haymarket Riot throttles its way through five songs that rather defy categorization.

Certainly Jawbox comes to mind, though. Haymarket Riot is at once more precise and more raucous than the erstwhile D.C. stalwarts, but there's more than a thread connecting them.

Five songs full of power and grace. There is, most definitely, something going on here.

Four blistering songs. Haymarket Riot delivers its emo punch with full force. The power and intensity of the sound, however, cannot take away from the textured arrangements and intelligent lyrics.

Indeed, the band's technical prowess is exceeded only by its ability to write and play utterly involving songs. There are a lot more sideways glances here than most emo types make. No matter. These songs stick together like glue.

A short burst of brilliance. I know, I've said nice things about these boys before, and I'm sure I will again. This too-short set is more than worthy.

Finally, a full-length from these guys. I've long admired the way these guys integrate technical playing with the passion of emo. This disc only cements that appreciation.

Every little bit of this album was plotted in advance. And yet the sound is fresh and exciting. Haymarket Riot may know precisely what it's doing at every moment, but that doesn't mean the guys aren't able to rare back and rock when they want to.

It's those seeming contradictions that really give Haymarket Riots's music the energy it has. Of course, in reality there's no need for conflict between precise playing and emotion. It just usually works out that way. Not so here.

This album is the goods. Everything I hoped for and more. The sound is both raucous and refined. The writing is spot on. And the result is sheer bliss.

Recorded by Albini, produced by Congleton, released on two of the more eclectic labels in the decidedly exapnsive Chicago universe. That's a pretty cool picture, right? Start with some strident riffage and then add plenty of noise and a certain strange Naked Raygun wash and you get another fine album from these boys.

Haze
Tom Dooley
(Mutiny-Futurist)
reviewed in issue #91, 11/6/95

Haze is the name of the singer and the name of the band. Just so you know.

And the band takes its fuzz-heavy space sound from the likes of the Floyd, Hawkwind and Bowie. Haze refuses to sing most of the time, preferring to whisper-squeak her vocals. God, is that really annoying.

The title track, a re-working of the old folk tune, totally twists the whole point of the song all around. Honestly, I liked the message of the original better.

These folk make all of this very dramatic and demand a lot of attention, but for no good reason. The music only occasionally gets interesting, and Haze herself seems far too self-absorbed to really sing a song in an interesting way. Final analysis: pitch in the wank pile.

She has tamed some of her self-indulgent excesses and trimmed the music down to the glam-industrial core which has worked so well of late for Marilyn Manson. And, you know, I kinda like it. A huge improvement over the EP I heard three years ago.

There still are the egregiously overdramatic moments, bits which even the most self-absorbed goth band would shy away from. Haze's often tortured voice gets more grating the more she "emotes". Honestly, it sounds horribly contrived.

But I like the new, simpler musical direction. Idiosyncrasies are nice, but it's much better when you've got only one or two per song. A pile of them just means your music is a jumbled mess. Haze is centered, and this album succeeds because of that focus.

I'm not convinced this stuff is really all that great. But at least I can listen to it now and again. A huge improvement.

Lee Hazlewood
Cake or Death
(Ever)
reviewed in issue #282, February 2007

Perhaps best known in the popular culture as the writer of "These Boots Are Made for Walking," Lee Hazlewood has written some of the strangest and most compelling pop songs of our (and, to be more accurate, our parents's) times.

So there's some new, some old and a lot of amusement. Take, for example, the vocals on "Some Velvet Morning" by his granddaughter Phaedra. The treatment here is impressive, but it's almost overshadowed by the meta implications therein. Almost.

Hazlewood's strength has always been his lyrics, though the lost-in-the-60s sound of his music has a certain appeal these days. There's a reason Firewater did more than one Hazlewood song on its album of covers, Songs We Should Have Written. And rather than drench these songs in the excess of the time, Hazlewood restrains his hand. These are tasteful, if sometimes surprising, arrangements.

He says this is his last album, and I figure he ought to be believed. I mean, it's not like he can make millions by staging a series of "final curtain" tours. If nothing else, this taste of his career (including some really nice new tunes) might well inspire younger listeners who first encountered his songs through the likes of Sonic Youth and Beck to scratch through record stores to find some other Hazlewood nuggets. And hey, if it is his last, Hazlewood has done good. Nice to know that some old men don't go softly.

Peter Head and the Pitchfork Militia
Big Beef Bonanza
(Wagon Train)
reviewed in issue #182, 5/17/99

Kinda like if Alice Donut calmed down a bit and decided to play vaguely country music. Peter Head doesn't quite have the nasal wail down, but his voice can get rather grating nonetheless. In all, highly enjoyable.

I mean, who wouldn't enjoy a songs with choruses like "Pennsylvania fuckin' blows!" and "I'm a trucker, motherfucker!". I think you get the idea. This isn't complicated, and it's not supposed to be.

The band is able to shift gears from time to time, and that keeps the proceedings from getting truly puerile. Y'know, considering how silly all of this is, there's an unexpected level of sophistication here.

Well, kinda. To be honest, this isn't exactly subtle fare. And there's no need for that, anyway. Slice me another big slab of beef, man!

Headcleaner
Pigment of Imagination
(Big Deal-Paradigm)
reviewed in issue #149, 12/8/97

Lean music that follows pop construction but is more noise than anything. The guitars are reduced to mere instruments of rhythm, and even the vocals are basically atonal.

A lighter version of Kepone or Glazed Baby. Headcleaner isn't much for excess, and it certainly doesn't have much of an appreciation for hooks. Still, the fuzz and throb do come together for some great grooves.

An odd sound for a band which leads its album off with a track titled "Plimsoul". Of course, it's not a reference to the band. At least, I don't think it is.

In the end, there just wasn't enough to get me overly excited. Headcleaner deals in a very limited sort of sound, and even that isn't explored much at all. The songs, unfortunately, tend to end up in the same area. The thing that bugs me most is that a couple of my favorite bands have this same basic sound, but they make it sing. Headcleaner stays pedestrian.

Headcrash
Overdose of Tradition
(Discovery)
reviewed in Money Whore issue #6, 7/1/96

German guys trying out the whole metal-rap-industrial trip. For once, though, German engineering fails.

The sound is dreadfully wimpy, like the guys are afraid of the guitars that hide in the background. The lyrics are pleasantly anti-social, but the whole package rarely gets above Hard Corps territory, much less approaching (obvious influence) Beastie Boys territory.

I agree with some of the sentiments expressed here, and I like it when people get political. But Headcrash is simply too boring musically, and the gang vocal rap style does not get me off. And you can't crank this up, because all of the jock-rock riffage is buried beneath.

I'd like to know what the intent was here. The disc sure ain't telling.

Headrush
Urrbin Ledjinz
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #216, 5/14/01

A little drum 'n' bass, a little jungle, a little metal, a glam ballad fragment (really) and a lot of experimentation. Headrush surfs along some of the more successful of the recent electronic dance music trends, adding in some guitar and samples to fill out the sound. The result? An otherworldly experience.

There's just no way to completely explain what's going on here. Headrush has borrowed from so many corners (the vocals range from dancehall raps to metal screeches) that there's no way to describe this stuff in full detail.

So I'll just say the ferment is most impressive. Just when I think I'm settling in, another sound, another side trip comes along. Headrush refuses to sit still, and yet throughout most of this album whatever noise escapes my speakers could reasonably be identified as a Headrush sound.

That's what's most impressive, I guess. Even with this kitchen sink collage approach to songwriting, Headrush remains consistent in its goal to propagate quality music. Whatever the sound, the vitality runs high. Most invigorating.

The Heads
Relaxing With...
(Headhunter-Cargo)
reviewed in issue #108, 5/6/96

A nicely revved-up version of acid rock coming out of London. With some cool harmonica work, to boot.

God knows, the MC5 have been used before, but not necessarily to such a decent effect. The Heads have the whole "cool bass" concept down flat, and the astonishingly lo-fi production merely adds to the mystique.

Singer Simon Price growls his vocals, a la Scott McCloud of Girls Against Boys, and that also updates the idea quite nicely. And actually, the way the songs roll on and on makes this almost as appealing as GvsB at times.

Post-punk acid rock tripmeister heroes. Well, all I can say is that it works for me. There is something hypnotic in the rhythm section, and when that happens, all I can say is watch out. If the Heads get under your skin, they may never leave.

Headstrong
Headstrong
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #158, 5/4/98

The great southern boogie version of grindcore. You know, Agony Column and the like. Songs that move, vocals of concrete, guitars of doom. I kinda wish Headstrong sounded like it had more of a sense of humor, but I can't have everything.

Oh, and the riffage is inspired. The sound is slightly sludgy, and that helps to mute the guitars just enough to take off a shrill edge. You know, I can also hear early Pantera (Cowboys from Hell-era, a fine period in my book) limping about, though Headstrong bloodies a lot more brains.

Throbbing toward some imagined apocalypse, Headstrong just doesn't let up from the attack. Okay, so the sound isn't exactly in vogue these days. It still works for me.

And if Headstrong wants to continue brutalizing the world, well, that's just fine by me.

Eloise Klein Healy
Artemis in Echo Park/The Women's Studies Chronicles
(New Alliance)
reviewed in issue #48, 2/14/94

One of my favorite things to do as a dj was to play spoken word stuff over cool instrumentals, from Pell Mell to Branford Marsalis to the Shadowy Men. New Alliance has put together a great series of spoken word sets, some with and some without background music.

This one is without, but the words are strong enough to do without accompaniment. Healy's physical voice is nothing special, but her mind's voice spins circles and circles of music in my mind as I try to grip her thought.

Not highbrow, but in their accessibility, her words speak to people who might not otherwise hear.

The Heartdrops
East Side Drive
(Melted)
reviewed in issue #184, 7/5/99

A bit poppier and less punk than yer average Melted release, but damn, the quality and infectious nature are at least up to code. As soon as the first backbeat hit my ears, I was ready to jump around the room in joyous abandon.

No, really. These boys have such a fine fuzz-pop attack it's impossible to sit down when it's rolling. My disc had a bit of a manufacturing defect (something scratched out a piece of the second track), and when that hit I about freaked. Had to just skip to the next song. Bummed, but once "Lolita" kicked in, I was happy.

You know, people use the phrase "hi-octane" a lot. I don't go there very often, but hell, if there was a band that deserved such an appellation, the Heartdrops are it. Damn, man, this stuff blasts out a form of energy that even Stephen Hawking couldn't describe.

Yeah, I had a good time. A great time. Some truly fine songs and more than enough sonic aggression to get anyone through the night. Pop heaven is the next stop.

Heatmiser
Stray 7"
(Cavity Search)
reviewed in issue #31, 3/31/93

While the album has its unfortunate occasional Nirvana-like moments, this single highlights the punkier side of their musings. There're still these real familiar bass lines, but I can overlook that if the songs are this fun.

"Stray" and "Can't Be Touched" are on the new album ("Wake" isn't, and I like that one best), and the versions here are far superior. This is a great disc.

Even though they're from Portland (Ore.), they sound like they wish they were from the upper great northwest. Nice pop melodies run through impossibly fuzzed-out guitars and bass, with a kinda whiny, kinda moaning vocal style.

Rip-off is not the right word, because there are so many bands who sound like this these days you can't pick out who did it first (I'm pretty sure it goes back to a pleasant young man caught with his FFA first prize ewe).
This is also damned catchy, which is not something you can say about most of those "Neer-vay-nuh" wannabes. And the songs themselves are completely original.

More than enough to light up your shift; And this way you don't have to play a damn Seattle band to get the same effect.

Sure the punk is still poppy, but aggression is the order of the day. These guys have a need for sonic assault.

A taste of the boys before their second album comes out in the fall, Heatmiser are dead on target this time out. Miss at your own peril.

Most folks I know in the state of Washington swear by Heatmiser. Nice guys, good band. It's just the occasional Nirvana-esque tune that has always bugged me.

Not any more. The fast songs have gotten faster and leaner, the slower ones slower and less melodramatic. I still don't think the boys know exactly what they want to sound like, but there are so many fine things to choose from, I'm not complaining.

Yes, at the base is a pop-punk sensibility, but Heatmiser has progressed past that potential dead end and moved into some more experimental areas, particularly the production. Everything here is so clean and lean, no bombast whatsoever. It sounds great.

Certainly their finest output yet, and Heatmiser hasn't had a bad release. Now, if only the world would notice.

Heaven 17
Bigger than America
(Cleopatra)
reviewed in issue #151, 1/19/98

Another 80s outfit back to haunt my aging adolescence. I was never very familiar with Heaven 17, though I did hear them a few times on the old "Rock over London" show. And this disc sounds just like I remember.

Well, the drum machines are more precise, but the vocal stylings are dead up new wave. A lot like old OMD, if that helps you. Wow. I would have loved this stuff 15 years ago.

And a lot of Brits did. Heaven 17 was monstrously huge for a moment, and then nothing. Until this. It's perfect timing, of course, though as Kiss found out, everyone wanted the old records and ignored the new ones. I'm not sure what the market for new new wave is, but ask folks like the reformed Echo and the Bunnymen and I think you'll get a rather negative answer.

This is complete retro. There's been little evolution in songwriting or lyrical ideas. But if you want to hear some cool 80s stuff that rings unfamiliar in your ears (new nostalgia, if you will), perhaps this will suffice.

Thee Heavenly Music Association
Shaping the Invisible
(Rehash)
reviewed in issue #263, April 2005

By and large the product of Dave Hillis and Helen Storer, Thee Heavenly Music Association is a collection of musical ideas run through a few processors and then edited into a semi-coherent shape.

Actually, some of these songs are really songs. Really good songs. And even the more conceptual pieces here are quite striking. Imagine Black Box Recorder on a bad trip--but with guitars by Anton Fier. I'm not exactly sure how Hillis and Storer put together live shows, but apparently they do. I'd pay to hear that.

Maybe all the experimentation that went into the recording is simply distilled into a straight retelling. I doubt it, though. Anyone willing to put together an album this adventurous wouldn't--make that couldn't--do something so insipid.

And in case the album doesn't warp your musical sensibilities enough, there's a cover of Kate Bush's one and only U.S. "hit." Oh, don't worry. This is no ape job. It's a surprising reimagining of the piece, surprising mostly in its delicacy. Thee Heavenly Music Association knows how to make a mark.

Heavy Vegetable
A Bunch of Stuff 7"
(The Way Out Sound)
reviewed in issue #48, 2/14/94

Nicely messy pop music, with a lot of noise and almost chanted vocals. Everything is going nowhere, and somehow it all begins to make sense. And then the needle lifts up.

The production is spotty, and I'm pretty sure it's intended that way. I'm not exactly sure what the artistic statement is, but at least the folks are trying for something. I'm listening...

An almost-disturbing sing-song quality pervades throughout, but for some reason these folks are funnier and much more interesting than, say, Billy Goat or Poi Dog Pondering.

Well, Heavy Vegetable has the crucial knack of figuring out when the joke is getting old. And not all of these songs are dumb jokes. More than a few are nicely crafted straight pop tunes with relevant lyrics.

If you don't like one song, don't worry; another will start up in a minute or so. But even if most of the tracks come in under two minutes, they still feel complete.

With everything on course for failure, Heavy Vegetable managed to crank out a good album. No small feat, that.

"Twenty-eight more songs" says the back cover. And in only 45 minutes. Pretty impressive.

And what a variety. Heavy Vegetable proves itself capable of running rampant over just about any pop style you can name, including a wondrously anarchic vision of the old Alan Parsons Project sound on "Cotton Swab" (no, really).

As members of the nationally acclaimed (even here) Encinitas (near San Diego) scene, Heavy Vegetable proves to be bored with anything normal. The tunes are zany and wide ranging, with plenty for anyone to dig. God knows how these folks remember which songs are which for the live shows (45 songs from two albums might mess with the memory), but the word is that a show is not to be missed.

Just in case HV isn't in your neighborhood this weekend, pick up the disc. You will like it.

Hedgehog
You Happy Face
(Headhunter-Cargo)
reviewed in issue #6, 1/31/92

Well-orchestrated punk-funk. What I mean is these guys have the soaring vocalization of other "post-metal" (I really don't like that term) bands channeled into a basic heavy funk sound. Sorta like if the Red Hots ran into Last Crack and metamorphosed.

It's all rather appealing; the bass stays away from the cliche bounce of lots of funk and actually has character. Nice riffs, too. The vocals stride the line between hard core and melody very nicely, without giving way to either.

Tom Hedrick
As If!
(Freedom of Speech)
reviewed in issue #238, February 2003

Loopy little pop ditties that always play by the rules. Perhaps this sounds dull to you, but Tom Hedrick manages to infuse each song with a wacky (and decidedly nerdy) sense of humor.

For example, the first line of the title track is "If I were a Vulcan..." "Little Saturn" could be that Beach Boys-flavored jingle that GM has been dying to hear. And then there's a song about our greatest president, James K. Polk.

In the liners, Hedrick admits to being a control freak, and he's certainly dotted all his I's and crossed all his T's. The sound is tight and very, very studio. Hedrick crafted the graphic on the cover, and that same sort of sunny un-reality pervades his music.

You might think I'm complaining, but the strange thing is that Hedrick's wonky, obsessive sound works simply because the guy is so damned earnest. He makes music this plastic-sounding because he likes it that way. And his enthusiasm rubbed off on me in a big way.

The Heed
Prognosis
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #223, 10/15/01

A groove band with a heavy blooze 'n' boogie jones. The Heed doesn't bother too much with syrupy hooks or other pop conventions. Rather, the guys hope that a heavy dose of the backbeat and clever lyrics will carry the day.

Sometimes, it does. Certainly, the guys can play, and their expertise is impossible to ignore. Often enough, the songs seem to rely a bit heavily on technical skill and ignore writing craft. A few of these songs do sound "unfinished."

The album sounds good. Not too brassy and certainly not underdone. The sound is probably the most consistent part of the album. It does tie the package together nicely.

But the guys do have some work to do. Mostly in the writing phase. Instead of falling back on cliches, they need to dig a little deeper to resolve some of the trouble spots. Find their own way of writing out of a corner. Then these songs could really sing.

Heinous Bienfang
Satan's Camaro CD5
(Bullsitter)
reviewed in issue #165, 8/17/98

Also included with your CD is a 10-minute movie and other fun computer weirdness. The music itself is kinda non-descript, a bland version of Alice Donut (okay, so maybe it does have some character). There's a one-minute regular version of the song, a six-minute remix and two versions of the soundtrack to the 10-minute movie.

Of course, my refusal to upgrade my system means I can't see the included movie. From what the enclosed press clipping say, that's the interesting part of the package. And I can't see it.

Whatever. The tunage is fair to middling, and I can't really judge the visual part except by the soundtrack. Sounds amusing, an Atlanta version of Slacker or something. Something I can't see. Maybe I should put out for System 8 or something.

The Helio Sequence
Com Plex
(Cavity Search)
reviewed in issue #204, 8/28/00

The breakout success of the Flaming Lips a few years back proved that there was a market (if limited) for obsessively crafted headphone pop. Now, the Helio Sequence doesn't sound a whole lot like Oklahoma's finest (the sounds are a lot more technical and less noisome), but it is in the same arena.

There's a spaciness to these songs that's pretty cool. Almost as if these songs were beamed into my stereo rather than jumping out from a CD.

Like the music has been a journey, see, and not my mind. I can't nail down this feeling much more precisely. But it's a trip, to be sure.

There is a Beatles cover, and that's where the boys kinda get a bit excited. The thing is, "Tomorrow Never Knows" was already a kinda spacey song. Oh well, one minor (negligible, really) misstep isn't enough to get me bummed out. I'll accept these transmissions any day.

Hell on Earth
All Things Disturbingly Sassy
(Neptune Records)
reviewed in issue #245, September 2003

Some goth boys from Tampa (I swear to God, I've never seen a scene as weird and, um, natural as the one I experienced when living in Florida a few years back) who play some highly-processed industrial metal.

Kinda retro, in its way. Hell on Earth relies on sledgehammer drum machine beats, synched guitar and keyboard riffs and a nice growly vocal presence. Reminds me of the good Ministry albums.

Actually, that's a fine touchpoint. These songs are obviously studio creations, though I imagine the boys can do a fair job live. It wouldn't, it couldn't--and shouldn't--sound the same from a stage. That's cool.

Just a nice little head trip into the past. These guys really know how to dress up this sound and make it sing. Good enough to make me smile.

Hello Defective
Plastic Hearts EP
(Element 115)
reviewed in issue #240, April 2003

Over the last few years I received two EPs from something called ESP All-Stars. A band which, according to the minimal liners, "consists mostly of Kirby and Armitage." These boys played gorgeous distorted pop in the manner of latter-day Flaming Lips. And they, too, are from Oklahoma City. Interestingly enough, they met because Kirby saw Armitage wearing a bootleg Mercury Rev t-shirt that Kirby had sold at local record stores. Talk about divine intervention, or at the very least blind luck.

So now I get an EP from something called Hello Defective, which also seems to consist mostly of Kirby and Armitage. Four songs (as seems to be the norm) which are almost transcendently beautiful in their dissonance and distortion. Oh, yeah, there are some wondrous melodies flitting about as well.

And so, despite the awesome weirdness that two bands from central Oklahoma might actually play awesome wigged-out psychedelic pop, this continues to be the case. The name has changed, but Hello Defective still knows how to play the game. Apparently a full-length is due in the near future. Not soon enough, in my estimation.

A few months ago, Hello Defective (which contains the creative core of the fine band ESP All-Stars) released the Plastic Hearts EP. I dug it immensely. Now comes a full-length which also features the four songs from the EP.

I've never liked that sort of marketing. Makes the folks who bought the EP feel cheated or something. But enough of my soapbox. Time to talk about the music. And, as with everything I've heard from Mssrs. Armitage and Kirby, the five songs on this disc I haven't heard before (Stop it! Just stop it!) are simply outstanding.

Yes, these boys are from Oklahoma City, and yes, they play a highly-processed form of psychedelic pop music. Not unlike another band we all know and love. The comparisons are obvious, and I'm sure Hello Defective is a bit tired of them. Too bad. They'll have to change their sound to get rid of all that nonsense. But I wouldn't do that, because these boys sure do know how to make their songs shimmer.

And in the end, there's no way to rip off the Flaming Lips, apart from stripping out actual chunks of music. Hello Defective plays in the same pool, and it also produces similarly impressive sounds. Nothing wrong with that. In fact, if all bands were as creative as these boys, no one would be bitching about how terrible music is these days. I dunno. I'm a sucker for this stuff. You know that. These boys play it real nice. 'Nuff sed.

Hellbent
0.01
(Fifth Colvmn)
reviewed in issue #103, 3/18/96

A side project containing Bryan Black of Haloblack, Eric Powell of 16 Volt, Jared Hendrickson and Dylan Thomas of Chemlab and Charles Levi of MLWTTKK (knowhutimeen?). A nice pedigree, indeed.

A very sterile sound, complete with half-spoken vocals, a spare drum machine and the odd techno warblings in the background. And the usual wandering bass.

The whole proceedings are quite reserved, considering where these guys come from. But it's precisely that restraint that gives the impression all hell is about the break loose, bringing wonderful tension that adds immensely to the appeal. The thing is, the expected pain never arrives. Obviously the concept was laid out before the creation of the music, and the boys never wandered out of the parameters.

Not what you would expect from this crew, but such things result from a successful side venture. No, this isn't the catchy guitar-driven sound of the guys' regular gigs. But the departure is not only refreshing, it's quite satisfying in its own right. Hellbent has that technopop thing down rather well.

Something of a re-working of the 0.01 album released on Fifth Colvmn three years back. As Fifth Colvmn is no more, that disc is out of print (and pretty damned hard to find; no one's taking it off my shelf, that's for sure). There are a number of tracks from that disc sitting right along side some newer stuff. The same core members, the same general technopop sound.

Which means it's not exactly yer usual Reconstriction offering. Very electronic, very sterile (though with a bit more guitar in the newer pieces). I liked that first disc, and this hybrid re-issue still does the boys justice.

The song structures are basic pop, with some attention to catchy choruses. Catchy is a relative term, but you can sing (or speak) along if you like. Again, this sounds like it was made in one of them "clean rooms".

And again, I dig it. Even fans of the first disc (all thousand or so of you out there) will find plenty here to get you going once more. A classy re-issue. I wish more were like this.

Help Wanted
The Return of Monkey Face
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #159, 5/18/98

Another dose of that neo-white boy funk-folk sound. You know, syncopated jangle rock. I keep trying to define this sound better each time out, because I've gotten quite a few questions as to what I've meant. Okay. In the realms of Poi Dog Pondering and Blues Traveler, though in this case Help Wanted stays less pretentious and more groove friendly.

In fact, while I really can't stand the two bands I spoke of above, I like what Help Wanted does with the sound. The songs are serious, but they aren't self-indulgent and excessive. In fact, each line and idea is trimmed to just the right length. In fact, some of the songs sound a lot more like R.E.M. than Dead again.

All these references do mean something. Help Wanted still needs to work and further define its own sound. The band isn't quite sure how to play certain passages, and sometimes I hear the feel of the music shift out of character.

Still, the songs are good and the performances more than adequate. More work is needed, but Help Wanted has a decent handle on where to go.

Thomas Helton
Doublebass
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #238, February 2003

The title says it all. Thomas Helton wails on his double bass for an hour. Three pieces, each of which is rather distinct from the other.

What I like about Helton is that he actually plays the instrument. He's not picking or whacking or trying to make noises that the thing was never meant to play. He's simply composed some songs and he plays them.

I'll amend the "noises" statement. He does come up with a few cool screeches and whines, but only while he's also playing another line. Mostly, though, he's wandering through bass territory I've not heard before. He doesn't push the envelope all that much (this statement doesn't exactly contradict what I just said), but he sure does know how to get the most out of his instrument.

Fans of the truly avant garde won't really dig this, and certainly those with a toe in the mainstream will run screaming. But those who like to hear a nice workout on the double bass (which, after the baritone sax, is perhaps the coolest instrument around), Helton provides plenty of fine listening. I had a fine time, myself.

Hemisphere
Hemisphere EP
(Quantum Loop)
reviewed in issue #159, 5/18/98

The term EP is becoming more and more meaningless in this age of compact discs. Even without the remix of "Scetch" appended to the end, this set is longer than most punk albums. Hemisphere trucks in rather sterile explorations of techno sounds and electronic drum formations.

So in other words, this is stuff you might like to play at your next dance party. Or maybe not. We're not talking about strict 4/4 stuff here. A bit more complicated and strange than that. Beats drop in and out at almost random intervals, and the music isn't terribly inviting. Kinda alienating, really.

And I like that. Hemisphere is taking chances, as it should. Sometimes the melodic lines work with the rhythms, and sometimes they don't. Sometimes the songs themselves sound woefully out of sync. Just more exploration.

Those efforts pay off. Yeah, some of this stuff is way out there. The sounds of an alternate universe. The sort of thing that spaz in the corner dances to after one too many beers. Hey, everybody needs something. And Hemisphere provides admirably.

Hemlock
Valvestate EP
(Goldenrod)
reviewed in issue #115, 7/29/96

Punk-pop that's nicely crunchy and chaotic. Only five new songs here (with three from a previous 7"), but all are perfectly amazing.

Some odd bits that are strikingly reminiscent of Nirvana, not for any direct rip-off, though. Nathan Westwood handles bass and vocal duties, and his voice is almost eternally flat (not unlike a certain dead guy). And the band has that just-offhand way of cranking out pop gems that very few acts achieve after years of work.

Of course, Nirvana was never cool enough to do a rip-and-shred cover of the Duranies "Save a Prayer". The original is boring and pretentious, but this version is fast, heavy and mean. A like it a lot (like the rest of the disc).

Hoo-boy! Get these guys in the studio again and give me a full-length. I simply cannot wait.

Neil Henderson
Amateur Dreams
(Equus-CM)
reviewed in issue #83, 8/21/95

Rootsy pop-rock with hard rock leanings (though the music is quite restrained).

Not only am I unsure as to what this really is, I'm obviously not sure of what exactly Henderson is going for. When you make music this commercial, usually there is some sort of market that you're aiming at. The closest I can think of is the Babys, but even the Babys cranked up the guitars a lot more than this.

Which means this is just wanky music that few will like. No commercial potential, and far too cheesy to attract any alternative attention. I feel like I'm caught up in some time warp to the early 80s when David Foster produced stuff like this. Most of us are happy that sort of thing is past.

Scott Henderson Steve Smith Victor Wooten
Vital Tech Tones
(Tone Center-Shrapnel)
released in issue #160, 6/1/98

Shrapnel honcho Mike Varney decided to create a strictly fusion imprint (which will probably be the home of Richie Kotzen and other current Shrapnel artists), and he enlisted three well-regarded musicians to kick off this new endeavor.

Scott Henderson has played guitar with Chick Corea's Elektric Band, Jean Luc Ponty and his own band, Tribal Tech (among many other gigs). Steve Smith is indeed the Steve Smith of Journey, and he's played drums for more folks than I could list in one review. In addition to a highly successful solo career, bassist Victor Wooten plays with Bela Fleck. Not a bad lineup.

Most of the songs were written and worked out in the studio, with an intriguing cover of Coltrane's "Giant Steps" thrown in for good measure. Unlike most one-time improv groups, these guys keep a tight rein on their playing, sticking to a coherent group sound. This does avoid some of the potential highs, but also wipes out any serious gaffes as well.

Virtuosos who also know how to play with verve and feel, this trio kicks out some impressive licks. The teamwork shown here is impressive, and the songs show a nice range. A thoroughly enjoyable outing.

Aaron Henry
Poet Laureate
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #175, 1/25/99

I'm always a bit suspicious when an artist refers to his star sign at the top of the bio. I dunno. Just seems a bit silly. Distracting, in any case, though as ever, judgment is reserved for the music. And while Aaron Henry's promo matter is a bit excessive, the music slides right in just fine.

He lists influences from Hendrix to Rakim (the latter is very apparent). This is old-school funk-laden rap, where the rhymes are full of ideas and the grooves are as creative as the wisdom. I guess I am getting to be an old fogie. This is what I think of when I think of hip-hop, so I'm only, what 15 years behind the times?

Well, not exactly. Henry has undated the old sound. The sound samples are smoother, and the music is constructed with a bit more grace. And, of course, the subject matter is up-to-date.

That's what I really like, rap which says something. Old-style gangsta stories are nice and all, but real skill is exhibited in making good music with a message. Aaron Henry has that down just fine.

Hepcat
Right on Time
(Hellcat-Epitaph)
reviewed in issue #150, 12/29/97

I must admit, when I first read about Tim Armstrong's formation of Hellcat (under the broad Epitaph umbrella), I was a bit worried that there was something of a reaction to a fad going on. That's exactly what it was, but in this case, Armstrong, Gurewitz and friends have endeavored to bring to the fore real, live ska music, stuff that's faithful to the Studio One and London ideals. An education for the kiddies and edification for us oldsters.

Soul music with a syncopated groove, in other words. Hepcat skanks through song after song with sweet horns blowing and tight harmonies swinging. The production is wonderfully sparse and loose, giving the sound a wide, echoey, expansive feel. It's like you're in the club fetching the beat.

Traditional, but hardly wallowing in the past. Hepcat is no copycat, but an innovator true to the original concept. Luminous in its presentation of the real ska.

Simply a joy to behold. Like the Slackers album from earlier this year, Hepcat combines stellar musicianship with pureness of musical intent. The shining countenance of the band is palpable in the sound. Way too cool to miss.

Certainly Hellcat's most soulful ska act, Hepcat uses skankin' beats to explore the cool side. Using multiple singers and broad instrumentation, the band has as fully-fleshed a sound as I've heard.

But you already knew this (I'm assuming). What's heard here is a further expedition into the heart of the groove. Hepcat has never been superficial, but this album really gets down to the base of the matter.

A nice piece of that is the thick, mono-style sound that is highly reminiscent of the classic Studio One style. But instead of simply using that sound as an