M Coast
Say It in Slang
(Happy Happy Birthday to Me)
reviewed in issue #280, November 2006

How to play pop rock music in fifteen easy songs. Or something like that. M Coast wears more hats on this disc than Bartholomew Cubbins.

I say pop with good reason. These songs occasionally rock out, but more often there's a bossa nova trip or patched in harmony or some other honey-laden bit. These songs originated in the three-chord, three-minute universe, though M Coast takes each far beyond.

Superlative production here gives each song its own feel. There's little continuity as the album rolls along (which is a serious quibble, I admit), but as a jukebox set it's hard to find a fault.

Take what you get. Fifteen great songs that sound like they may have been recorded by as many bands? Hey, as long as they're great, I'm not gonna complain. Just hit shuffle.

M-3
Roger Miller Ben Miller Larry Miller
(New Alliance)
reviewed in issue #46, 1/15/94

If this isn't a concept album, I don't know what is. The first three songs were written by one of the members (Roger, Ben and Larry) and performed by all. The fourth song is everyone, writing and playing. Then the last four (Larry does two) songs are done by the members by themselves, writing and playing.

Yes, it sounds very weird. You can pick out folk to compare them to, but to my ear they have Henry Kaiser's sense of rhythm (though not much guitar). The rest? No idea. It's certainly a disturbing dream.

When something is as odd as this is, you folk know I have the tendency to wax ebullient. People need to be exposed to unusual music. They need to have their sense of reality challenged. I know that Ministry may perform that function for the KD in your creative writing crib course, but for most humans it takes a little more.

M-3 does the trick, wonderfully.

See also Roger Miller.

M.E.S.T
matter-energy-space-time
(Dwell)
reviewed in issue #89, 10/9/95

A guy from that coolest of trance outfits, Virtualizer (not to mention Ob1), cranks out a space-ambient disc that is pretty much trance without the beats.

And I don't get into it quite so much. But like the Virtualizer projects, there are plenty of music things going on to keep you occupied. And every once in a while, the beats do kick in.

For very spacey stuff, I am surprised I dig this so much. Perhaps it is just the talent behind the noise. Actually, I'd bet on that possibility. Give this an hour of your time, and you won't be disappointed.

See also Ob1 and Virtualizer.

M. Headphone
The Apex Barbecue
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #181, 5/3/99

Highly-crafted, extremely idiosyncratic fare. There's a vaguely funky rhythm guitar, a more straight-ahead lead guitar and a pile-driving bass and drums. With poppy vocals. Though each of those elements is subject to severe change at any given moment. Oh, man, this is one unusual band.

A lot of the press clippings wonder aloud why this band hasn't been signed. I can give that answer easily: It doesn't fit in anywhere.

And anyone who reads me regularly knows that means I'm really gonna dig the band. It's true: I like what these guys are trying to do. M. Headphone is working its ass off to carve its own niche. Sure, it's theirs by default, since no one else wants it, but still.

Advice time: If the boys want to get any time soon, they've gotta change. Get a bit more boring. Or, as an agent recently told me about my writing: "John Grisham does it this way; you should consider doing it this way, too." My response to that notion was to laugh my ass off and work on improving what I do within the notions of how I should do it.

Because if you do something in a very strange way for long enough, you get really, really good at it. And that's when the world starts accepting you on your own terms. Persistence and hard work are imperatives. That's my real advice here. Keep on keeping on, and once day the world will beat a path to M. Headphone's door.

M.O.D.
Rhythm of Fear
(Megaforce-PLG)
reviewed in issue #25, 11/30/92

The liners say it all: M.O.D. is Billy Milano, bass and vocals. Then it lists the session guys who helped out. Why not call this a Billy Milano solo project? Because a lot people have heard of M.O.D.

I know Milano did a lot of the work on previous M.O.D. recordings, but if something has a band name, then let it be a band. But enough of my bitching.

This is real tight and clean. And while that helps make this the most attractive M.O.D. album ever, there are drawbacks.

Like the paradox "attractive M.O.D. album." That says something. The songwriting is great, and the performance first-rate. I suppose I shouldn't really worry about what entity is creating what I hear. Ignore the names, favor the jams. So be it.

Um, still Billy Milano and folks he recruited to carry on the name. Not that they're untalented hacks (quite the opposite), but this is still Milano's project. He wrote all the lyrics and split music writing duties. I'll quit bitching about that particular thing now, because I also understand how difficult it is to let go of a profitable marketing tool like the M.O.D. name.

Like the last Megaforce album, this is pretty decent metal-core. Nothing great, but it's certainly tight, well-played and even somewhat catchy. Dated? Yeah, but then Anthrax and Sacred Reich are still getting paid, so why not Billy and friends?

I've never been the biggest M.O.D. fan, and this doesn't turn me. It's a good album, and it does continue the M.O.D. sound spectrum, but I just hope for something more.

The title says it all. This greatest hits sorta thing with some new shit thrown in, like a weird rendition of "Color My World" (yes, Chicago).

Billy Milano is again the driving force behind this set, with plenty of help from a few well-known folks on the side.

If you like M.O.D., you'll undoubtedly dig this. If you don't, run screaming, because M.O.D. is on the loose again. Rampant retardedness will soon be filling the streets.

Color me amused, as usual.

Another episode of the Billy Milano show. You know the riffs, you know the aggro lyrics. Nothing new, and nothing really to recommend here.

Even die-hard fans will find it difficult to really groove on this stuff. I mean, whatever creative instinct Milano had disappeared long before last year's greatest hits thing, and it sounds like he got much less cash to produce stuff here. The sound is really terrible.

Or maybe it's just a silly attempt to cash in on that "sloppy punk" stuff that was popular six months ago. I don't know. Everything is thrown together in a very messy way, and I'm often not able to locate the guitar lines from the rest of the rhythmic goo. With Milano's voice thrown behind that wall, well, the result is chaos. And that doesn't work well, since M.O.D. isn't one of those acts famous for technical proficiency and artistic impetus.

I wasn't expecting a whole lot, but I thought I'd find a tune or two worthy of jamming at high volume. Not in this set, I'm afraid.

Maalstroom
The Final Days EP
(Raw Records)
reviewed in issue #170, 10/26/98

Technical, Euro-style instrumental guitar. Like, say, Yngwie Malmsteen. A fair comparison, and Maalstroom (the odd spelling is the result of some legal affairs work) is in the same league, though the guitar is a bit slower (albeit more expressive).

Which is to say, the songs are written around the guitar, and past the guitar, there's not much of interest. The lead lines are pretty good, and they're quite well played, but I'd like to hear some more from the rest of the band.

And who knows? The band now has a singer, and forthcoming albums will feature vocals. Usually that diminishes the music, but with Maalstroom it might encourage some diversity in carrying the load. Let the other guys take a shot, now and again.

For what it does, Maalstroom does it well. A bigger band effort is needed to really take the sound to the next level.

The Mabuses
Mabused
(Magpie)
reviewed in issue #289, September 2007

I threatened this last month, and in fact, I've done it. The Mabuses get a full review. And damned if it only took me 20 listens to pull the trigger.

In truth, I'd decided after about five, but the other 15 simply confirmed my second (and third and...) impression. This is mordantly obsessive pop with more bits and pieces floating around in it than Pamela Anderson's chest. I'm not entirely sure why I didn't fall in love at first listen, but then, the best albums never hit me the first time.

Naw, this one takes a little getting used to. Mabuses have this habit of sewing two or three songs together into a single piece. Nothing unusual about that, except that the parts assembled rarely have a lot to do with each other--sometimes even when smashed up together.

The bouncy, bounding sound on this disc truly sells the songs properly. The music and lyrics are quite ambitious, but what comes out strongest is the fun these folks are having. Their music isn't quite conventional, and they're really damned happy about that.

So am I. This might well be my favorite album of the year. I'll have to listen to it another hundred or so times and then decide. There's a task I can definitely embrace.

Macabre
Sinister Slaughter
(Nuclear Blast)
reviewed in issue #37, 7/31/93

A tribute album to serial killers. Each of 21 songs details the attitudes and activities of these guys.

Very intense grindcore sound. My only real complaint is they didn't write a song about Kansas City's most famous serial killer, Bob Berdella. He picked up male prostitutes, chained them in his basement and tortured them to death over a period of months. No one knows how many he killed. When he died in prison, the news anchor said (really), Well, this one's sure to dredge up old memories..."

Great concept, good music. A damned educational disc. Hopefully it will spawn all sorts of law enforcement complaints. Let's roast America's other white meat.

Tony MacAlpine
Freedom to Fly
(Shrapnel)
reviewed in issue #14, 5/31/92

Undeniable talent, but Tony MacAlpine has at times compromised and released some cheese in attempts to cash in.

Not here. This stuff is about as good as it gets for instrumental guitar work. You have to expect a little masturbatory excess, but that is kept to a minimum. And MacAlpine knows when to stick with a groove rather than show off with his speed. B.B. King is a guitar master, and he never rushes a good note. A good lesson for all. Tony MacAlpine seems to have caught on.

More guitar hero solo work from one of the more talented axe-men around. With his last effort, I thought he was trying to get away from the highly technical and into more heart-felt works.

There are fewer runs up and down the scales, and those that exist are at least not terribly show-offy, but this has the sound of a Joe Satriani record. Which is to say, almost artificial.

Then there's the one song on the album that features Branford Marsalis and some other horns. This is still a fairly commercial piece, but it is just the slightest bit less glitzy than the rest.

I liked the direction of his last album. This is okay, but I was hoping for more.

No one questions Tony MacAlpine's talent. He has technical skills on the guitar that almost every other player around would kill to get a hold of. But he has always been searching for a signature piece, a song or album or even just a riff that would really define his sound, his place in the realm of guitarists.

I don't see that here. The songs are a little cooler than recent efforts, giving them an even more Satriani-esque color. No stealing, but just a general feel.

As usual, MacAlpine goes through as many effects as he does scale runs, which keeps things lively and interesting. You can't fault him for not trying.

Another solid album, but not the one to really break Tony MacAlpine into the stratosphere.

This is the album Tony MacAlpine has been trying to make ever since he embarked on his rather impressive career.

Plenty of chances to show off his prodigious talent, songs that are catchy (in an anthemic sorta way) and a good diversity of material to keep us all interested.

He wails on his guitar in a way that usually offends me, but MacAlpine is simply too far in the groove on this disc. For whatever reason, everything clicked together. Even on the most Satriani-esque moments (like, say, "Time Table"), he manages to keep me impressed.

I've been waiting for MacAlpine to come up with a great album. Everyone knows he has the playing talent, and he has shown flashes of songwriting skill as well. All of the parts flow as one wonderful unit, and MacAlpine has his signature album. For instrumental guitar work, it doesn't get much better than this.

Jahmings Maccow & E-Rif
New Way
(Liquid Cyber)
reviewed in issue #213, 3/12/01

For the last 20 years or so, a lot of reggae recordings have been made on skimpy budgets, using lots of keyboards to save on studio costs. Jahmings Maccow fits right in to that tradition.

It's too bad, too, because these are good songs. With a band, or at least a more skilled producer to creatively fill out the sound, this album could have really been impressive. Because despite the chintzy production values, this stuff is still pretty good.

Maccow is an impassioned singer and songwriter, and his emotional range brings an unusual intensity to these songs. His songs are pure expressions of one point of view; there's no equanimity here. But that's exactly why the pieces burn so brightly.

Man, I wish someone had spent an extra grand to do a better job on the drum machines (at the very least). Maccow's songs deserve a lot more than that. He's got something to say. It would be nice if he had a better platform.

Mach 5
Sunday's Here 7"
(Wagon Train)
reviewed in issue #114, 7/15/96

Jangle pop with a bit of a grunge edge (these folks are obviously monstrous Big Star and Posies fans-who isn't?). Bit of that swirly guitar making everything just a bit fuzzy. Mouthwatering.

"Sunday's Here" is one of those happy summer songs that always make me feel like there isn't a cloud in the sky. Nothing complicated; just fine pop stuff.

And the flip follows the same way. "Blown Away" is a bit more downbeat, but only slightly. I do wish the production had left stuff a bit cleaner (the bass kinda gets lost from time to time), but I can simply pretend this is one of those pop stunners from the late 60s-early 70s. A certain slab of glory.

Macha
Macha
(Jetset)
reviewed in issue #186, 9/28/98

Macha uses basic pop melodies, but alters them slightly. Just enough to lend an off-kilter feel. Some of the eccentricities can easily be identified as Middle Eastern, but more of them are tougher to parse. Perhaps Indian, perhaps Turkish. Perhaps perhaps. And, of course, under all of this is a Brit pop band.

Yes, that is the end result. And the fusion of Eastern (and Middle Eastern) and Western pop music is very trendy in London these days (so my sources tell me). Macha isn't gimmicky with its sound (like a few other acts), though. It's easy to hear the genuine feeling behind even the most unusual bits.

An intriguing album, one with as much lurking beneath as on top. An iceberg of a disc, maybe. Macha doesn't apologize for itself, however, and I don't think it should. Nope. This disc stands just fine on its own.

I was looking over my review of Macha's first album, and it's apparent I really didn't understand what's going on. I still don't, actually, but I've got a better handle. Maybe the band does, too. Could be. Don't want to commit myself or anything.

The vaguely Indian and Middle Eastern influences are a bit more strongly in evidence, but so are the Western pop underpinnings. And while this sounds like Britpop, in fact, the band resides in Athens. Georgia, that is.

All of the collected influences (and I think I hear some stuff that might even be Far Eastern) are run through the Macha wringer, and nothing comes out unscathed. Original intentions count for nothing. This is music cut from wholly original cloth, tailored by four guys with a real sense of purpose.

Not that I can really divine that purpose yet. But I like trying. And one of these days, I just might crack the nut. Or would that ruin the effect? Can't say.

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

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

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

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

A further refinement of the psychedelic-friendly dance-rock ideal put forth on previous Macha efforts. This is easily the band's most cohesive effort to date. Reminds me of the Love and Rockets's better days--but this time, fueled by espresso.

Machine Head
Burn My Eyes
(Roadrunner)
reviewed in issue #60, 8/15/94

This disc positively crackles with aggressive energy. Mixing styles from all sides of the loud music universe, Machine Head comes down heavy with a vengeance.

The band is still young and learning. I can't identify a real sound or even tell exactly where the music is going at all times. And that's a good thing (in case you were curious). No need to be complacent.

There is room for improvement: the playing is sometimes sloppy, and at times the boys copy their influences a little too closely for my comfort. But this disc is jammed with potential. I just get a good vibe listening to it. Machine Head should have a great future, as long as the members continue to grow.

It took me a while to get into Burn My Eyes, and this album hits me the same way. Machine Head refuses to be type-cast or to stick to any preconceived notions of metal, with the possible exception that the music should be played very loud.

A power-metal band that manages to sound nothing like Pantera, Metallica or even Sepultura? Yes. There are more than a few nods to Fear Factory, but I'll forgive some appropriation of the labelmates style. And anyway, such traits are but a small part of the greater sound of Machine Head.

This album is really late. I mean, it's been two and a half years. All the excitement of that fine debut album has worn off. Until folks get a taste of this puppy, I guess.

Is it just me, or is Roadrunner kicking out some of the best metal around this year. Coal Chamber and Karma to Burn were much better than average, and this album, while certainly highly anticipated, has managed to overwhelm my wildest expectations.

Fifty-something minutes of pure, textured aggro. I can't begin to catalog all of the influences and sounds, except to say that the final result is nothing less than stunning.

In case you were wondering, metal isn't dead. The bands at the top of the Roadrunner rostrum (Fear Factory, Sepultura, Soulfly and Machine Head) do all feed from the same trough, but each has branched out in unique directions.

This sound does go back to Sepultura and Fear Factory, of course, but Machine Head incorporates a rapid-fire, almost rap approach to the vocals, stripping the rhymes over tribal-style rhythms and buzzsaw guitars. In that way, Machine Head has become something more conventional. But even so, I've never heard anyone do this quite the same way.

Change is one way to remain vital, and so Machine Head has infused its already powerful sound with some new repertoire material. But the new sounds simply spice up what was already there. Perhaps it's change for change's sake, but it works.

By the way, that listing of bands at the top of the review is also a list of some of the most vital bands in metal. I don't know how anyone who claims to love a loud sound would pass up anything by these folks. This is simply another quality album from a band that might well have passed from good to great. Bite into this adrenaline line and ride.

The Machine in the Garden
One Winter's Night
(Middle Pillar)
reviewed in issue #185, 7/26/99

Well, yeah, it's dark. Goth. Whatever. An astonishingly sparse and simple approach to the sound, often with just vocals and a fairly minimal keyboard accompaniment. These do sound like fully-fleshed out songs, but certainly not typical ones.

Haunting, to be sure, and I know that's one effect the duo was going for here. Yeah, there are some basic gothic pop songs here (complete with percussion, guitar and bass lines, etc.), but even those are relatively clean sounding, without all the bombast that often accompanies this sound.

The real test of a band is whether or not it can try on different ideas and sounds and still retain its own identity. The Machine in the Garden has a firm grasp on what it wants to do, and so even as it flits from this side to that, there is no mistaking the sound. In a genre where bands can trend to generic awfully quickly, this duo is impressive in its presence.

Yes, Roger Frace and Summer Bowman are that good. This is a confident and accomplished album from a band that has a secure handle on its identity. Haunting, beautiful, stirring--it's all that. And, as the cliche goes, more.

Mad Caddies
Duck And Cover
(Fat Wreck)
reviewed in issue #165, 8/17/98

I'm sure in the future there will be an entire nation of jaded kids who used to jump up and down, dress in suits and pork pie hats and have tattoos that sport the phrase "Skanking Bastard." This nation will be dubbed "Old Skanker Land."

And it will probably be somewhere in the flat grasslands of the midwest. No one will be jumping around anymore. No one will be wearing their suits or pork pie hats anymore. And that tattoo? What are you kidding? That's why we developed laser technology, right?

Anyway, apropos to everything I've said so far, the Mad Caddies have got some nice tight ska here. It's not terribly distinctive from anything else on the market (but they've got a really cool cover -- WWII themed), but it doesn't suck. And they're financed by Fat Mike, so what else do you want? Yeah, I don't know either. I guess I'll just keep jumping up and down for now until something else cool comes along.

-- Matt Worley

Feeling that it had been a while between records, Mad Caddies decided to whip out a short EP. Four original tracks and the obligatory Abba cover.

Mad Caddies kick out that loose, thick ska sound that works best at parties. Or, as the liners say, "try drinking a lot and listening again." Actually, this stuff is a lot of fun even before contemporary bladder exercises.

Worth putting out for any reason. Nothing spectacular, perhaps, but a nice little bundle of joy. Sure to chase the blues away.

Less ska-core than simply snotty punk with horns, the Mad Caddies have in any case created one hell of an irresistible sound. I mean, if this doesn't sound like party music to you then you're drinking enough.

And I say that because the boys know how to mix things up. Punk rock can get awfully dull if you stay the same. Mad Caddies do have a tendency to slide into the NOFX style of oozin-ahs, but the horns help out. Not to mention the utterly infectious hooks. You must sing along.

Right. See, there's no option. Each of these songs shows off different shades of punk. The versatility of the band is key. Yeah, the guys can play. No kidding. But there's no way to get bored with this album, and that's what helps to set it apart.

There's also the dry and biting sense of humor, the sharp and clean production and the general high quality of the writing. There's no such thing as a perfect punk album. That would be an oxymoron. But the Mad Caddies have angled their way toward the top of the pro heap. Craft and punk can walk hand in hand without losing the fun factor. Don't believe me? Take a listen here.

Mad Daddys
The Age of Asparagus
(R.A.F.R.)
reviewed in issue #220, 8/13/01

Perhaps you've deduced that these guys aren't the most serious boys on the planet. Well, perhaps "boys" is a bad term. I've seen the pictures. A couple of these guys look old enough to be my dad (and maybe your grandpa). Well, maybe not that old, but still...

Solid, back-beat driven punk rock. Songs that delve into some of the dumbest corners of the human existence. Which would get annoying, except that the Mad Daddys know exactly what they're doing: They're having fun.

So it's easy to come along for the ride. The thick sound enhances the goofy feel of the album, and the songs just rumble on through the night. It's impossible not to laugh, and I think that's precisely the intention here.

Or, maybe in a subtle twist, the guys are going for "Good n' Stoopit," a most appropriately titled song in the middle of the disc. I dunno. I had fun. That's about all I can ask from something like this.

Mad Flava
Feel tha Flava CD5
(Priority)
reviewed in issue #46, 1/15/94

Taking their rhythmic sensibilities and rhyming tendencies from Cypress Hill (without that real annoying whining sound CH seems to be propagating), Mad Flava certainly are on a current tip.

Eric "Vietnam" Sadler remixes a couple of the tracks, and you do start to hear a little of that P.E. Fear sound going on. But I've always liked that a lot.

As for the lyrical content, this is basically a lyrical boast, much like lead tracks from the recent Dr. Dre and Snoop Dog albums. Personally, I prefer it when people speak about something other than themselves. But once again, they are on the current tip.

Mad Happy
Renegade Geeks
(Mutiny Zoo Records)
reviewed in issue #269, October 2005

Goofy as hell laptop hip hop. Reminds me of Dee-Lite, though more in terms of sensibility than sound. Mad Happy trips through a variety of electronic styles, including a heavy reliance on dance hall reggae.

What separates these folks from the plethora of college-educated white folks making hip hop albums these days is the relentless self-deprecation. Even when this duo starts bragging, it's making fun of itself.

The sound itself is thoroughly stripped down, giving the whiny rhyming plenty of room to annoy. But somehow I'm more amused than aggravated. And in case anyone is looking to pick up an act like this, both MikeiLL and Rivka are almost reprehensively attractive. Never hurts, you know.

But what actually sells this album is the rhymes. The wry observations come fast and furious. And for such a minimal sound, a lot of these songs are pretty damned catchy. Maybe the better parts of the 80s are finally coming around, after all.

Madball
Set It Off
(Roadrunner)
reviewed in issue #59, 7/31/94

Take Rollins, add gruffer vocals and more metallic riffs. Keep the same moronic bass line. You get Madball.

Well, that's not entirely fair. Madball keeps the beat rolling better, and even occasionally comes up with a song I like. Yeah, it's really hard to find an original riff or beat, but sometimes this stuff does rock.

Not enough, though. It's even pretty good in spots, but I can't find something in the music that will make me remember Madball. That's the final test.

As always, tightly produced. Metal riffs and hardcore vocals and attitude. And I'll admit, this one is catchier than previous efforts.

But still, the glossy sheen on the sound leaves this sounding slightly generic. And the fact that Gang Green riffs are slung without compunction (let's not pretend Gang Green originated them, either) is more than a little annoying.

And while Madball makes an attempt to write "serious" and "positive" lyrics, they aren't terribly original or insightful. Still the whole package does have a vague something that kinda attracts me.

While I obfuscate and try and pull my head out of my ass, I will note that I haven't really liked any Madball release previous to this (though I recall not hating the last one). Lots of other folks (most of them in the NYC area) do. So if I kinda like this one, does that mean they've sold out or changed enough that the old fans won't like this? Fuck if I know.

Kinda like the last Leeway album. I might even play this again, though it's not a priority. And I don't think that bodes well for the real fans of this band.

A lot of people like Madball. The band has a significant following, and plenty of folks I know swear by the guys. The stuff has never quite worked for me.

And this comes as close as any album I've heard. The boys have added even more bits and pieces to the sound, making this as distinctive a generic hardcore sound as there is. Still, there's the "g" word.

Now, if I were in the mood for NYC metalcore, well, this might do the trick. But I'm not, and it doesn't. I've heard a lot of bands with this basic sound, and while Madball does distinguish itself a little better than in the past, it isn't taking the sound to a new level.

I've just never been attracted to this particular brand of aggro tension. Hard to say why, really, but that's the case. Madball is as good as I've heard do this sound, and this is the best I've heard from the band. So if your tendencies are on a different track than mine (and they probably are), perhaps that's the most telling sentence in this review.

Madcap
Stand Your Ground
(Side One Dummy)
reviewed in issue #214, 4/2/01

So I'm sitting here, looking at the cover and the liners. Haven't put the disc on. I'm thinking, these boys really like the Clash. You know what? They do. Early Clash, more like, the strident, aggressive stuff. But still, the connection is there.

I know, literally millions of punks worship the Clash and wish they could be the Clash. Right right right. But then there's doing your own thing. And Madcap does, to an extent. There are oi-like choruses and nicely manic arrangements to keep me amused.

And yet. To be fair, Madcap does do this sound right. There's no laziness here. The boys rock hard and loud, and the songs are lotsa fun. Nothing to sneeze at, in any case.

But not enough to really break the band out of the pack, either. Good generic, but there's no getting around the fact that Madcap sounds like an awful lot of bands out there.

Madelin Zero
Madelin Zero EP
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #222, 9/24/01

I guess it's a cliche, but guys generally go for female singers with low, sultry voices. Especially the ones who can growl a bit. Madelin Zero can growl. Real well.

Her songs fall into the power pop category, though with more oomph than the stereotypical "chick rock" perpetrator. And she's not using heavier music to try and disguise vocal shortcomings. Zero can go from a whisper to a wail without losing any tone or flying off key. She's got the chops.

That goes for her writing as well. She's genuinely talented and worth hearing. Now she's just got to get lucky. That's the hardest job of all.

Magellan
Impending Ascension
(Magna Carta)
reviewed in issue #69, 1/31/95

Be it Queen, Yes, ELP or those American poseurs Kansas Or Styx, I'm just not a big fan of supposed progressive rock. The songs often sound more constructed than composed, and everything seems pretty damned antiseptic.

So goes Magellan. This is not my kind of music. The playing is great, and there are parts of songs I quite dig. But the whole thing is so pompous and sterile, well, I can't get into it.

On the other hand, I can't think of another band that so completely replicates the late-70s prog-rock experience (down to 12-minute songs). If that is your bag, then I can't imagine you being disappointed.

Magellan
A Strange Traffic of Dreams
(demo)
reviewed in issue #130, 3/17/97

While not the same Magellan as records for Magna Carta (and I hope I'm not creating any legal difficulties here), this Magellan also travels a byway of the prog rock landscape.

Rather poppy, with plenty of little sound sculpture tidbits lying about. The vocals are generally filtered through one machine or another, and whatever guitars appear also sound rather mutated.

Kinda in a Floyd-lite state. The lyrics and music are nowhere near as pompous and overbearing, but there is still a resemblance. I guess a comparison to the best of Alan Parsons Project is also in order. Well produced, fairly mellow, but still adventurous, pop fare. You could do a lot worse.

The funny thing about the name is that this Magellan has been around much longer. Take a check of the website and see how much this band has done. Fairly impressive, really.

The sound may be inoffensive, but Magellan still traverses some fertile waters. Prog-pop without the cheese.

Maggi, Pierce and E.J.
For
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #214, 4/2/01

This album is "dedicated to and inspired by the life and music of Jeff Buckley." So sez the back cover. Doesn't mean there are any covers or anything. More an extrapolation, music created because of the band's exposure to Buckley.

As for a sound, the trio doesn't stick to anything in particular. From full-throated spacey rock to nuevo folk to blues to stops in all parts of the world, Maggi, Pierce and E.J. don't make long stops at any one musical harbor.

And yet, each of these songs sounds like it belongs on this set. Perhaps it's the indirect subject matter. Perhaps it's Maggi's silky steel vocals. Perhaps these folks simply know how to bring in all sorts of influences without getting lost musically.

I dunno. One or all of those probably apply. Here's the thing: When an album this adventurous manages to hold together well, someone's doing something right. Maggi, Pierce and E.J. really know how what they're doing. Top notch all the way.

Magic Bullets
A Child But in Life Yet a Doctor in Love
(Words on Music)
reviewed in issue #284, April 2007

I'm not even going to try and figure out what the title of the album means. But it is somewhat indicative of the music within. Magic Bullets play very involved pop music, stuff that throws layer upon layer (even while sounding exceedingly simple) in an apparent desire to mask any and all core meaning.

Well, maybe not quite all that, but this stuff is awfully pretty and equally confusing. I've never been a lyrics guy (I think I mention them every third or fourth review at most), but with this style lyrics are key. And I don't get these.

But the music is so pretty. And even with all of its complexity, I can hear the meaning in it. The problem for me is that lyrics don't seem to match up with the story told by the song itself. The question is how much of a problem that really is.

Not a killer. For starters, people who value lyrics may be able to figure out what's going on here. And people who like well-constructed pop music will simply bliss out. There's no reason those two groups of people ever need meet. And maybe after another hundred listens or so (a very attractive prospect to my ears) I'll figure this out. That's cool with me.

Magic Wave
Magic Wave
(self-released)
released in issue #160, 6/1/98

A heavy duty dose of the Hendrix, filtered through Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin. I know, they're kinda interrelated as it is, but Magic Wave just wallows in the stuff. Without completely ripping either off (the vocals are much more of a glam metal wail, for example), which puts the band ahead of most.

Still, nothing here suggests any musical growth within the last 25 years. Magic Wave is just stuck in big guitar grandly played. Done well enough, but this music has been done before.

It pains me to come down on this disc, because the band is definitely talented. The playing and sound are great. It's just that I'm not a big fan of retroid band which don't really move any of the old ideas forward. And Magic Wave is stuck in neutral.

Too much of the old times for me. I'd like to hear even the slightest hint of innovation.

The Maginot Line
Paris Burning
(Ambiguous City!)
reviewed in issue #236, December 2002

The album's title may have something to do with the band's name, but in every way the Maginot Line plays distinctly American rock. Pretty much straight up emo, with a few progressive pop tendencies thrown in just for fun.

The verses are generally strident and almost atonal. The choruses are often multifaceted and utterly beautiful. I sure do like the way these songs are built piece by piece before exploding into splendor.

Indeed, it's that ultra-crafted writing style that gets to me most. These songs are simple joys to hear. And as much as it is obvious these guys worked dreadfully hard writing and arranging these songs, the energy level is quite high as well. There's no quit here.

A lot of fun for me. There's plenty of thought within these songs, but I'm exhilarated by the athletic pacing and tight writing. It's very hard to fuse those elements, but the Maginot Line makes it sound simple.

One shot each from these bands, and each makes the most of the grooves. That's what you like to hear.

Jet by Day's "Cheap Shots" is a real chunky rockin' raver that reminds me a lot of Cheap Trick. I'm not sure there's any relation to the song title or if I'm just on a hangover from cruising through the Sex, America, Cheap Trick boxed set last week. Anyway, the song is loud and fun, which works for me.

The Maginot Line's "Theme Song" is a frenetic workout, not unlike what I've heard from the band before. It's got a real nice post-indie rock feel (how's that for mashing yer genres?), and the energy keeps up throughout the whole piece. no flagging whatsoever.

Again, this is what a seven-inch ought to be: a slab of fun. The two bands here match up well, and they make a nice team here.

Magnapop
Hot Boxing
(Play It Again Sam-Priority)
reviewed in issue #60, 8/15/94

They toured with Sugar, Bob Mould was in the booth on this one. Guess how it sounds.

Great, of course. Magnapop has a great sense of understated, um, pop, and Mould makes sure to punch those guitars right out the roof. Jangle-pop becomes DAMNED LOUD JANGLE POP.

The amazing thing is that there is any sense of dynamics conveyed at all. Yeah, there is a lot in your face, but occasionally things back off and you enjoy a peaceful moment. Then your ass gets kicked again.

What really sets Magnapop off from the other thousand college pop acts from Georgia is the songwriting. Every tune is highly crafted, with all the lines intended to create one coherent, catchy whole. Everything right on target. Magnapop is wondrous.

Hot Boxing, the first Magnapop album, was great. It had wonderfully blocky production courtesy of Bob Mould. The songs were terse anthems. One of those songs even made it onto a Taco Bell sampler. I still listen to it once or twice a month. The second album was almost as good, but to my ear was missing something. Other people must have thought so as well, since it didn't sell as well and Magnapop kinda went away.

But not all the way. And now we have this new album, some ten years after that first effort. The songwriting style is similar, though the playing is more refined and just a tad bit more modern (if that makes any sense). The production isn't as contrasty as on Boxing, but then, these songs are a bit more subtle as well.

The sound allows itself to get loud and vicious when necessary, but it also allows the songs to develop on their own. There are more ideas here. Not so much tangents--Linda Hopper and Ruthie Morris haven't reworked their style--as much as asides. Catty comments on the songs themselves. They're cool like that.

I don't think a lot of people were waiting for the big Magnapop comeback. That's okay. Give your friends one bite of "Satellite" and see if they don't come around. It's always nice to hear from an old pal who's fallen out of touch.

Magnetic Fields
The Charm of the Highway Strip (advance cassette)
(Merge-Touch and Go)
reviewed in issue #46, 1/15/94

Mesmerizing pop, with just a hint of that pschedelia-distortion tip, but not enough to annoy. Wowzers.

Magnetophone
I Guess Sometimes I Need to Be Reminded of How Much You Love Me
(4AD)
reviewed in issue #208, 11/20/00

When folks talk about electronic music, they usually aren't talking about this kinda stuff. Magnetophone assembles its songs out of every sort of loop and sample imaginable. Except that the pieces don't sound like loops and samples. It just sounds like a band is sitting down and playing this stuff. Though I'm pretty sure that would be impossible.

Though, given the astonishing nature of the compositions, I guess anything's possible. These pieces ("songs" just doesn't seem to sound right) seem to resemble stream of consciousness thought. They're a little weird.

But awfully wonderful. While the stuff sounds like nothing you might find in the "organic" world, there is a warmness, something inviting about it. Just astonishingly cool. I could bathe in this all day and night.

File under "music that kicks ass." Don't bother with any other sort of category. Don't flinch and you'll find yourself hypnotized by the almost horizonless visions of the sounds. Really. I'm not exaggerating. Magnetophone has created some truly brilliant music.

The Magnificents
The Magnificents
(KFM)
reviewed in issue #257, September 2004

Highly processed, highly aggressive. The Magnificents sound like Devo run through a digital hardcore filter. Some songs more new wave, some more hardcore, but always an interesting mix.

I've always been fascinated by folks who fuse melody and noise--no matter the sort of noise. Here, we're talking about electronically-created distortion, for the most part, though there's plenty of other little modulation tricks in the mix as well.

The key to an enterprise like this is to keep a spontaneous feel to the songs, no matter how crafted they may be. Devo's best stuff sounded like a real mechanical band, as it were, and not just some geek at a keyboard. The Magnificents keep the tunes moving at a fair clip; that does most of the heavy lifting in terms of making the sound fresh.

Probably too-piledriving for pure pop fans, and perhaps a bit too melodic for hardcore hardcore fans (though we're talking about some extreme ears on that side of things), the Magnificents do a fine job of fusing an original sound out of styles that have, in some cases, actually been played to death. Most engaging.

Magnolia Thunderfinger
A Lot of Motor Under Your Wheels
(Fangerbang)
reviewed in issue #142, 9/1/97

Loverly heavy rawk, inspired by the likes of Iggy and the Replacements but with the full-on sound of now, baby. Uptempo and whompin, with little regard for anyone left behind.

In other words, basically tuneful stuff with awesome guitar licks. The sound is dead solid perfect, tuning up all the of the various components until the machine is purring like a kitten. And make no mistake: Magnolia Thunderfinger delivers when the light goes green.

Simple pleasures, sure, but it's awful nice to hear unapologetic guitar rock done right. No hangups and no obeying some ages-old "formula". The songs keep rolling out, and the disc keeps impressing.

I sure wish I'd had this puppy all summer, because is exactly what I want to have blaring out my windows as I zoom around in the sunshine. Music that makes me feel alive. And that's a great fucking feeling to have, let me tell you.

Mahavatar
Mind Hypnotic Vision Towards Revolution
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #207, 10/30/00

A rather unique mix of extreme and classic 70s metal. There is, of course, the novelty of the singer and the guitarist both being women, though to be honest that's not much of a curiosity anymore.

What is important is the music, and Mahavatar has created a unique sound for itself. Lizza Hayson sings in a very low range, and the husky vocals have some of that extreme edge. Karla Williams' riffage comes more from the late 60s and early 70s, melodic and powerful.

The key word here is power. Mahavatar presents its songs with polish and relish. These folks know how to get what they want. There's not simply potential here; there's great stuff.

Marco Mahler
Design in Quick Rotation
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #288, August 2007

Exceedingly understated songs, most of them just Mahler and his guitar (with the occasional overdub and bass line). The style isn't really folk, either, but more pop along the lines of James Taylor or Paul Simon. Though significantly more minimalist than either of those guys.

Indeed, the stark nature of this recording is its most arresting feature. It took me a while to really figure out the songs. That doesn't make much sense, as they're pretty much right in my face, but then, there's a reason my mom made sure my name had only three letters.

Yes, I miss the obvious all the time. And while this album is anything but, Mahler's approach doesn't waver from the first note to the last. He travels through his songs, using each to change course ever so subtly.

Not nearly so idiosyncratic as a Simon Joyner or Songs:Ohia or Wil Oldham or whatnot, Mahler has nonetheless managed to notch his own first-rate entry into the minimalist singer-songwriter ledger. Fine work.

Jennifer Maione
Jennifer Maione CD5
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #184, 7/5/99

Cool vocals oozing from the blooze, with riff-sharp music kicking in the background. Remind me a lot of Melissa Etheridge's first album (which, if you recall, was pretty good), though Maione has a better voice and a somewhat heavier approach to the tunes.

Three songs here, all mid-tempo rockers. But other than that, each is nicely distinct, showing a good range. If this is any indication, Maione has both the songwriting and the singing skills to really get somewhere.

As you might have inferred, this is fairly commercial fare. But of a good sort. Maione has a deft touch with both her lyrics and her music, and the voice is the sort most dream of having. I'm rather knocked out.

The Majesticons
Beauty Party
(Big Dada)
reviewed in issue #238, February 2003

There's a trend among certain labels to drop audio "watermarks" into promo discs. The worst of these can really distract me when I'm trying to review the album in question. Strangely, though, I really dig the noises grafted over the songs on this disc. In a way, the version of this album that I have is more interesting than the one you might buy.

Whatever. The Majesticons apparently conceived of this album as something of a dancehall/r&b sampler. Each song is a sort of "party." Like "Piranha Party." Or "Brains Party," which cleverly references the Pet Shop Boys's "Opportunities."

As for the execution, the Majesticons never forget to include the grooves. A lot of modern "soul" music is more a display of artless singing or dull, repetitive hooks. These pieces are smooth and slinky, with plenty of sly attitude at the bottom end.

I still must confess I like the almost constant interference from the anti-piracy overlays. They actually complement the songs rather well. But I figure I'd like this puppy even without the promobot going off all the time. Majesticons sure do know how to throw a party or 15.

Maji
Mystery Machine
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #139, 7/21/97

The lava lamp take-off on the cover should have warned me. Lots of epochal riffs, with dabs of vocals here and there. A lot like a grungy Black Sabbath.

I've heard worse, but I've also heard this before. Sounds a lot like Soundgarden did about five years ago. I kinda liked Soundgarden back then, so this sound isn't horrifying to my ears, but I do yearn for something original.

On the plus side, the production on this self-made disc is very good. The band has managed to craft a major-label sound (with the exception of the drums, which sound a bit mechanical) on a tight budget. That's a serious accomplishment. Were that the music found a more creative perch.

Leaning on inspiration is one thing, but Maji is far too close to some fairly famous bands to really get very far. I know this is a serious conundrum (if you sound too common or too weird, the big boys don't want you), but that's the biz.

Makar
99-Cent Dreams EP
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #225, January 2002

Some folks have the strange notion that jangle-pop can never rise above milquetoast. Makar's songs sound easy-going and free of worry, at least until the lyrics kick in.

I kinda like that dichotomy. The wonderfully intricate and involved lyrics work quite well with the rolling pop tunes to create a deep and moving picture. The band has crafted its sound quite carefully--to sound loose, of course.

The playing is tight yet spirited. Just one more set of seemingly oxymoronic qualities that cements the quality of this set. Thoughtful and breezy all at once.

Make Lisa Rich
Another Venus
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #194, 1/24/00

Power pop that doesn't rely on the hook to do the job. Rather, the emphasis is on the various rhythms and riffs that underlie each song.

This isn't one of my favorite techniques, though what it does do is increase the importance of the lyrics. And there, Make Lisa Rich comes through. These songs are fairly personal and quite incisive. Irony isn't unknown here.

Which is interesting, because the music is rather straightforward. No underhanded tricks which would imply various implements of sarcasm. Maybe it's that jumble, as much as the riffage, which keeps me uneasy. Though don't take my searching glances as unhappiness.

Indeed, Make Lisa Rich is really stretching the sound. This is hardly typical fare, and it's that fertile feeling that keeps me intrigued. There's plenty here to contemplate.

The Makers
Stripped
(Kill Rock Stars)
reviewed in issue #260, December 2004

One might think that Kill Rock Stars, of all labels, wouldn't be jumping on any sort of trendy sounds. The Makers are straight outta the garage, and not particularly subtle about it. What gives?

Well, when you consider that KRS was releasing garage bands long before they were cool, it all makes perfect sense. And anyway, the Makers do happen to throw in a bit of the stoner rock fuzz and other nice bits to color their songs.

Hell, this stuff is so damned arrogant and snotty it's impossible not to have some sort of reaction. I'm sure plenty will be put off--these guys truly don't give a shit--but I like that sort of sauciness. Rock and roll ought to be played with a sneer.

One of those albums that proves that it's possible to find a couple new wrinkles in even the most apparently played-out sound. The Makers aren't going to change the world, but they make me smile. And that's cool.

The Makers are probably older than me. They've been purveying their own version of snot-nosed, attitude-driven garage rock for nearly 15 years. They know how to make this stuff sound good, and this album is further proof. Not much different from their KRS album of last year, but certainly as good. And, of course, louder is better.

Makkiwhipdies
His Name Is NNNNNN... A Musical Extravaganza
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #129, 3/3/97

Once you get past the title track (a real musical extravaganza that clocks in at more than 20 minutes), Makkiwhipdies (don't even think of asking me what it means) settles down into a steady diet of sample-heavy, tres-electro pop.

A guy named Cosgrove in is charge, and we should be happy he isn't running a nuclear power plant. His mind flits from musical thought to musical thought, and it doesn't much matter if that makes sense to anyone on the outside. Abetting Cosgrove, mostly in the graphic presentation department (and there's plenty of that, too) is a guy named Mourad. He's responsible for supplying this disc and the bio to me. The bio, by the way, was printed on the back of a recycled Whalers schedule. I like.

Aggravating, but undeniably brilliant. Much of this disc is way-overdone in a dreadful self-indulgent way, but there are also many moments of sheer grace.

It's like reading someone's thoughts as they have them. Cosgrove doesn't bother to explain or even to tell us why he put this disc together. The liners are minimal, yin to the music's all-enveloping yang.

Inexplicable. Maddening yet glorious. Painful yet thrilling. A frightening glimpse of one man's mind.

Maktub
Khronos
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #229, May 2002

If one good thing came out of the 70s (in terms of music, anyway), it was the fertile cross-pollination of soul and rock. Sure, Sly and the Family Stone and a few other pioneers started this trend in the 60s, but the idea really took hold when Stevie Wonder went nuts (in a creative way). Then, late in the decade, Prince came along and started to get crazy himself.

Maktub likes to ply the extremes of this idea, merging very smooth vocals with often hyper-aggressive guitar riffage. Not unlike some of Faith No More's work, but with the approach coming from the soul, and not the rock, side of the coin.

And the guys aren't afraid to fully commit either way. There are some really sweet tunes here, and there are some heavy-duty rockers as well. Then there's a cover of "No Quarter" that subtly shifts the focus of the song. I like that a lot.

Mostly, though, this disc rolls. The fervent desire to stick to the groove is omnipresent. There's something cool going on here.

Malacoda
Cascade
(World Domination)
reviewed in issue #138, 7/7/97

Trance dub, if I had to limit the description of this sound to a particular style. But, thankfully, my job is to do the oppose and paint as full a picture as possible.

Plenty of the dub feel, with lots of electronic and ambient touches. Not to mention plenty of world beat snippets. All tossed together in the hopes of creating a coherent stew.

Which happens more often than not. The main groove of each song is simple and established early, leaving plenty of room for exploration. And as the base beats for different songs vary wildly, Malacoda whips through quite a variety of musical ideas.

Sometimes a bit too sterile, with wave after wave of excess sampled material floating past. But even accounting for such well-intentioned blunders, Malacoda shows it knows how to craft some intriguing music.

Malade de Souci
Novmmbr Aign EP
(CB Intl.)
reviewed in issue #218, 6/25/01

Inspired by Guns N' Roses's "November Rain?" Three guys from mid-Missouri playing wonderful no-wave releasing their record on a French label? I got this package in a plan manilla envelope with no return address--but a St. Louis postmark. It's hard to figure out where the put on ends and reality begins.

Don't go by the tracking on the disc. There aren't really 29 separate pieces on the disc--though there are more than 10. There is a lot of pounding and a good deal of howling. In a relatively artful fashion.

Reminds me a lot of early U.S. Maple. High on energy and creativity, low on structure. There's some really nice guitar work, when the boys decide to clean up for a moment. A lot of surprise for less than 10 minutes of music.

Malajube
Trompe-Loeil
(Dare to Care)
reviewed in issue #280, November 2006

There seems to be something about Canada--east or west, it doesn't seem to matter--that spawns a particular type of obsessive pop band. Whether we're talking about the New Pornographers or (insert any of ten or twenty other semi-famous Canadian acts) or Malajube, these bands seem to have similar places to rest their off-kilter perspectives.

Maybe it's only off-kilter if an American is listening. I dunno. These guys remind me most of the Wrens, but they're not quite so tightly wrapped. And there's that, well, Canadian wank to the stuff.

For years I've been trying to identify exactly what I mean by "Canadian wank." There's a certain amount of atonality and a slight disregard for melody, but something else. And it's not the fact that a number of songs here are sung in French.

I'm gonna have to spend more time thinking this out. Not that it's a big deal. I like stuff that takes interesting angles of attack. Malajube has the skill, intelligence and energy to impress just about anyone. Ten seconds of any song on this album ought to prove that.

Malevolent Creation
The Ten Commandments
(Roadracer)
reviewed in issue #4, 12/15/91

Another Burns production at Morrisound. Sorry, but it's becoming a cliche. There isn't anything exciting to listening to such things any more. At least not upon reading those words.

But a good band can overcame such limitations. Malevolent Creation comes close, but still is a little off for my taste. Often, on tracks like "Memorial Arrangements" and "Remnants of Withered Decay," they stick with a good groove. But then on many other songs they speed for speed's sake. You know, lots of guys can play songs at 220 bpm. It's the real band who can do that AND make it sound good.

Wait a minute, I'm berating a band that has the speed thing down pretty well. Malevolent Creation is one of the best speed bands, but it just sort of upsets me when obvious talent ignores the possibilities.

To sum up: this is a good record. I think with different direction and production, it could have been great. Malevolent Creation will be a force to reckon with.

Their first album established them as one of the tighter death metal bands around. This one is faster, harder, more grinding, and yes, better.

While many bands of this ilk sing the glories of decapitation and general mayhem, Malevolent Creation speak rather eloquently about the problem violence presents in our society. The fact that Brett Hoffman leaves his vocals untouched by machines means the kids just might get the point.

A second album already makes them veterans of the scene. And it moves them toward the top of the heap. Definite rising stars.

I loved their first album. The second was almost as good. Now this. It's like they've taken every death metal cliché and melded them into an album.

Too bad, because this is the sharpest production MC has enjoyed thus far. Three albums in a little less than three years is a lot, and I think the inspiration took a little dive this time out.

Better luck next time, guys.

Malformed Earthborn
Defiance of the Ugly by the Merely Repulsive
(Release-Relapse)
reviewed in issue #90, 10/23/95

That would be Danny and Scott of Brutal Truth and Shane from Napalm Death. In case you were curious.

The basic tracks were laid down three years ago, and then finished up earlier this year. Not like there aren't enough side projects out there, eh?

The reason this one got finished, though, is because it does truly threaten the very existence of life on Earth. Heavy, and yet still strangely club-accessible at times, Malformed Earthborn cranks into Dead World territory with purpose and intent.

Not exactly nice, but certainly exquisite. Malformed Earthborn tracks into the world of vicious industrial noise and helps blaze a trail. A sheer joy to experience.

See also Brutal Truth and Napalm Death.

Malhavoc
The Release
(Metal Blade/Epidemic)
reviewed in issue #8, 2/29/92

The one track on either of the Raw M.E.A.T. samplers that I really liked was Malhavoc's "Punishments." And this is my first full taste of James Cavalluzzo's industrial heaven. Or hell. However you wish to see it.

Much like Nine Inch Nails, Malhavoc is mostly a one-man show. Mr. C is the main guy behind the name. If you were feeling aggressive enough and your date frisky enough, you could dance to this stuff. Sorta like "Slavestate."

But much more, well, evil, I suppose. The music is a sparser, but almost darker. This stuff would of course go well with Skin Chamber, but don't overlook other industrial gods, like, say the new Young Gods. Or some good old-fashioned Einsturzende Neubauten.

Damn this is cool. And the "Punishments" ep is included with the ride. Who cares if he carves a pentagram on his chest if the music is this good?

This is much more club-ready than The Release, but it is also heavier and more coherent. Singer James Cavalluzzo filters his voice a little more, adding a few levels of distortion, but for the most part this is a very radio-friendly disc.

That doesn't mean commercial, though. An anti-violence theme permeates the disc, and Cavalluzzo's lyrics are insightful, not insipid. And this is not a Nine Inch Nails gig, where the guitars exist only as window dressing. There is real feedback and riff work, not to mention some great beats.

And there is a reason for the exceptionally dance-type grooves: a protest against their use to disguise stupid songs (like any rave piece). Always original; Great as before.

After a couple of releases on Epidemic licensed through Metal Blade, James Cavalluzzo and his Malhavoc cohorts have signed a nicer deal with the folks at Cargo.

The expected from Malhavoc: highly stylized industrial production, severe sonic pain, a concept of the music as art. This disc is intended to be the story of a certain MC.J.C. (you guess) and his view of life. And if you don't get it the first time, then there are alternate tracks orderings listed in the liners.

Pretentious or what? Yes, it is. But you can also listen on a purely superficial level and still get off on the music. If you thought Premeditated Murder was big step up for the band, get your hands on this. Malhavoc cycles through genres and emotions in the quest to explain…well, all this MC.J.C. stuff.

I thought after the last album that the band's improvement curve would be getting flat by now. But this is another huge jump forward. I won't underestimate again. This is sublime.

Malicious Onslaught
Rebellious Mayhem
(demo)
reveiwed in issue #1, 10/31/91

Fairly traditional sounding death metal. I like the fact the vocals are not run through any machines. The cassette I received had three tracks on it. All are certainly worthy of airplay. If you have any room for demos in your formats (and you should) give these guys a yell.

Two tapes from these guys, one of which may or may not be their album on Turbo Records (which would make it ineligible for demo status, but I can't tell, so why worry?).

Malicious Onslaught can play their instruments very well, and at times their techinical brilliance seems to overshadow any feeling, but not often.

This is better than the last tape I heard from them, and I can only assume they will improve even more.

Malkum & Chris
Walk On
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #213, 3/12/01

This would be Malkum Gibson and Chris Kleeman. Malkum handles the harp, Chris the guitar (acoustic and steel). They swap out on the vocals. The songs are generally old standards, though one of Gibson's also makes the cut (and fits right in).

The treat here is the playing. Gibson gives the harp a natural, easy-going sound, and Kleeman can pick with the best. Neither is a great singer, but both can be expressive. They don't embarrass themselves on that point.

Still, I'm not listening to the singing. I'm taking in the wonderful interplay between guitar and harp. Malkum and Chris could pick and blow all night and I'd be sitting still in rapt attention. Technically, they're great, but it's the emotion and presence they exude that makes this a transcendent experience.

Sometimes simplicity can bring the greatest joy. This album is just two guys sitting around, playing and singing. Anything more might well have spoiled the broth. As it is, this album has a resonance that few can match.

Another sterling acoustic blues set from Malkum Gibson (harp) and Chris Kleeman (steel guitar). A few classics, a few lesser-known oldies and a couple originals that fit in nicely. An all-around fine album.

The Mallik Family
Secret Colors
(Shalimar)
reviewed in issue #190, 11/1/99

There are times when my meager musical education comes back to haunt me. So I'm going to rely on outside sources for this info. The Mallik family has been performing in India for a couple hundred years, and for the last 50 or so various members have been traveling to other countries.

The Mallik Family specializes in Dhrupad singing. There are two ragas on this disc, and each is split up into three sections. The first raga is about spring, and the second concerns marriage and merriness. The basic structure sounds like variations on a theme, starting simply and moving into more and more complex interplay.

To my untrained ear, this sounds like astonishingly skilled singing and playing. I don't have any reference points, though, so I can't say with certainty if this is average or astonishing relative to other Dhrupad singing. In any case, the vocal combinations are rather haunting, even more as they wind up within each section.

I think I'm gonna quite while I'm ahead. This does rate highly on the coolness quotient, even if I'm not entirely sure what I'm hearing.

Yngwie Malmsteen
No Love Lost CD5
(Architect-Viceroy)
reviewed in issue #89, 10/9/95

Same old Yngwie. Way-overproduced pabulum, with the meister's usual fluid (and stale) solo work. And the singer has a really reedy voice. He shouldn't be singing this high.

Well, I can't say I'm surprised. The album can't be very good. But I'll slog through if called upon.

Yngwie's best moments have always been the ones where he shamelessly rips off Iron Maiden. And if you're gonna steal, you might as well steal from the best.

Unfortunately, the single (which I really ripped a couple issues ago) was taken straight from Warrant, which is a real step down in the inspiration department. Tracks like "The Only One" remind me of his failed stabs at Top 40 greatness in the late 80s.

And yet, the best of the bunch are songs like the first track, "Vengeance", which honestly sound better than anything on the current Maiden disc. Of course, that's really not a compliment. Malmsteen, as usual, changes gears relentlessly, but this album is much better than that single portended. It's no worse than what Polygram was releasing from him about 10 years ago. I didn't really like that, either, but it isn't complete shit. A lot better than I thought it would be.

Michelle Malone
Stompin' Ground
(Daemon)
reviewed in issue #245, September 2003

Sometimes it's pretty easy to guess an album won't suck. Michelle Malone (billed on the cover as "Moanin' Michelle Malone and the Low-Down Georgia Revue") has been one of the legendary women of rock for more than a decade, but you'd be surprised how little of her stuff can be found in a record store. A quick look at her discography will explain what I mean.

Anyway, she's got one of them whiskey-dipped (as opposed to soaked) voices that sounds ancient and yet ageless, and she sure knows how to wail the blues. And that's where her songs come from, though she's perfectly willing to rock out or go twangy or whatever else is necessary. Each of the songs here has that "instant classic" feel, a nice comfy sound that is impossible to create intentionally. The songs must be great, that's all.

And boy, are they. Malone refuses to stick to a particular mood or sound, and that makes this album lively and fun. The songs themselves take on a number of dark subjects, but Malone has a deft hand, and she never loses he wry sense of humor.

Like I said, you know some albums won't suck. This one shines. Malone is in fine form. In fact, this is probably the most consistent studio album she's made. That it's completely heartfelt helps immensely. This is the real Malone, and that's purty damned good.

Mama Tick
Horsedoctor 7"
(Skin Graft)
reviewed in issue #37, 7/31/93

They're pissed and out to get you. This is a vicious maelstrom of rantings and screams. Well, perhaps I am overstating things, but it sounds amazing.

I would put this in the category of Jesus Lizard or Alice Donut, just because those bands are pretty original as well. The command of noise here is simply astonishing.

As this is a Skin Graft release, there is also a great comic book inside. I mentioned this before, but it is such a cool idea, I had to say something again.

In a world that is increasingly random and chaotic (or one that seems that way), I guess we need bands like Mama Tick.

Every song threatens to relapse into some heavy metal hell, but the boys fight the good fight and keep things on a wackily noisy line. Just when things start to get accessible and easy, the band cranks out another vicious swipe at humanity. Civilization has been reduced to ruins once more.

The interesting part is that while to all outward appearances there are few musical skills at work here, I can hear some sort of inner peace, something that says these guys want to sound like this; in fact, this seeming chaos is a highly crafted art form.

Like Buzzov*en? Um, a little. Like the Jesus Lizard school? Well, they are from Chicago, so there is a little resemblance. But Mama Tick has found its own personal way of expressing horror at everyday life. Frightening, yet wonderful.

Mammoth Volume
Noara Dance
(The Music Cartel)
reviewed in issue #198, 4/17/00

Some Swedish guys get together and decide to play some jazzy stoner (Sab) rock. Jazz in the riff construction, not in the playing, which is kinda sloppy.

I'm not knocked out, but I must say that this is a nice spin on the whole genre. I think the playing and singing are kinda generic, but in a comfy sorta way.

What I'm trying to get at is that this just isn't that exciting. It can get tiring. But even at its worst, you know, it's okay.

This disc has just stumped me. I can't go anywhere with it. It's not the most inspiring thing in the world, but I oughta be able to say more about it than this. Sometimes an album is opaque to my ears. This is one of those.

Man from Fiery Hill
Magazine Theft Yeah
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #239, March 2003

I suppose perpetrator of this album might be considered a band, but the sounds here are often assembled as much as played. I'm sure it would be possible to replicate the stuff on this album live, but I doubt it would sound quite so cool.

It's not that the songs don't have traditional cores. They do. Each piece could be presented with just vocals and an acoustic guitar. But there are so many extras, from stylish processing of the vocals to a wide array of samples and other bit of found sound. The basics are good, but the additions make these songs truly inspired.

There's a whaleload of ambition in these here tracks, and it pays off. Man from Fiery Hill plays a poppy version of noodle rock--not entirely unlike Bad Astronaut. There are more tricks here, but the overall effect is almost as impressive.

And I've only scratched the surface on my initial listens. I can hear plenty of layers beneath that which I've already acknowledged. More personal time spent with this puppy ought to yield untold pleasures.

Man of Everything
Man of Everything EP
(demo)
reviewed in issue #134, 5/12/97

Brooding pop that never quite transcends the whole whining factor. I'd hardly accuse these guys of being insinscere, but their attempt to be emotionally-wrenching ends up simply dull.

The average demo production certainly helps pull this down, but honestly, the singing is just way too uninspiring to carry any of the songs. The music is alright, but I'd prefer to hear the playing tighten up a bit, be a little less lackadasical.

This tape just weighed me down like a truck of brick. I like the lyrics, but the rest of the package just couldn't match up.

Man or Astroman?
Deluxe Men in Space EP
(Touch and Go)
reviewed in issue #95, 1/15/96

One of the all-time "Love 'em or hate 'em" bands. I don't know anyone who sits on the fence with Man or Astroman?. And I'll be honest, I like the way these guys rip through the surf concept and tear out a new beach ball.

Six tunes, not quite ten minutes. Sounds like the boys are up to their usual tricks. A couple covers (I can identify neither of the original artists confidently) and four original tracks, including one from the upcoming album. All joyous bliss, as far as I am concerned.

I've never understood why some people bash Man or Astroman? so. Maybe you can tell me. This is better produced (Touch and Go will spend a little more than the other labels MOA has recorded for) than previous efforts, and the wall-of-sound is simply stunning.

Lots of fun. There's not much left to say. You get it or you don't. If you don't know, then give it a shot.

The artist's conception of surf-pop. Man or Astro-Man? has been cranking out albums for what seems to be ages. Mostly on very small labels, mostly out of the mass public's view. That part changes with the move to Touch and Go.

I mentioned it when I reviewed the EP, and I'll say it again: There's a big backlash against these folk out there, and I just don't know why. This is fun surf-pop with nice levels of electronic noise and amusing asides tossed in. How anyone could hate this with a passion is beyond me.

The Touch and Go cash has led to moderately better production (consistently good is a better description, I suppose), and the songs roll off the assembly line in perfect marching order. Okay, so the stuff is all out of the same milieu. It doesn't get boring, even over 15 tracks. I think that's the big test.

Plus, it's damned fun. Need any more reasons?

The legend lives on. Roboto-surf instrumentals (and the odd tune with vocals) that incorporate the latest in modern technology to give as old-fasioned a sound as possible. But of course; what else to expect from Man or Astroman?

I'm well aware that this band has almost as much of a backlash following as folks who like the music. I'm in the latter camp, mostly because of the, ahem, camp that always accompanies this fine music product. Read the fine print; it's as illuminating as ever.

The music has some fine print in it as well. You simply have to listen hard enough to find the humor. And even if you don't get it the first time, you've still listened to some cool sounds.

And if you don't get it, don't bitch at me. If I get one more "How can you like Man or Astro-Man? when you slag Frank Black?" e-mail, I'm gonna have to shoot someone or something. Sorry, it's a personal problem.

The first CD I've heard that opens up with a message from the disc itself. Ah, but these are the mysterious boys with the ray gun musical toys (I couldn't resist). Another venture into the mostly instrumental world of Man or Astro-Man?.

As usual, the guys seem to have put more effort into creating the packaging than the music (which is still up to its usual standards). The liners include lots of faux slides and a schematic flowchart showing how the music has come to this human's ears. I'm so relieved to finally understand.

To be serious for a moment, this is simply another good Man or Astro-Man? outing. Fans know what to expect: surf-type instrumentals with occasional vocals, and always added retro space age weirdness. I dig it. I'm aware of those who find it retarded.

I say those folks should lighten up. Everything surrounding the band may be a big-ass joke, but the music is solid. And that's all I ask of a band.

Once more with feeling. Surf instrumentals (with a couple vocal ringers) on a space-age theme. Man or Astro-man? has been kicking out these things for, well, almost forever it seems. Do the albums get better? Well, the production values are improved. Does the music change? Not really.

Though, if I may hazard an opinion, I'd say these songs are a bit more frantic and messy than the last couple of albums I've heard from these folks. A bit. There's also something of an industrial influence at times. That whole technology/outer space/computer gig.

I've said this before, and it's still true: Man or Astro-man? is one of those things which genuinely intelligent people can violently disagree about. Is it all a silly put-on, or is the music really, really cool?

I'll tell you this: I don't know. I like listening to the stuff from time to time, and I'm sure I'll be kicking this thing in and out of the discer a few times in the near future. Manna? Mother's milk? Nope. Maybe oyster crackers. The bacon-flavored ones. Something like that.

It sounds like the Chicago sound has finally rubbed off on Man or Astro-Man?. Sure, the excessiveness of the exercise is still around, but the surf sound is all but gone, drowned out in a more strident sort of riffage and plenty of noise touches.

So does this mean the guys are going for a grand statement? I don't think so. It is possible to find plenty of references to the more familiar sound, but I think the band just wanted to try something different. Not a bad idea, either.

A success, too, in that the rather expansive concept takes throbbing riffola and heavy distortion quite well. Rather than a soundtrack to a space opera, this album sounds like the score to an exploitive horror movie.

While I liked the old style, Man or Astro-Man? had to move on. And this is a good way to go. A real positive step for a band that I thought might be getting a bit stale. Not so, not so.

Man Scouts of America
Crash Course EP
(R.A.F.R.)
reviewed in issue #194, 1/24/00

Is this hardcore or metal? Yes. The Man Scouts have that metallic edge, though the music itself is still closest to hardcore. I get an early Cro-Mags feeling, although I'm a little uneasy with that reference.

What I'm happy to talk about is the pure power of this stuff. No doubts there. The Man Scouts pound out their songs with full attitude and amplitude. The vague tunefulness of the choruses doesn't hurt, either.

A pulsating thrill ride. Categorizing the sound is silly. It either works or it doesn't. And, well, it works for me. I'll be mainlining, thankyouverymuch.

Man Will Destroy Himself
consume...be silent...die EP
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #230, June 2002

There are those who forget that my little corner of the New South has something of a reputation for metallic hardcore. C.O.C. hails from these here parts, and there's plenty more where that came from. Take Man Will Destroy Himself.

The stuff can only be described as melodic extreme hardcore. Fast, brutal and yet somehow tuneful at the same time. Way too tasty for its own good. This is the kinda fare that could really go over to a mass audience.

A frightening thought, really. Not that millions of kids would buy this, but that if you push a sound to the edge you end up coming back to the middle. Politics is the same way, of course. But this review has nothing to do with politics, just kick ass music. MWDH has plenty of that.

Mandragora
Full Bloom EP
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #244, August 2003

Five songs from these boys. When I was in college, many of my favorite bands came from central Oklahoma (Flaming Lips, Chainsaw Kittens, etc.), and I imagine I'm generally more interested than most to hear what's coming out of there these days.

Mandragora sounds like college stoner rock to me. The sound isn't thick and fuzzy; it's more stripped down and straight-forward. But the themes and even style of riffage do fit. It's just that these boys try to do a little more with the concept.

And it works, often in ways I can't quite explain. Basically, these guys keep driving the songs forward. There isn't a slack moment on this disc, which is always a sign of a band that knows what it's doing. If these boys keep up their focus, they've got real potential.

Manic Hispanic
The Menudo Incident
(Doctor Dream)
reviewed in issue #78, 6/15/95

Artistically speaking, not much going on here. A bunch of your favorite Hispanic Doctor Dreamers (and a couple friends) slap stereotypical mannerisms onto punk chestnuts.

Of course, it is pretty fun, and maybe there is a point after all (but you do have to dig a lot). The guys can play (we knew that), and the production is nice and clean.

I don't think the novelty factor can be avoided for even a second, but you shouldn't worry about that. Just smile.

And by the way, in case you didn't know: the "menudo" in the title is a dish. The cheesy pop act was named after the word and not the dish, the latter being (I think) an American invention. Not unlike the burrito.

Something of a Hispanic all-star punk outfit (I'll leave it to you to figure out who is who), Manic Hispanic has decided to rework a number of punk classics in its own, inimitable fashion.

So "Come Out and Play" becomes "We Gotta Get 'Em Immigrated" and "White Man in Hammersmith Palais" becomes "Brown Man in O.C. Jail." There are nods to Rancid, Bad Religion, Descendents, the Ramones, X and Decline, among others.

Um, if you take this seriously then you've gotta get your head examined. The boys can play (duh) and the new lyrics are a scream. It's silly, even if there is something of a serious point behind what's going on here. Even so, it's much easier to win folk over with honey than vinegar.

Like I said, lots and lotsa fun. The kinda disc that's good for kicking back with a brew or two. Let the worries of the world drain away.

Manifold Splendour
My Night Time Career
(Bandaloop)
reviewed in issue #212, 2/19/01

Somewhere between Stereolab and the Wedding Present (though obviously with rather more normal lyrics), Manifold Splendour spins its seductively attractive web.

Veddy, veddy British, though the band is solidly Amurrcun. There's just this nice sheen of distortion washing over the Manchesterish rhythms that screams "Britpop."

And that feel is what drives me nuts here. Ten years ago, I hated stuff like this. Now I love it. So chalk this rave review up to good timing as much as anything else. The deal is, Manifold Splendour not only does the style well, it has written some songs that would sound great in any number of arrangements. The stuff is rock solid.

Too entrancing for its own good? Probably not. This is simply gorgeous music that shoots straight to the pleasure centers of my brain. Pretty, with plenty of backing substance. I'll dive in anytime.

Manishevitz
Grammar Bell and the All Fall Down
(Jagjaguwar)
reviewed in issue #180, 4/12/99

Songs that lurch in the night. Kinda haunting, gloomy bits, punctuated by very strange song construction. Most unusual is the way the tempo and general beat are wildly inconsistent. This adds to the uneasy feeling which is already prevalent.

And, strangely, this is just another of those "roots" type of projects. Roots as practiced by the likes of Leonard Cohen, perhaps. I can't quite get a handle on the stuff, and that's perfectly fine with me.

The production is relatively clean when it comes to the music in the foreground, but much of the background stuff gets some serious effect work. A good way to do this; definitely a spooky way. Just adds to the whole.

I'll stagger anywhere to this beat. Dark and brooding, but still, somehow, inspirational as well. Got to find the depths to climb out of them, I suppose. Just another way to find the blues.

Sorta the regular Manishevitz thing, if there is such a concept. That whole eclectic 60s-tinged sound with lots of jangly decorations. You know, horns, strings. flute, vibes, whatever works.

There's a collective spirit at the center of the Manishevitz sound, even if the songs are generally the work of Adam Busch. His cohorts spin the songs into spells that create their own space in time. Each piece is something like its own world of experience. The texture is so wonderful, it's easy to get lost.

And really, it's the feel of these songs that establishes the Manishevitz sound much more than the actual writing. The way that the different players interact with each other and with the ideas themselves. Like I said, there's this collective spirit that's hard to describe. It's just here.

Simply another album of songs from people who know how to make music that matter. Not much more to say than that, mostly because I can't pay a higher compliment. A must, in any language.

Mankind Liberation Front
Mankind Liberation Front
(Sol 3)
reviewed in issue #176, 2/8/99

Somewhere between Devo and Kraftwerk, with all the accouterments of the new electronic movement (breakbeats, dub, etc.). Mankind Liberation Front sounds like warm German pop music. Warm for being German, that is.

Though this was recorded in Hollywood. So I'm not going to take a guess as to where the folks behind MLF are from. Just noting the influences. The vocals are your standard techno rap, with a heavy emphasis on standard rhythms. Kinda droning, but in a pleasant way.

Bouncy, in a way you might not expect. Easy to fall into, though how deep the hole is is up for question. I dig though, no matter.

Enough unusual elements to lift MLF above the pack. Yeah, it'll work in the clubs, but that doesn't mean it's mindless.

Lynn Manning
Clarity of Vision
(New Alliance)
reviewed in issue #60, 8/15/94

The title is an irony, and a truth. Manning lost his sight in a barroom brawl 16 years ago. But it doesn't take sight to find poetic vision.

Manning's voice is sonorous and expressive. He at once provides you with his vision, and yet this is also an aggressive act against our own concepts of reality. In total contrast to the Vranich album, Manning makes you look outside, not inside.

He makes you see the world in its all-too-imperfect state. But instead of simply speaking in indignities, Manning also proposes, if not solutions, then at least ways of surviving this nasty plane.

Yes, you can read poetry. But the only way to understand what the poet really intended is to listen. To hear the poet relate his vision.

manRay 19
See You on the Ground
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #183, 6/7/99

The back of this disc has to be seen to be believed. It kinda shows the thought process of how bands go about the sequencing of a CD. Hard to explain more than that, except to say that there's a load of info there. Pretty cool.

The music is fuzzy and messy. Don't know what I expected from an UP (that's Upper Peninsula, for those not up on their Michigan nomenclature) band, but in any case I didn't expect this. Hyper drumming, languid shouts and heavy fuzz on the guitars.

As if the Chicago noise pop thing went into the backwoods, I suppose. The pop forms are there (deep in the background), the experimentation is basically in the drumming and the guitars and bass simply wail and moan. All with vaguely tuneful choruses. Really. You know, come to think of it, this does remind me a bit of the God Bullies and Thought Industry, a couple of southern Michigan bands. Vaguely. As much for the spirit of adventure as anything.

Energizing and exciting. manRay 19 may not have a huge commercial future, but this disc could become legendary. There is a lot here to appreciate and feed on. Highly recommended.

Michael Manring
(as Scott McGill Michael Manring Vic Stevens)
Addition by Subtraction
(Free Electric Sound)
reviewed in issue #218, 6/25/01

Been a while since I've heard solid prog jam fusion. This album certainly fulfills that need. Scott McGill handles the guitar work, Michael Manring rumbles around on his fretless bass and Vic Stevens blisters all manners of percussion. Jordan Rudess joins in on keys every once in a while, and producer Neil Kernon plays with some loops.

A group endeavor all the way around. Most of the songs are a series of solos built around a particular theme, though there is some nice interplay as well. The obvious camaraderie makes it quite apparent these guys like to play with each other.

Kernon has given the sound just a bit of a metal sheen, and that helps to give this album a slightly off-kilter feel. I mean, these guys are playing in a more rock style, but this is hardly bash 'n' thrash. Technical soul is the order of the day.

That's what really impresses me here. Yeah, these guys can play. But it's the feel, the tenor of the sound, the way true ideas are expressed by that playing which really knocks me out. Artistry, in a word. This isn't a sterile prog project. It's three (or four or five) friends talking. And that makes all the difference in the world.

Jono Manson
Little Big Man
(Paradigm)
reviewed in issue #156, 4/6/98

The little sticker on the front has a review that claims if not for Jono Manson, such wonderful acts as Joan Osbourne, Blues Traveler and Spin Doctors would never have come to the forefront of the national consciousness. Am I missing something, or is that a seriously backhanded compliment?

Luckily for Manson, he doesn't truck in cheap syncopation and dreadful lyrics. Instead, he has a nice habit of infusing some actual soul and country grit into white-boy blues licks. Yeah, this stuff can get kinda sugary, but generally not to an annoying level.

Nor does he reach any great heights. This is middle-of-the-road, in an "alternative" context. Manson doesn't take many chances, but he's a good enough craftsman to sell what's he's got. Can't argue too much with that.

Nothing astounding, but better than I figured after reading that note on the front. Manson kicks out his tunes with little fanfare, but he's got his heart in the right place, just behind his voice.

Frank Mantooth
Sophisticated Lady
(Sea Breeze)
reviewed in issue #97, 1/29/96

Mantooth (who produced this album and arranged seven of the 10 pieces) has put together some great musicians to help him realize his often latin-laced big band visions of standards and jazz classics (some of which were written for big band, some not).

While his latin arrangements are certainly on the better side of taste than Perez Prado, Mantooth succeeds when he sticks to more traditional arrangements. The glitzy take on Coltrane's "Moment's Notice" is alright, but all that big band flash takes away from the beauty of the music itself.

And that carries over to much of the rest of the album. Mantooth seems to have stuck to his vision, but I don't like it. Too much seems calculated for a more commercial audience, sacrificing the original heart of the songs for popular success. The rendition of "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" is the best thing on the album. There wasn't much to cut out, and Mantooth's instrumental arrangement features his able musicians well. Unfortunately, most of the other pieces required more surgery than toning, and Mantooth's ear for "happy jazz" worked a little overtime.

Manute Soul
Atlas CD5
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #171, 11/9/98

Trying to be a funky little rock band, Manute Soul doesn't really make its parts fit together terribly well. Often enough, the vocals and the music just don't match up. Either is good enough on its own, but they don't fit running at the same time.

I can hear attempts at the whole Spin Doctors groove thing, but Manute Soul can't decide whether to be excessively self-indulgent or go for the hooks. Pick one. Stick with it. Both just muddle the music.

There's some fine musicians in this band, and the singing is just fine. At some point, though, Manute Soul has to figure out just what it wants to do. Perhaps then it will be able to impress more.

Harry Manx
Dog My Cat
(Northern Blues)
reviewed in issue #221, 9/3/01

Harry Manx plays slide guitar and harp. For the most part, this album was recorded live. The notes say there were a few guitar overdubs. Nonetheless, the feel is certainly authentic.

Mostly originals, with a couple of Muddy Waters tunes and a couple other covers. Manx has a light touch on his guitar and harp, and his voice, while not a traditionally raspy blues instrument, still manages to convey the ring of authenticity.

While not overly sentimental, Manx prefers to stay on the brighter side of the blues. Contemplative, yes, but not down and out. The production is similarly breezy and simple, almost transparent. Sounds like I'm in the room with Manx and he's playing just for me.

Funny how so few producers can manage such a trick. Also funny how many blues musicians try to plumb this territory and end up sounding trite. To repeat myself once again, Manx sounds like the real deal. These songs sing when he plays them.

The success of Dog My Cat seems to have really opened up Harry Manx's creative juices. He digs even deeper into his bag of Indian influences, using his Mohan veena on more than half the songs here. And he works much harder to meld those influences into a traditional blues sound.

And so introducing "The Thrill is Gone" (one of only four covers on this album) with a short round from a raga and then blending that raga into B.B. King's classic lead picking sounds just about perfect.

What also works so well is Manx's acoustic setting for all these songs. His own writing is based as much in folk as it is in the rural blues--which only makes sense. And when he takes on a well-worn tune ("Thrill," say, or "Foxy Lady"), he makes it his own. In a most spectacular fashion.

For some people, success leads to sloth. For others, like Manx, it helps to fully refine an artistic vision. There's no one out there that sounds at all like Harry Manx, though I'm sure plenty of folks would love to be able to do what he does.

Many Axes
2 Many Axes
(pfMENTUM)
reviewed in issue #260, December 2004

If the name of the band (a better term might well be trio or ensemble) didn't tip you off, these three folks each play a musical line or two, with the general concept of the song falling along somewhere along the intersections--or axes (the plural of axis).

Or maybe not. I'm was just taking a guess. But this stuff is improvisational fare, and it wouldn't work if the three didn't manage to create enough points of intersection to create some sort of synthesis. Many Axes is always careful to make sure that it's pieces do, in fact, stick together. Even when the ideas are as ephemeral as a spring breeze, they have enough cohesion to keep the piece moving.

Susan Rawcliffe and Scott Wilkinson play wind instruments--most of them instruments Rawcliffe has made herself. Brad Dutz plays whatever percussion makes sense for the song. This sort of free-wheeling approach to instrumentation and song construction doesn't translate into chaos, but rather a decided sense of wonder.

There is an otherworldliness to this album. These folks