S.O.D.
Live at Budokan
(Megaforce-PLG)
reviewed in issue #21, 9/30/92

Why is this great album so far back in the issue? Well, all of you are going to play it, for one reason. Another is that over half of the songs on here have been released before, and the covers aren't really the reason for the album. They're funny, but not anything special.

I know they put the little asterisk after "Kill Yourself" as a joke, but still. This is the true soundtrack to the movie Bob Roberts (a must-see). In the words of a friend of mine, "Somewhere in there it stopped being funny and started getting scary." There are idiots who believe every word of "Speak English or Die." Like Pat Buchanan, a real Nazi for our times. Enjoy the joke, but realize some people believe the bullshit.

Sabalon Glitz
Ufonic
(Trixie)
reviewed in issue #69, 1/31/95

Meandering pop that, when aided by a cool moog organ, gets really spooky.

Most of the tunes are somewhat psychedelic enough, with most of the ethereal effects coming via the regular instruments and not their feedback. The mix keeps everything wild competition, and it takes a few listens to figure out just what the hell is going on here.

Which is a great way to do things. Music shouldn't be easy. And while the average listener could pass by Sabalon Glitz and say, "Hey, that's pretty cool", if she actually sits down and listens to the disc, her reaction might be even more ecstatic.

I like the way the band puts things together. I wonder if it can be replicated live, but for now, I have to say this is a really wondrous album.

Sabot
[sabo]
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #156, 4/6/98

Similar in construction and intent to the Orifice album reviewed earlier, Sabot features much stronger songwriting and a brilliantly realized studio sound. The songs rely much less on the percussion and instead utilize a wide array of wind and string instruments as the main accompaniment.

There's also a nice emphasis on sound experimentation. Check out the intro to "Live", for starters. The soundscape behind the lilting vocals is often stunning. In fact, the musical construction of Sabot songs is the best thing on this fine disc.

No weak points that I can hear. Alright, if you're not a fan of the whole post-Dead Can Dance movement, you might not like this, but this is some brilliantly realized dark music. Spooky and inviting, exactly as it should be.

Top-notch in all ways. Sabot has crafted a gorgeous and immensely satisfying album. Beauty comes in many packages, and this is one of them.

The Saboteurs
Espionage Garage
(American Pop Project)
reviewed in issue #152, 2/9/98

Led by Mark Brodie (of Mark Brodie and the Beaver Patrol fame, if you want to call it fame), the Saboteurs are three English-speaking guys who live in Japan and play in a surf pop band.

I've got the same problem with this disc as I did with the Beaver Patrol record, and that is that the songs just don't have enough fire in them. They're perfectly good tunes, played with workmanlike skill and the requisite amounts of reverb. But I don't hear any passion, and that's pretty important when you're playing stuff that lends itself to generic qualities rather quickly.

Well, the spoken introduction at the start didn't help, either. But putting aside that dreadful (and embarrassing) moment, the album just never picks up steam. Surf stuff for stoners seems a bit too, well, hackneyed, but it fits well enough. Too laid back for me.

The Saboteurs are not horrible. In fact the playing is nice, and I rather like the sound they got. But the tunes need more oomph. Not volume, but intensity. As it is, this would lie at the top of (but still, a part of) the anonymous surf pile that sits in the corner.

Sacrifice
Apocalypse Inside
(Metal Blade/WB)
reviewed in issue #36, 6/30/93

Incorporating some of the riff styles and drum work of death metal, but mostly sticking to a thrash base, Sacrifice sound a little confused much of the time.

Actually, I'm sorta bummed, because I remember liking the advance tape at least a little. Now, they do get a little better as they go into a semi-doom mode. At least it's a little more coherent. More work is definitely needed.

Sacrifice Isaac
Tough Row to Hoe
(Acme Recording Co.)
reviewed in issue #122, 11/4/96

A few years back, Lawrence, Kansas got to be known as "Seattle Jr.". Bands like Paw and Stick got signed and released albums. My only problem is that these pseudo-grunge bands generally weren't very good.

I thought the time had passed, and some bands in the Lawrence/Kansas City are were actually cranking forward with a whole new sound. Unfortunately, Sacrifice Isaac is mining the old territory.

And it's even old style as far as grunge goes. There's just nothing new or original here, and this sound has been done to death. Repeatedly. Now, for a self-recorded album, this sounds quite good. Everything is very sharp; this is high-quality production. I wish I could say the same about the music.

I hate to run down bands from my old stomping grounds, but that's the way it goes.

Still hoeing the grunge path, Sacrifice Isaac issues forth a somewhat evolved sound. Evolved in that the band has discovered some of the joys of emo, though those moments are quickly eclipsed by truly excessive pounding.

Indeed, I can find many small bits and pieces in this sound I like. But the overall temptation to wail away with full sonic abandon does not serve the more delicate pieces well at all. Therešs no dichotomy; Sacrifice Isaac is about loud music all the time. It just slips u once in a while.

Well-produced, at least to say that the music comes across very well, with a decent mix for the grungelism. The band has moments where it proves it can do things other than rehash Black Sabbath riffs, but those tend to get washed away in the excess.

Išm confused. Is this still a viable commercial sound? I didnšt think so, but I donšt pay a whole lot of attention to such things. On any other scale, the stuff in general isnšt particularly interesting. I wish the band would give in to more of its "strange" notions. That would make for much better music.

Sadaharu
Resist. Revolt. Reclaim.
(CI Records)
reviewed in issue #288, August 2007

Sadaharu has always reminded me of the Refused, except not so self-consciously arty. The power, the anger, the blistering guitar licks...there's an awful lot to like.

Best of all, these boys don't know how to let up off the throttle. The songs themselves have somewhat sparse arrangements, but the rhythms pulsate ceaselessly. This album is constantly in motion.

And while not arty, Sadaharu doesn't really stick to any conventional songwriting structure. The songs are all over the place, kinda like Rage Against the Machine at its best. And rather than get stuck in repetitive riffage (as Rage did more often than not), these guys are always changing things up.

Never a dull moment. Never a quiet moment, either. Sadaharu doesn't go for introspection. This album is all about anger and action. I can get into that. In a big way.

Sadus
Vision of Misery
(R/C-Roadracer)
reviewed in issue #13, 5/15/92

It is their best album yet. That said, even with the excellent rhythm work put forth by Steve DiGiogio on bass and Jon Allen on drums, this pales next to labelmates Defiance.

On the other hand, this is a fine piece of work when considered independently of that. It really is too bad Roadracer had to release two fine thrash releases at once.

At times this gets truly inspired, especially in the middle of the album. I really enjoyed listening to it.

I'm sorry. I just finished listening to Defiance for the fourth time in two days, and my senses are a bit distorted. This is good. Play it.

Saeta
Resign to Ideal
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #234, October 2002

Rarely has grand music come from such understated arrangements. Saeta relies on acoustic guitar, piano and strings, and yet these songs have a power unmatched by the most ear-throttling bands.

Some credit, certainly, must go to Kramer. He provides Saeta with the perfect setting for its songs. But the bulk of the acclaim must go to those songs themselves, and by extension, the writers.

Sure, the lyrics are poetic. Moving, even. But the music is what drives everything. Deliberate and utterly without subtext, the simplicity of the arrangements is what, in the end, helps to underscore the complexity of what Saeta is trying to get across.

Simply beautiful songs. A pure pleasure to hear. Saeta isn't likely to become a buzz band or anything like that. These songs are too good, too real, for that to happen. Those in the know, however, will be eternally grateful for the experience.

I was hanging out in Albuquerque the other day talking to a cello player, and I remarked that cello rock was a coming thing. It was kind of a joke, but there are a number of bands that utilize cello as an integral part of their sound. Saeta, a most unusual guitar-piano-cello trio, is one of the most striking.

In some ways, the music isn't all that surprising. The folks picked two covers for this album--"Grand Canyon" from the Magnetic Fields's 69 Love Songs and the Smiths's "Last Night I Dreamt that Somebody Loved Me"--which fall right into the band's strengths. Not the fact that the songs are moderately overwrought romantic songs written by gay icons, of course, but simply intricate pieces of music that lend themselves to a sense of drama and the judicious use of strings.

Or am I falling all over myself here? Probably. Albini did the production again, and this is yet another stellar job. The man isn't about noise, he's about sound, and this album sounds great. In particular, the weaving of the acoustic guitar, cello and piano--sounds which don't always work well together--is impressive. Albini manages to keep the core sounds of each instrument at the fore while not overshadowing any other element. This may sound simple, but it really isn't.

Beautiful. Simply. Without adornment. A delight for the ears and the heart. All that and gunches more. Saeta is part of a group of interrelated bands along with Ms. Led, Rope Inc. and Roxy and Clark. All are pretty damned good, and this album continues that string of success. Most impressive.

The Safes
Family Jewels
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #249, January 2004

Just some brothers named O'Malley from Chicago (or thereabouts). Playing power pop that ranges from basher punk to rockabilly to dreamy 60s stuff (sometimes even in the same song), these boys simply refuse to let this album get dull.

There is something of a stock Safes sound, though, and it's not too far off from the more tuneful moments of Screeching Weasel or the Queers. Which does, in fact, make a lot of sense. The other bits are a fine window dressing touch, but that crunchy core is what keeps these songs moving.

The production is shiny, but not excessively so. The pieces pop out easily, and the mix gives every part the proper space. Nothing mindblowing, but good enough to impress me.

As do the Safes. Some folks know how to do punk well. Some even manage to lift themselves above the faceless masses. The Safes accomplish both, kicking out a most enjoyable album along the way.

Saga (French)
Face a Face
(Tinder)
reviewed in issue #186, 8/16/99

Obviously, not the Canadian power rockers. This Saga is a Frenchman (singing in French), sending out cool-sounding songs. Yeah, this is sorta cheesy pop (in the sense of "popular") stuff, but it just sounds better in French. Sue me.

It doesn't hurt that the music is relatively complex and involved. Everything still trends toward the middle, but at least it's fun. As long as guys semi-whispering French don't get your hackles up.

Really, Saga does a lot with his sound. He keeps the same basic notions going throughout, but he's not afraid to add a little here and there. Just enough to spice up the mix.

One of the more mainstream things I've reviewed in a while, but I gotta say I had some fun. Must be that expatriate fantasy I've been cultivating for years. Or something.

Saga (Canadian)
House of Cards
(Steamhammer-SPV)
reviewed in issue #218, 6/25/01

As in the Saga? Canadian contemporaries of Triumph and such? As soon as I heard the first note, I knew. Yes. That Saga. The original lineup, even. That's pretty impressive.

Not much has changed. The songwriting is fairly sophisticated (kind of a "prog lite") for pop metal, but it's hard to really start pounding when you use so many keyboards.

I'll say this: If you still pull out Worlds Apart now and again and think "Hey, that's not so bad," this album will impress. If you found that kinda stuff pretentious and a little tedious back then, well, stay away. The formula hasn't changed that much.

It's hard to believe there was a big movement of bands that sounded like this (the aforementioned Triumph, Marillion, even Rush to a certain extent) almost 20 years back. It's not that this is bad. Actually, I fit into the former category I discussed above. But it's strange to think that a million people would buy an album like this. Kinda cool. Thing is, it's not gonna happen now, no matter how good this album is.

Sages of Memphis
Year of the Elephant
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #131, 3/31/97

A dose of that college-boy funk a la Billy Goat, Trip Shakespeare or Blues Traveler, though with a level of complexity that all those bands lack.

Sharply produced, Year of the Elephant flips though more range than the average band of this sort, and the various background textures add immensely to the overall sound. Most impressive is the virtuosity exhibited on all sorts of stringed instruments. Astonishing at times.

The basic construction of the songs is still bogged down in that form I mentioned at the top. This reliance on just a few rhythms is a problem, though the band does overcome it somewhat with all the other work.

And perhaps this is better for the average consumer. Sages of Memphis can offer both artistic experimentation and a sense of the familiar. I wish the band was a bit more "out there", but I'll happily settle for this. I never know I could like this sort of thing.

Sahara Hotnights
Jennie Bomb
(Jetset)
reviewed in issue #234, October 2002

A Scandinavian version of the Runaways. Perhaps you might prefer a Swedish Go-Gos. Whatever you want to call it, this foursome knows how to crank out tight licks and ragged, garagey hooks.

More Runaways than Go-Gos, but better produced than either. The sound is stripped down, but that only enhances the pedal-to-the-metal songwriting style. These tunes burn rubber and never look back.

Not yer typical Jetset signing, and to be honest I smell something of a need to catch up to a trend here. Maybe I'm all wet there, but while Sahara Hotnights are perfectly enjoyable (and even moreso on repeat listens), there's this "next big thing" kinda feel to the entire package.

That doesn't do justice to the band, which is quite simply four young women who know how to bash out songs in a most appealing fashion. Which is more than enough to bring a smile to my face.

Four good-looking Swedish chicks who rock? Of course they got the major-label deal. But you know something? This is their best album--by far. Yeah, the whole thing is utterly throwaway, but it's much more fun than their earlier work. That plastic "big time" sound is exactly what the girls needed. Solid and entertaining.

Saint Chaos
Total Chaos
(demo)
reviewed in issue #4, 12/15/91

Bob sent me a tape containing Saint Chaos' two most recent demos, "Contents Under Pressure" and "Obsessed With You," plus a couple more songs. The sound is very crisp and tight, a lot more so than I expected. Their sound lies somewhere between Fates Warning, early Queensryche and not a little Judas Priest. Sounds I can definitely get into. The only thing holding these guys back from a major deal is their refusal to become Bon Jovi sound-alikes (hear me, Poison and Motley Crue?). If they keep up this level of performance, they should have no problem finding ink in the near future. One hint, though, guys: ditch the stupid nicknames. If I had a beer for every band who has a guitarist named "Fingers"...

Sorry so little space, but you know Saint Chaos from the last review. Still good, heavy, commercial metal. If you didn't score any earlier demos, do yourself a favor and play this one.

Saint Kristofer
Saint Kristofer EP
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #210, 1/8/01

Saint Kristopher is the project of songwriter Chris McCarty. Probably his most famous song is "Swingtown," a collaboration with Steve Miller. That song is here, as are three other pieces McCarty wrote with Miller. The other two are right in that same vein.

In other words, a set of breezy, bluesy country-rock songs that subtly make an impression. McCarty doesn't have much of an edge, but his songs are excellent illustrations of the writing craft. He takes basic forms and then shifts them just enough to put his own spin on an idea.

A bit too easy-going for me personally, I guess, but I have to admire McCarty's songwriting skills. He knows what he's doing, and on this disc he sells his pieces quite well.

St. Monday
St. Monday
(demo)
reviewed in issue #28, 2/14/93

If Eddie Vedder got strung out on PCP, killed Les Claypool and replaced him as Primus' frontman, well, that wouldn't be weird enough.

A hybrid of grunge, funk, fuzz and some of the stranger lyrics you will ever hear. These guys are very odd, but a lot of fun. One of the songs on this tape, "Fonzie," was an airplay staple at KCOU late last fall. Because, as you know, "All the girls wanna fuck Fonzie..."

Or as another goes, "It's all heavy shit to me...". Eminently quotable, even if some folk wouldn't play it on the air, this comes with my highest recommendation.

One nice thing about these guys is you cannot put them in any category. The demo I reviewed last spring had four almost completely different songs on it, and the same goes for this.

The A-side is a fast, pop-punk kinda thing. Accessible, yet high-quality. The flip reprises the seventies wank guitar they used on their earlier tune "Fonzie", but this is more of serious funk grind.

Despite my personal connection to these folk, I must say objectively that they are about the most creative and cool-sounding unsigned band around. Hopefully some over-eager A&R freak won't fuck with their weirdness just to sell a few records.

St. Thomas
I Hate... Part One CD5
(Tony Nicole Tony)
reviewed in issue #31, 3/31/93

A reporter said he didn't know if this was a major release or what. I really don't either, but I've never heard of Tony Nicole Tony Records, and it came in an envelope from Skateboard Marketing, which if I remember correctly is Munsey Ricci's gig.

This is a cool single, kinda glam for all of you to be adding, but then again who am I to say anything about that. I liked it a lot.

If there's an album coming or what, I can't say. This is the one time I wish there had been a little press along for the ride. Oh well.

After a (deserved) friendly lecture from Munsey, I found out that Tony Nicole Tony (never refer to it as TNT, I learned) is indeed an indie with major connections. Fair enough. Now to judge the music:

Well, the single left me with the impression this could be glam or real heavy. It turned out to be glam, on the weird side.

I think I almost liked just the single better. The album is rather pretentious, and it doesn't come close to meeting the goals it seems to set for itself.

I like acoustic guitar work as much as the next guy, but when you start off acoustic and go heavy in every song, it gets real old real fast.

Potential, but not realized at all here.

Saint Vitus
C.O.D.
(Hellhound-Nuclear Blast)
reviewed in issue #32, 4/15/93

Co-produced by Don "Breaking the Chains" Dokken. After that sinks in, I'll be back.

Of course, this is a rather tame NB release. The call and response between vocals and guitars is reminiscent of Circus of Power (again) and Masters of Reality, both of whom have new major label albums out.

Not to be really rude or anything, but I can't find a shred of originality wandering anywhere in this disc. It's a good representation of seventies anthem-metal, but I thought we are all past that. If you can't improve on the past, leave it alone.

This is alright, but just barely.

No, of course this is a re-issue. Some bands apparently become legendary just by sheer persistence, because St. Vitus doesn't really have a load of talent.

A load of something though. The production here is reminiscent of the first Sabbath albums (and who would really want that now?), and the songs seem to be some sort of attempt to make a wimpy doom sound.

I simply struggle to find anything worthwhile in what these folk do. If you can explain to me why St. Vitus is even worth the time of day, please do. I'm very curious.

Salmon
Paco... Drop the Chicken
(Red Ant)
reviewed in issue #132, 4/14/97

Thick-as-mud funk/rap with enough guitars to keep the kids happy. The sound is damned hard to get through, but the overall effect is pretty impressive.

A lower-key, lo-fi version of Rage. Well, the guitars are in funk, not metal, mode, and Lawrence Martinez seems intent on making his vocals understandable. Both are improvements, in my book.

The more I hear, the more I like. Instead of getting dreary and repetitive, Salmon kicks the sound around different rhythm cores and even drop down low every once in a while. My goodness, some real feel for good music here.

Don't get me wrong; Salmon gets as raucous as anyone. But the abusively thick sound helps drive the music to a place I've never quite been before. Fun and thought-provoking at the same time. Here's something to watch.

Sam Black Church
Superchrist EP
(Taang!)
reviewed in issue #87, 9/18/95

One listen to that Into Another-meets-Poison Idea sound, and you know it's Sam Black Church. While this stuff is most often mentioned in metal circles, SBC is still a legitimate hardcore band. But man, that bass is heavy!

Just about what I expected from the disc. The boys crank up the speed now and again to keep things interesting, and, yes, this is a more metal outing than before. But see the note above.

Sam Black Church doesn't have the ability to really make life-changing statements about the state of the universe. But who asked 'em to? This stuff is fun and really loud. Much better enjoyed at the higher volume levels.

My goodness, these guys have been around so long they're almost venerable. It's been ages since I head anything from the boys (they've gone up and down the ladder in the intervening three years), but, you know, the formula is still intact.

If these guys weren't the progenitors of the Boston metalcore sound (distinctly different from the NYC school), they're pretty close. I hear a bit more songwriting and somewhat less power in the grooves (the songs sound a bit more calculated, that's what I'm saying). I'm not sure if I like it better, but it's pretty good, nonetheless.

I'll tell ya, the band looks old in the liner photo. And perhaps this is how the music ages. Just a bit more serious, a bit more contemplative. At least as introspective as this sound can get, which isn't much, really.

Fans will definitely eat this up, and while I'm not knocked out, I've got to say that this is a good album. I'll have to let the sound grow on me a bit (I still can't quite identify what it is that bugs me, but there's something odd somewhere), but that's not a bad thing. I'm just kinda amazed this album exists at all.

Samael
Blood Ritual
(Century Media)
reviewed in issue #27, 1/31/93

As a rule, I don't espouse any religion. So I can review Christian, Buddhist, Islamic and yes, Satanic recordings without any problem. The lyrics are a little silly, but they are well-written, which beats the hell out of Deicide, for sure. I mean, the fact they use metaphors alone says something...

The music really helps here, too. It shows a style and intelligence not found in many bands, Satanic or otherwise. Kinda like comparing the fashion sense of some dork in flannel to a guy in an Italian suit.

On this album, itss the music that gets to me. Each song, I hear myself muttering "Damn, that's good..." I must say (put on Ed Grimley mask) I don't do that very often. This is one record that gets a rave based solely on itsstyle. It simply blows me away.

It doesn't matter what kind of loud music you like; Samael will leave you satiated.

San Agustin
Amokhali
(Family Vineyard)
reviewed in issue #198, 4/17/00

Three guys who make rather haunting, introspective music that often sounds like it's on the verge of collapse. Often long songs that aren't nearly as interminable as their length might indicate.

Yeah, San Agustin does remind me of Dirty Three (without the violin). These guys are bit more experimental and out on the edge, but there is some resemblance. Probably why I kinda dig the disc so much.

It's so easy to get lost in the songs and start seeing them from the inside out. This does lend somewhat of a new perspective, but in my opinion, that's what music like this is all about. There's no need to apologize for its complexity or its seeming rejection of reality. Just get inside and follow your mind.

These songs tell stories. Some are happy, some are sad and some just are. Actually, they're all three at once. San Agustin does a hell of a job in putting complete musical thoughts together. Most folks just skim across the surface. Albums like this plumb the depths.

Suzanne Langille has often recorded albums that rejected any conventional sort of form or structure. I didn't like those much. That's probably a failing on my part, but also a question for the past. I really like Langille's work when she's got a band behind her that has a wee bit of melody in what it does. Her blues work with Loren Connors, for example.

And while San Agustin is hardly the rowdiest outfit around, there is a commitment to melody. Understated, certainly, but a commitment nonetheless. And when Langille drapes her voice over the sonic landscapes painted by the land, the result is a more complete picture than might have been imagined before.

This is mostly San Agustin, with Langille on the edges. But her work is integral to every song on which she sings. Whether as a counterpoint, a continuation of a theme or a simple exclamation point, her voice completes the work.

A fine collaboration that brings out the best of all artists involved. There's plenty of ideas here to savor over and over again.

Sanctum
New York City Bluster
(Cold Meat Industry)
reviewed in issue #198, 4/17/00

What happens when gothic industrial experimentalists tour America and decide to record a live album at CBGBs? Well, this happens.

Sanctum hasn't stuck with one sound during its career, and the songs here reflect that. There are the lush, abstract "soundscapes," the crunchy industrial rockers and a few spacy things in between.

The more abstract pieces are the ones that the notes say could be part of the new Sanctum studio effort. The one true "space" effort is part one of the 50-minute composition "Parca Pace." Serious Floyd overtones, even while sticking to a spartan gothic ideal.

You know, if these guys actually sound like this live (the notes don't mention whether any "fixing up" was done in post-production), I'm very impressed. The sheer breadth of sound is breathtaking, and the quality of execution is impressive. Even if there was some "touching up" done, this is a high quality effort.

Lisa Sanders
Life Takes You Flying
(Earth Music-Cargo) reviewed in issue #192, 12/6/99

Lisa Sanders specializes in a form of music that seems to be fading from view. That whole folk rock-pop thing, in a very seventies style. Yeah, there are people like Sheryl Crow and Sarah McLachlan, but they're slicker and just have a slightly different feel.

Sanders has more of a timeless sound, which makes it even more difficult to describe. There's nothing distinctive here, just the solid songwriting and impassioned singing. Some might say that's enough.

And it is close. I will quibble a bit with the occasional heavy hand, mixing the acoustic guitars a bit high for my taste from time to time. Still, if this had been a major label, the bombast would be much worse.

A major label is Sanders' dream, and she certainly deserves a shot. She can write and she can sing. With the right push, she could easily fly.

Erik Sanko
Past Imperfect, Present Tense
(Jetset)
reviewed in issue #221, 9/3/01

Just when I think I've heard about everything I thought possible from the minimalist singer-songwriter crowd, here comes Erik Sanko. His songs are simple, direct and awfully spooky.

The songs key off rhythms, generally Sanko's sharp guitar playing. The production has given these songs a ringing quality--a lot of work went into making this album sound "small."

The songs are just gorgeous. There's a hint at a lush sound, and that merest of notions really colors these songs. Sanko's lyrics are subtle, but not nearly as much as his music. The stuff creeps up from behind to do its dirty work.

A real find. Well, that'd be true if this wasn't on Jetset. I think by now the secret's out about that outfit. Oh well. Erik Sanko more than lives up to the expectations set by his label. The quality and emotional impact couldn't be more impressive.

Sapien
Under the Dark End Sky
(Kazmodawn)
reviewed in issue #220, 8/13/01

Sapien is Vincent Serati. All by himself. Serati is obviously a big fan of early 80s technopop (emphasis on the minimalist German style), though he updates the sound with more rap-like spoken word vocal bits and a more emotionally involved feel.

Still, the stuff takes me back. And in a good way. Serati crafts seductive beats and drops some great keyboard melodies right in. When the music gets really involved, it sounds more than a little like the dark wave techno movement of the mid 90s. Which, of course, had its roots ...

Precisely. There are very few truly new ideas. What you've gotta do is use the past to make good music today. Serati has chosen a somewhat esoteric set of predecessors, but he sure knows how to make the stuff shine.

First rate fare. There are a thousand legit reasons to make fun of techno, from idiotic, incessant repetition to moronic melodies and more. Sapien doesn't fall into any of the traps. Instead, this disc shines from within with its own light.

Sarkoma
Completely Different
(Grind Core)
reviewed in issue #15, 6/15/92

Opening with the final strains of Sousa's "Liberty Bell March" (the Monty Python theme) and John Cleese's famous line (hence the album title), is a bit cliche. But I have always appreciated those who steal from Python, especially Creaming Jesus's song "Preacher."

Only six songs here, and it's a real shame. This is some fine, grooving, thrash. Yes, a little funk or something, something that makes it innately danceable. Not just slamming, but real, synchronized motion. A question: why do both GC bands reviewed in this issue have misspelled names? Doesn't matter.

I hope there guys release a full-length one of these days. This truly is fine music. It is the finest moment so far for the Grind Core label (just edging Crowbar).

There was a time I though Sarkoma was the only great band with Red Light. Now they have some company, but this keeps up the tradition of their EP of two years ago.

A little slicker production here, but the musical creativity still abounds. Sarkoma still manage to take stale metal conventions and twist them into a great sound.

Waiting impatiently for the full disc.

Their first EP was rather great, straight-forward hard rock dabbling with some funk.

Well, now it's hard rock, a little funk, and more than a little Skin Yard/Melvins. That's distressing on its face.

Dig in, though, and you'll find those grungy riffs doing things they're not supposed to, like changing during a song. Sure, I wish Sarkoma hadn't colored itself with a trend, but this isn't that far from where they were. And as you get to the end of the disc, you find more of their old sound coming through (which isn't that far from where they are now).

Solid work from a great band. These boys should definitely be watched.

Sarmoon Brotherhood
Reverse Healing
(Photon)
reviewed in issue #97, 1/29/96

Sludge bass and rhythm guitar combined with MIDI-ed lead and shouted vocals. Not unlike latter-day Anthrax with Tony MacAlpine on lead guitar. An interesting concept.

The songs follow more of a metal-sludge construction, which makes the lead work all the more anomalous. It works, amazingly enough, though I'm not that amused by the fairly generic songwriting.

Good enough to rouse fists into the air and stir up a small pit, the Sarmoon Brotherhood needs to break out of this trendy metal sound and find a way to provide a creative counterpoint to the lead guitar sound that is very cool. I mean, there's a reason the last Anthrax album slipped by without a lot of notice.

Fun and easy, but it could be so much more.

satanstompingcaterpillars
Flower Slides
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #221, 9/3/01

I'm using this term a lot this issue, but it seems to fit every time: Minimalist. The music is, indeed, similar. Satanstompingcaterpillars sound nothing like their name. Rather, the folks play textured, contemplative pop. Not unlike, say Silver Jews.

The languid feel of the songs isn't really undercut by anything at all. These songs are as thoughtful and rolling as they seem. There's nothing to slow the hypnotic flow, just beat after beat from the endless sea.

No halt, that is, until Satanstompingcaterpillars decide there should be one. The guys aren't above playing with noise, albeit in a most restrained and understated fashion. There's pretty much one mode here, and it really works.

A most impressive set of songs. Right down the middle of the minimalist pop style, but with a style all its own. I likes.

A couple guys playing that ol' minimalist pop. Keys and guitar, mostly. Subdued. Or introspective. You make the call.

The note enclosed with this disc says "We're a little folkier this time...," and that's about right. More of a focus on interplay between the keyboards and guitar and less on the vocals (or lyrics). In general, the instruments don't range far from the base but rather dance in parallel squiggles. Not a lot of intersection, but some good movement.

There's something about the way these songs come together that I really like. For one, the guys are very deliberate about the way they construct their songs. They don't rush their thoughts, giving the ideas plenty of time to germinate.

Contemplative. Meditative. There are plenty of words to describe this music. Just don't come away thinking that because the guys aren't the loudest or fastest around that this stuff is anything but intense. Cause this stuff can get so hot it burns.

Understated pop music, full of electronic bits and strange snippets of manipulation. Vaguely psychedelic, but it's pretty hard to put a finger on what causes that impression to form.

There's a constant mystery to the sound of Satanstompingcaterpillars. Part of it is the fact that the band shifts its sound from release to release. Here, most of the music seems to be created electronically. The vocals are stage-whispered, and there's this odd feeling that the tape is about to snap.

Of course, I'm listening to a CD. I'm talking about the manipulation of the music to make it sound like a tape in distress. More extreme and uneven than simple tremolo, this effect causes the notes to waver (both in pitch and speed) and produces something of a sinister shimmer.

I like what I'm hearing from this edition. Satanstompingcaterpillars has constantly surprised and delighted me; this disc is no exception. Delve into the bushes and see what you're missing.

Satanics
Speak of the Devil
(Limited Potential)
reviewed in issue #32, 4/15/92

With more than a passing resemblance of the Titanics, the Satanics cruise out of Boston sounding like they've cruised out of the delta.

Oddly enough, this reminds me of the Circus of Power's first album: production a little muddy (but it sounds best that way), cheap riffs and wacky lyrics. And while COP wasn't kidding, and thus became a sort of bad joke, these boys are kidding and the joke is on us.

Just in case you're curious, the humidity is what will really fuck you in Hell, the Devil has been known to have a candle sticking out his ass and selling your soul can leave you a lifetime supply of good barbecue sauce (where do I sign?).

What else can I say about this except: Enjoy!

Satellite Inn
Cold Morning Songs
(Mood Food)
reviewed in issue #188, 9/20/99

The press notes that these boys were inspired by Uncle Tupelo's Still Feel Gone, and that's easy to hear. Perhaps a bit too easy. Too many of these songs not only echo stuff from the second (and first and third) albums by the Belleville band, they just about steal them. Each Satellite Inn song has a direct antecedent, even to the point of keys and riffs.

Now, if I hadn't spent five years in college literally watching Uncle Tupelo transform itself from just another band to a movement-inspiring juggernaut, well, I'd probably dig this stuff. But Satellite Inn is way too close to the original. "Sometimes in the Morning" is a pale echo of "Screen Door," and "Who Are You to Say for Sure?" takes every piece of "Fall Down Easy" but the chorus.

Now in these boys' defense, they are from Italy, and they're not stealing songs as such. They just love Uncle Tupelo so much that they haven't bothered to find their own sound. That's really the issue here. Satellite Inn needs to differentiate itself from its American heroes. Somehow. Because this is way, way too close.

Perhaps some more seasoning, more exposure to other bands in this general musical area (the Jayhawks, Bottle Rockets, etc.) will help Satellite Inn find its own grounding. These songs are fine, but a little too close to comfort for me.

Satellite 66
Grasshopper
(Smokeylung)
reviewed in issue #255, July 2004

This is still Josh Seib's outfit, and while it's been a while since we last heard from Satellite 66, the music is still as involved and engaging as ever.

Seib has traveled through the likes of Brando and Marmoset, and he applies a similar noisy art of pop to his own tunes. The production here leaves soft edges everywhere in the sound, but the lyrics always cut straight to the bone. Clever bit, that is.

I like the way these songs always keep moving. There's a graceful old-school country feel to the rhythm of these songs--not anything particular, but rather the way that these mid-tempo songs manage to sound eminently danceable. Two-step or whatever, the movement is constant.

And the songs keep quietly impressing. Not the longest of affairs--eight songs in 24 minutes--but more than enough to ramp up my jones for more Satellite 66. This one snuck up on me...even though I was fully prepared to receive greatness. Kinda cool that way.

Joe Satriani
The Extremist
(Relativity)
reviewed in issue #17, 7/31/92

Joe Satriani is without a doubt the most popular instrumental guitarist in the world. And one of the most imitated, as well. While some people see that as a way to break out of an artistic mold, Satriani keeps on keeping on.

This can be good or bad, depending on how you look at it. This album is as good as Surfing with the Alien or Flying in a Blue Dream (but still a little behind Not of this Earth, which ironically was originally marketed with a laudatory blurb from former student Steve Vai).

Actually, it is indistinguishable from his last two works. There is no singing here, but the playing is as tuneful and forceful as always. But with all of his technique and power, Joe Satriani has never made me go "Damn, that was really amazing." I know he can. Maybe next time.

Saturna
Some Delicious Enemy
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #285, May 2007

Sophisticated sleaze. Hair slicked-back, chords-ringing-over-cowbell, fuzzy gang vocals on the chorus kinda stuff. Oh, and just enough electronic accouterments to make it sound big time. Shit, works for me.

This is precisely the sort of music that, to my ear, ought to have mass appeal. But whenever anyone tries something like this on the big stage (Girls Against Boys, for example), it falls flat. Maybe it's the fact that this isn't just ear candy, that there's some substance behind the tasseled pasties. If I knew what the problem was, I'd be running the world's most successful record label.

There are moments where Saturna ventures into the fringes of Loveless territory. That's not exactly commercial nirvana, though skipping through distortion has a certain sonic appeal to my ears. It's pretty, kinda like watching a woman walk through fog. You imagine more than there is...and by using your mind, you get attracted that much quicker.

But this isn't all mind games. Saturna's stuff is most pleasurable. And you won't have to go to the doctor three days later.

Savage Henry
Goocher
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #147, 11/10/97

Plying the funk-pop thing, sorta like a much lighter version of 311 or something. The mix is very odd, with the (rather flatly sung) vocals way above the music, and only the lead guitar and drums making any sort of impact at all.

The guys get some creds for plenty of attempts at humor, both musical and lyrical, but almost all of them fall flat, sounding a bit too contrived. A function of trying too hard, I think.

That theme keeps running through my mind. The songs are well-crafted, too much so, really. The band is wound up way too tight to make the humor work. There is a certain level of looseness needed to carry off the joke, and Savage Henry isn't able to get there.

The whole disc just sounds unnatural. Like the band doesn't really play like this live, but they thought this is how you're supposed to sound when you record. Hard to say, really. I just can sense this high level of unease. I don't know exactly where it's coming from, but there it is.

The strange thing is that Savage Henry prowls through the same forest as King Kong. One listen to each of those albums should make all this bumbling rambling make sense.

Savatage
The Wake of Magellan
(Lava/Atlantic)
reviewed in issue #157, 4/20/98

Lots of band changes and some lean years behind, Savatage returns with its (really?) 15th album, another way-too-ambitious rock opera. Hey, gotta give the guys credit for thinking big.

It doesn't work, really, either in terms of drama or music. Much of the music is sacrificed for plot advancement, and even then much of the ideas and conflict seem contrived. A lot of cribbed riffs and artificial situations.

Still, there are some nice spots. I've always liked the Savatage style of Euro-metal (though, of course, the band hails from Florida), and even if some of the music lurches into cliches, the overall power metal sound is pretty cool. I wish just one song had come together for me, but snatches are all I can find.

Probably not as far away as I think. The guys put a ton of work into this album, and it's very easy to hear all the care and craft. Perhaps a little less of that and some more emotion might have helped. I don't know. It's so frustrating to hear an album that has many nice bits, but nothing substantial to show off.

One of the most venerable epic metal bands around, Savatage returns with yet another operatic outing. It's a ghost story, of sorts, the tale of a photographer who can't separate his emotions from his job. He goes insane.

The songs are generally told from the main character's point of view, which tends to make the lyrics somewhat confusing. Not a bad thing, as long as everything comes together in the end.

And it does, to a certain extent. As with most Savatage albums, the focus is on the music and making it sound good. No worries there; the stuff sound great. It's technical and bombastic, but again, that's Savatage being Savatage. No complaint from me there.

The usual problems do crop up. The songs do tend to sound like after a while, and they certainly don't deviate far from the well-worn path the band has been treading for all these years. Another solid effort from Savatage. The fans should be pleased, though I don't think this album will win over a van new army of believers.

Savath + Savalas
The Rolls and Waves EP
(Hefty)
reviewed in issue #231, July 2002

Savath + Savalas is Scott Herren, who might be better known to some as the man behind Prefuse 73. Herren has a number of guises, all of them most intriguing. On this effort, he is the composer/conductor/arranger of jazzy pop.

Light in tone, but not in intensity. These instrumentals wax and wane with an almost incandescent fury--but the tone stays mellow. It's just the thoughts that burn.

Herren has a way of taking basic forms and adding new levels of complexity. These pieces could have been written by Burt Bacharach, but the arrangements are much fuller and more stylish than even the best 70s pop. That's why those in the know always pay attention to Herren. No matter what he calls himself at any given moment.

Being the duo of Eva Puyuelo Muns and Scott Herren (aka PreFuse 73). Has that cool Stereolab-style eurotrash feel, though Herren adds plenty of American hip-hop to the jams. Muns has one of those voices that immediately entrances. Which means that...

Right. These songs ought to get just about anyone in the mood. Seductive doesn't even begin to describe the sound. I have no idea what the songs themselves say (my high school Spanish begins and ends with "dame cabeza"...or is that "dame cerveza"?), but man, someone's getting something somewhere.

I know, I'm overdoing it a bit. To call this album a bedside jam ignores the high art appeal of the stuff. The playing is exquisite, and Herren's added touches flesh out the sound most beautifully. There's a grace and power to these pieces that is missing from the likes of Stereolab.

As should be obvious, I worked my ass off to come up with reasons to listen to this album other than simple, visceral pleasure. Hey, it works for me. And if you really need to exercise your brain at all times, there's plenty here. Just let the love flow.

The Saw Doctors
Sing a Powerful Song
(Shamtown-Paradigm)
reviewed in issue #149, 12/8/97

An Irish band which is happy to meld traditional-sounding melodies with punk and country music, The Saw Doctors are pretty damned huge in their homeland. Most Americans, of course, still identify U2 (or, if they're actually somewhat enlightened, the Pogues or the Waterboys) as the epitome of an Irish band. The Saw Doctors fit the bill much better.

There's an eerie resemblance to Uncle Tupelo, particularly on such upbeat bashers as "Macnas Parade". Mainly, the ability to merge a number of seemingly incompatible musical ideas into a seamless and unique sound. But, as Black 47 has shown, traditional jigs are pretty malleable, indeed.

This disc is a compilation of the first three Saw Doctors albums released in Ireland, and it includes its two biggest hits, "N17" and "I Useta Lover" (the second isn't related to the phonetically identical Gunners tune). Personally, I'm for releasing all of the albums over here, and perhaps if this album does well enough, that might happen.

Rock with its roots in a completely different century. The Saw Doctors is more than a good Irish band; it's a good band, period. The perceptive songwriting skills and sure grasp on the musical wheel keeps the boat steaming straight ahead. A real find.

KJ Sawka
Cyclonic Steel
(Wax Orchard)
reviewed in issue #287, July 2007

There's techno for the dance floor, there's techno for the geek and then there's the rare techno that manages to be both experimental and accessible as all get out.

Alright, some of these pieces are probably a bit diffuse for the floor. They're still packed with punchy beat work and the occasional solid vocal. Sawka doesn't reinvent the sequencer or anything, but nonetheless, these pieces are most impressive.

Mostly a case of good music done well, I suppose. There isn't anything surprising here, just an obvious attention to craft and an inquisitive mind wandering into new scenarios.

Oh yeah, and it sounds nicely chilly. It fits with today's music, just as it would have fit in just fine 15 or 20 years ago. Well turned out.

Saxon
Metalhead
(Steamhammer-SPV)
reviewed in issue #201, 6/26/00

A not particularly inspired title from what I figured was an already spent force. I mean, the best Saxon albums were pretty derivative, and I haven't heard anything from these guys in about 10 years (when they were already pretty damned old).

One old-fashioned Eurometal trick is to doll things up in keyboards and then crank out the power riffage. Saxon plays that right by the book. The vocals have been processed to achieve an Ozzy-esque quality, but this fare would be too pedestrian even for today's geriatric Ozzman.

It's immaculately played and produced. The sound is nice and thick. I mean, all of the elements are in place. The stuff just isn't that interesting. Entirely predictable for the most part, depressingly so at times. A couple times I was able to predict the riffage of a song based on the finish of the previous one.

I don't blame the guys for this calculation. Any way to sell a record is what it takes. In my book, Saxon was never a first-line act. That it has survived until today is amazing. Sure, that makes this album remarkable. Just not good.

I must admit, I wasn't really looking forward to reviewing this disc. Then I noticed that the guys covered "Court of the Crimson King." And then I read the liners, which read "All songs written by Saxon." I know, I know, such a complaint is nitpicking. But still.

Kinda emblematic of Saxon's entire career. Here's a band that's made a living (I assume) from recycling. The Saxon version of Eurometal is rarely exciting or invigorating, but it is consistent. You know what you're getting.

And if turgid riffage and guitar cliches rock your world, then Saxon will do the trick. I know there are plenty of Saxon freaks--some of them have written me protesting my review of last year's Metalhead. I'm glad the guys have such a truly devoted fan base.

I just wish those folks would figure out that there are better bands around. Saxon is generic to the extreme. Every once in a while a good song pops along--I'll happily give them credit there. But that doesn't happen often enough to get me excited. That's just the way it goes.

SC
2000 S.C.
(Products of tha Streets)
reviewed in issue #217, 6/4/01

Lotsa braggin', lotsa slaggin'. SC does have a few things to say, but he works his real ideas in between what he seems to think are the most important parts of a rap: boasts and disses.

I could forgive some of that if the flow had something going for it. But SC is just borrowing from all over the place without really making any sound his own. The production is cheap (sounds that way, anyway), which does shine a light on the rhymes.

And they may be the strong point of this album. Which is too bad. SC sounds like too many others, obsessed with everyone but himself. Where is he? Who is he? All I hear is static.

He does have a good sense of rhythm, and he delivers his rhymes with a very real sense of style. Just wish he had something original to say, that he put a little more of himself into the raps.

Scanner
Wave of Light By Wave of Light
(Sulfur-Beggars Group)
reviewed in issue #213, 3/12/01

Back in the day, we used to call stuff like this techno. Technically proficient techno, rather adventurous techno, but still the sort of stuff that falls into that territory.

Generally a meditative sound, almost in the realm of the ambient electronic, but with hints of many other styles. The beats never take precedence, but they are creative. Seductively hypnotic without getting overly repetitive.

Not the easiest trick to achieve. Scanner also does well with the sound, twisting the mix to build something of a 3D feel to the songs at times. This isn't full soundscape mode, but there are moments.

Indeed, the album is full of fine moments. If the idea of techno (harking back to Kraftwerk or Tangerine Dream) doesnšt frighten you, Scanner's modern take on the sound is astonishingly addictive. The hook sets quickly.

Scanners
Violence Is Golden
(Dim Mak)
reviewed in issue #277, August 2006

As I mention from time to time, I came of age in the 1980s. Which means I love new wave, punk and tuneful pop music more than a "serious" music critic probably should. But shit, man, it's hardwired into my system. And when a band like Scanners comes along, it's hard for me to keep my pants clean.

The guitars are more early emo, but the construction is pop, the hooks are mind-bending and the straight-up drumming takes me back to any number of high school dances where I was lucky to find the courage to ask anyone out on the floor. So, y'know, it's not like my opinion is free of emotional bias or anything.

But, come on, these strident little songs pack one hell of a punch. Stripped down and completely tight, the stuff here is incendiary. Music reduced to its most volatile components. Sets my skin on fire.

Oh, yeah, and these folks have a woman named Sarah Daly at the mic. I know, this plays to all the worst stereotypes about men, but come on. For me, it's just the icing on one hell of a cake. Which is a cliche, especially since I detest cake. But I love Scanners. A lot. This one goes right into heavy rotation.

Scar Tissue
Separator
(21st Circuitry)
reviewed in issue #116, 8/12/96

Moody industrial dance stuff. Not moody in a Goth sense, but in a more sparse way. As in the absence of emotion, but still depressed. I suppose that makes no sense at all. Sorry...

Still, I try. There are some seriously quiet moments here, and I quite approve. Scar Tissue knows how to make use of every tool at its disposal. The beats are from scattered influences, and the music rather foreboding, in a sterile way.

Cold hate, as the song goes. I'm not sure if this was the intent, but I can almost read electronic dreams into what I'm hearing. Years after the fact, Scar Tissue has created a perfect soundtrack for Bladerunner.

The odd dynamics will throw off folks looking for a more conventional electronic attack, but that's a casualty of life. Scar Tissue has a very good feel for its sound, and I like that sound quite a bit.

Scar Tissue is a band that knows exactly what it wants to do, and then goes about fulfilling that ambition, usually with complete success.

Almost sound construction posing as songs. This is fully realized in the final 13 tracks, collectively called "The Devices". The listener is advised to either listen to the set as a piece or as filler in a random play situation.

It works both ways, and the rest of the album is pretty damned good, too. Scar Tissue is one of the rare industrial-type bands to really understand the power of dynamics. Silence can be just as devastating as a woofer-blowing assault. The use of subtlety is underappreciated these days, and an album such as this one point that out only too much.

A wondrous labor, even more incredible when you consider Scar Tissue's last album came out a little more than six months ago. To realize works of such power in such a short period of time is amazing. There is far too much happening here to give full credit. Suffice to say this is one of those "important" albums.

Ten remixes and six new tracks from one of the better experimental electronic bands around. The songs have a haunting quality, something that is aided by the spectacular use of silence.

And the remixes don't diminish the greatness at all. I don't think they add a hell of a lot, but as the level was pretty high to begin with, I don't have many complaints.

The new stuff travels in the same vein as before, subtle brain scraping songs which have as much impact on reflection as they do when first heard. Basic explorations of sound, the sort of intense quest that few are willing to undertake.

Top notch, as usual. Scar Tissue is a band at the top of its game. And this game is itself one of the most challenging around.

Scarecrow
Scarecrow
(Red Light)
reviewed in issue #2, 11/15/91

Ex-Nuge drummer (not to mention mega-producer) Tom Werman is listed as "Production Consultant" on this puppy. The sound is commercial, but since most of you play the Crue, Tesla or Queensryche (and why not?) give this a listen. It's certainly as interesting as those.

The real attraction here for me was the cool vocal style. There is a nice gruffness, not anywhere near grindcore or death metal, but nowhere near the producer-pumped sound lots of majors are cranking out these days. Dig it.

Scared of Chaka
Tired of You
(Sub City)
reviewed in issue #183, 6/7/99

The fuzzed vocals and strident guitars remind me strongly of the Lee Harvey Oswald Band. As do the little techno touches (fuzzed out organ, etc.). The sound is simply altogether distorted. And the speed is high.

Energy galore. Scared of Chaka hails from Albuquerque, and in fact, the band's contact address is reasonably close to my brothers's pad in the Big Q. I get the feeling I know where these guys are coming from, and I sure like tapping into the source.

And that's the key here. Electric. Scared of Chaka is fast but tight, a live wire act where the mess is in the sound and not the playing. The only way is all the way. Dive in. Experience the rush.

Truly invigorating. One of those cool discs which rises out of nowhere to bit you on the ass. Yep, I'm pretty stoked. And definitely amped. All the way.

Scaries
Scaries 7" EP
(Springbox)
reviewed in issue #99, 2/19/96

The press calls this rockabilly. So that's what it is.

It's not rockabilly. Perhaps something more akin to stridently sparse post-punk pop. But then, that's getting silly. The honest truth is that the band itself probably has no idea what to call its music. It's always better that way.

A two-song EP. Whatever. The A-side, "Scenes of Broken Things" has a great rhythm track, with just a little guitar and some hyper vocals added. Way cool.

The flip, "Too Few", rips a little more with the guitars. but the rhythm section is just as manic as on the A-side. I think this sound might have been aided by a little more aggressive production (you really have to crank up the volume to hear anything), but too much would have killed the coolness. I'll settle for this slab.

Schatzi
Death of the Alphabet EP
(Mammoth)
reviewed in issue #223, 10/15/01

Four tracks from the band's upcoming album and four tracks just fer the hell of it. Schatzi (not named for Marge Schott's dog, or they would've spelled it differently) plays a most pleasant form of power pop. The sounds bound forth with aplomb.

There is a hint of the emo, though that's been mostly processed out in the production. Which is okay. These guys have a way of making vaguely atonal hooks snap in tight.

There's nothing here that specifically grabs me, but on the whole the package is impressive. I kept wanting to hear the next song. Which is to say: These boys know how to make this kinda music really swing. A full-length would be more than welcome in these quarters.

Two bands whose stripped-down old school approach to emo is almost archaic. The commitment to anthemic choruses and the occasional nice melody remains, but the focus (to my hears) is on how the parts of the band work together.

Motion City Soundtrack is the more adventurous of the two. Of course, its songs were recorded last year, while Schatzi put down its tracks in the summers of 2000 and 2001. Still, there is a solid resonance between each band's work.

I ought mention that Schatzi throws in a decidedly straight rendition of "Any Way You Want It" that still sounds punk. Must be the flat tone on the guitars. Very cool. A nice way to wrap up a fun set of songs. This puppy is way too short.

Scenic
Acquatica
(World Domination)
reviewed in issue #114, 7/15/96

Veering from acoustic ambient to atmospheric pop (all mostly instrumental), Scenic sounds like nothing less than an odd pairing of Pink Floyd and Pavement. Of course, I've never liked Pink Floyd or Pavement (hey, no death threats, okay?).

Man, are these folks really trying their asses off. You can hear it in every song. Massive instrumentation and overdubbed everything, like My Bloody Valentine at its most masturbatory. If it only went somewhere...

Well, actually, I guess it does. But still, this seems like an awful lot of work to arrive at a sound that differs from easy listening only in the number of instruments used. Perfectly pleasant, but far too often perfectly dull.

I give the folks higher marks than they probably deserve just because they worked so damned hard. I just hope they think they got their money and time's worth.

Scheer Energy
Hollywood Notions
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #157, 4/20/98

Somewhat clunky guitar pop, infused with a very overt religious message. Not a particularly preachy one, but just a lot of ideas. Those ideas are the best part of the disc.

Because the music is not great. James Taylor thrice rebuked, or something like that. But Scheer Energy is a "good news" spreader, and that fairly non-judgmental message is refreshing to hear.

Even on the title track, the lyrics don't condemn, but attempt to enlighten. A much more effective way of operating, if you ask me. Alright, there's a bit too much "Lord Jesus" for my tastes (us born-again atheists are a strange breed). But the presentation is fairly good.

The music, though, is just too milquetoast. The melodies aren't particularly good, and the nuts and bolts in the rhythm department can get downright awful. Still, the message is well-presented, if not coupled with good tunage.

Musically, Scheer Energy hasn't gotten much past its 80s synth-laden guitar pop sound. The songwriting is a bit clunky. Milquetoast is the word I used before, and it still fits. But I didn't expect any musical revelations here. What I liked about the earlier Scheer Energy disc was the way the lyrics presented Christianity as a positive, and not a negative, faith.

And that's still here, but faith is presented as a solution to all of life's problems, without any real corroborating philosophy. "Believe and life is automatically a lot better" is the message. No Christian I know would subscribe to that argument. Any faith takes work: Spiritual, mental and physical.

I wish there was a bit more here than Jesus as some spiritual superhero. Well, there are plenty of diatribes against empy Hollywood values (not exactly virgin territory), but I find the solutions presented as less than convincing.

Hey, I'm a born-again atheist, but I can recognize that there are plenty of good arguments for Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, you name it. I've read and heard a number of them. Scheer Energy does not make its case very well.

Jeff Scheetz
Pawn Shop
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #142, 9/1/97

Instrumental guitar, with a greater emphasis on feeling than pyrotechnics. Always a plus, in my book.

Scheetz isn't the world's greatest songwriter. His basic structures are a little shop-worn, and at times he kinda resorts to familiar lines as a way to extricate himself from a particularly tough spot in a song.

But he redeems those fairly serious problems with his playing style. Scheetz is quite good at evoking a mood and then working within that sound. Sometimes the musical ideas aren't the greatest, but I can hear him trying.

He's got the right idea, if not the perfect execution. I'd prefer to hear impassioned playing than wild fingering exercises any day. And there's plenty of feeling here.

Schema
Schema
(5 rue Christine)
reviewed in issue #207, 10/30/00

Instrumental in form, even when vocals intrude into the universe. I guess what I'm saying there is that these songs don't conform to the usual verse-chorus format. Rather, they meander around in the more abstract way that a lot of instrumental bands do.

Some truly long songs, too, including a near-12 minute stunner called "Echolalia... Curvilinear." An awful lot of ideas are spinning around these here parts, and they don't always connect in the most rational of ways. You gotta let go to see the underlying form.

Moving back a few steps doesn't help much. You've got to cede control to Schema, to let the band take you where it wants to go. Follow all the side paths. Don't let your mind try and impose some sort of false order. Like I said: Let go.

And then Schema will begin to make sense. The music works as a series of lines, but their points of contact aren't always sharp. There is as much parallel thinking as contrapuntal. Schema doesn't make it easy. But boy, does it satisfy.

Michael Schenker Group
Live Unforgiven World Tour
(Shrapnel) reviewed in issue #192, 12/6/99

You might ask, "Why?" It's a fair question. I suppose the easy answer is that MSG has fallen so out of favor that there isn't much to be found in stores outside of the used vinyl bins.

Two singers are used. Keith Slack handles most of the chores, but Kelly Keeling sings the songs from the latest MSG opus (where he is the singer). I don't understand, but I can say that Keeling belts the tunes out much better than Slack. I wish he'd been singing the whole show.

I still don't know why, though. Schenker can still rip off nice guitar solos, and his current band does better than simply run through the old war horses. There's some spirit in the sound.

That's all well and good, but still. The old stuff still impresses more. Maybe that's nostalgia speaking, but with MSG, that's all there is.

Tina Schlieske
Slow Burn
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #268, September 2005

A few folks in my neck of the woods wondered what the hell Tift Merritt was doing last year when she released the funky country soul of Tambourine last year. I'm sure a few of Tina Schlieske's fans might be wondering the same thing when they hear this.

The longtime leader of Tina and the B-Sides steps out solo here, and she gets much, much more soulful than any of her previous albums even thought about going. There's just no holding back, and Schlieske proves herself to be one hell of a soul belter.

Perhaps it is the, shall we say, indelicate timbre of Schlieske's vocals that make this modest shift in sound even more remarkable. She's got power, but not a lot of subtlety. But that's okay. She lets the background singers do their work, and she simply wails. Comparisons to Janis Joplin or Melissa Etheridge are obvious (especially considering her "regular" gig as a lesbian activist), but Schlieske has a feel all her own. She can pull back from time to time, and she's more roots and soul than Etheridge ever was.

A better comparison would be Bonnie Raitt--without the stinging guitar, of course. Schlieske sticks to acoustic work, and she uses that guitar quite well. By any measure, this is the most mature and assured album of her career. Quite a step forward.

Dietrich Schoenemann
An Agenda and a Beat
(Instinct)
reviewed in issue #216, 5/14/01

A studio mix disc, though Dietrich Schoenemann's notes say that he tried to put this set together as if he was mixing for a club floor. Well, of course.

All snideness from me aside, Schoenemann did a pretty good job of making this set sound "live." The segues are fluid and the music choice is solid. Schoenemann sticks to fairly sterile, more European-sounding stuff (the sorta music that grew out of Kraftwerk, etc.), which make this disc something of a sonic exploration for those of us over here in the U.S. who don't get exposed to such things on a regular basis.

Enjoyable, surely. I'm never quite sure how to judge these types of albums, but I can say that I like Schoenemann's taste and the way he puts together a set. That can't be bad.

Schooner
Hold on Too Tight
(54-40 or Fight)
reviewed in issue #286, June 2007

I was hooked with the first song (second track), "Carrboro," and its first lines: "You moved to Carrboro so you could find/Places to go that were not so unkind." You kinda have to know the whole Raleigh/Durham/Chapel Hill area for that to make sense, but I thought it was funny.

The opener for the next one, though, convinced me this is a great album: "You said tonight/That God was on our side/So I prayed for you to die." Damn. Wish I'd thought of that one.

Schooner reminds me a lot of Magnetic Fields, but with more of an eclectic indie rock musical base. Indeed, the songs themselves cycle through most of rock history ("Pray for You to Die" is something of a 50s ballad, and it works really well that way), even as the lyrics wax post-modern (and blackly witty) all the way.

You gotta listen to this one, but as the examples I threw in should tell you, it's worth the effort. Albums this cutting come along seldom. Albums that make you smile while eviscerating the human race are absolutely devastating.

Kate Schrock
Shunyata
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #135, 5/26/97

Somewhere between country, rock and folk. The songs are slowly-building emotional bits of self-exploration. Amusement, anger, angst and plenty of other feelings course through the music and the lyrics.

Precisely the sort of music that is too often rendered overblown and bombastic by an inept hand at the boards. Schrock and co-producer and Steve Drown do get a little happy with some of the extras, but the guitars and keyboards are kept in check.

And since the main attraction here is Schrock's voice and lyrics, there's no need for anything to drown them out. Sure, she occasionally loses flow, trying to say more than necessary in one line, but not enough to grate.

A beautiful album, one that doesn't compromise in any way. Heavy hands would have wrecked it, but Schrock knew what she wanted, and the results speak for themselves.

Schubert
Toilet Songs
(Mausoleum/BMG)
reviewed in issue #98, 2/5/96

A really nice Euro-metal take on American rock trends of the past 10 years, from glam to industrial and everything in between. Weird and wildly diverse, but still fairly amusing.

It doesn't work all the time. Schubert is trying on too many hats to really settle down on a simply style, and there simply is no center to the disc. But the many bits of silliness (particularly the intros that had nothing to do with the songs) kept me going.

Schubert tried, and occasionally succeeded. This isn't any worse than most cheesy American "metal" albums of the past few years, and on inspired moments like the bizarre rendition of "Cheek to Cheek", it's much better. With some consistency, Schubert could really do something.

Sebastien Schuller
Sebastien Schuller
(Minty Fresh)
reviewed in issue #278, September 2006

Another Minty Fresh offering, but one that is utterly different than the Poems. These are slightly chilly electronic pop musings. The extremely arty side of pop.

Just as impressive, in its own way. And as this stuff is hardly accessible, I was constantly amazed at how quickly each song wormed its way into my brain. There's something almost stream of consciousness about Schuller's writing style...or maybe it's just that his brain and mine are kindred spirits.

The sound is spare and often minimalist. Not isolated or anything like that, but not enveloping in any way. This one comes at the listener straight through the brain.

So if you like your pop visceral and intuitive, Schuller is not your man. But I dig the way he expresses himself. I'm tuned in to his wavelengths, that's for sure.

Ben Schultz Band
TriAlity
(TVT)
reviewed in issue #13, 5/15/92

Even the press admits the band will "tramp heavily in the footsteps already paved by the likes of Joe Satriani and Eric Johnson." If you like those guitarists, then you'll like this album.

Commercial fare, non-threatening or offending. Like all guitar "gods", Schultz tends to rely on speed more than content, but then isn't that what all the little headbangers are after?

Sorry to be so rude. This is a decent, (mostly) instrumental, guitar album. I just wish someone would have the balls to walk outside the already paved footsteps.

Scissorfight
Human Head 7"
(Summit)
reviewed in issue #97, 1/29/96

Throbbing grind that uses basic hardcore rhythms and metal riffs to decent effect. The production leaves a little to be desired, but the band's attitude is what keeps these two songs buoyant. The flip, "Tempest of Skulls", is a notch better than the a-side, but both are good.

Good, not great. The band is obviously trying to bridge the gaps between grindcore, metal and hardcore, and if the knobs had been twisted to allow a little more clarity, it just might have worked.

And good idea, and the musicians' execution is right on the mark. The songs are well-crafted and even catchy (a real anomaly when talking about this sort of thing). I'd love to hear more.

I bitched somewhat about the production on the 7", and I was informed that this is exactly the band and producer wanted. Thick, sludginess that obscures any subtlety in the performance.

But Scissorfight isn't in the game to be subtle. This is Eyehategod territory, except that this band has a knack for making the extreme sound almost accessible. I mean, it's got a beat and I can dance to it...

And that's really the surprise here. There have been plenty of hardcore sludge bands come out of the northeast (my personal favorite is Glazed Baby, though Sam Black Church and obviously Seka--Mind Bomb, whatever--also come to mind), but Scissorfight really twists the concept into a whole new shape.

A good shape, by the way. This is pure fun, and any other reaction is silly. Off the scale on the amusement factor. Okay, so it's low-class crap that makes Killdozer sound sophisticated. Doesn't mean you can't have a good laugh. I think the boys would approve.

Even more into the sludge blooze 'n' boogie than before, Scissorfight thrashes out another set of impossibly heavy tunes. And see, they've still got these wonderful grooves. Hard to explain, even harder to believe.

Oh yeah, this is an acquired taste. And as many purveyors of this sound have fallen off in the past couple of years, it remains somewhat surprising that Scissorfight is able to soldier forth and keep kicking through the goo.

Ever moving and amusing, this disc is the best Scissorfight yet. The songs blare forth with fury and surprising deftness. The guitars are agile, though awfully thick. And talk about getting down. Hard to believe a boogie can be so heavy. But there it is.

Perhaps it takes a couple massive head traumas to really dig this stuff, but fuckit. I'll wade into the morass any day of the week. Scissorfight has gotten heavier, and yet found even more addictive riffola. Like the glory days of Agony Column. With better production.

The Scooters
I Can See Your House From Here
(Aeronaut)
reviewed in issue #227, March 2002

Lush, fuzzy pop with a pleasant underbite. The sound is glorious and full. The lyrics tend toward dark and cynical, though there is the occasional spot of light--just to mix things up.

But wow, this stuff is so thick and chewy! I just love the way the songs ooze out of the disc. There are plenty of fast pieces to accompany the almost-symphonic mid-tempo blooms, but everything is well-conceived and executed. The Scooters give solid craft a fine live feel.

And that's about as good a compliment as there is. A massive effort went into the creation of this album, but these songs sound as if they were just tossed off two minutes ago.

That kind of nonchalant brilliance always brings a smile to my face. These folks sure do play the hell out of this style. Who cares what the kids are buying. Good music will never go out of style. It just doesn't always pay the bills. Guess we'll all have to live with a great album, and let the chips fall where they may.

Scorn
Colossus
(Earache)
reviewed in issue #47, 1/31/94

Ex-Napalmer's Michael Harris and (current Godlesh member) Nick Bullen return with another installment of the Scorn saga.

There exists deep in the subconscious of the death metal movement an experimental side. Scorn and Candiru (a member of which was on a previous Scorn project) are the finest and best-known progenitors.

This is difficult music. It demands your attention and makes you conform your ideas about music to its ideal. Challenging your sense of music and reality every step of the way, Scorn has once again created a truly original piece. Would that everyone else had such standards.

If you don't know who the folks behind Scorn are by now, then you should ask someone. There is a serious musical history.

That note aside, a new Scorn disc is always a reason to celebrate. No, it's not terribly heavy all the time, but things are always more than interesting. Messrs. (M.) Harris and Bullen have, as usual, collected a nice array of sounds and presented them with their usual panache.

If there were such a thing as ambient industrial (and I suppose there is), then Scorn should be the embodiment of that ideal. Here's a party tip: crank up your stereo and drop a couple Scorn discs in. Watch the mood shift. People will actually be attempting to speak intelligently, not just picking up the nearest available bedpost.

Well, maybe this music wasn't intended for social engineering, but it's worth a shot. And even if you don't throw massive bashes, Scorn will do right by you, expanding both your musical and your sub consciousness (es).

Yes, the remix album that will not die, and I finally get a change to piss all over it.

Well, actually, anyone who knows me knows my opinion of Scorn (something like a dose of Scorn away helps keep a person sane and happy), so you will not be surprise to find out that I dig the remixes almost as much as the originals.
Well, except for "Silver Rain Fell". That is my all-time favorite Scorn piece, and Meat Beat Manifesto kinda dulled it out a bit. The thing is not bad, but I do prefer the original. Most of others are such departures from the original songs that it would be hard to really compare. So I won't.
Earache calls Scorn an ambient project, and I guess it fits in somewhere there. But like the best of the genre (a good chunk of Aphex Twin comes to mind), Scorn insists on taking artistic chances and writing interesting, if long, drawn-out and mellow, pieces. Scorn may be ambient, but it's still not terribly AAA listener-friendly. Ain't that a shame.

Scorn is just Mick Harris, now that former cohort Nick Bullen has left the scene. I was curious what difference this lack of creative tension would bring.
Harris is unparalleled in creating beat-driven noise. And that continues here. But what's missing on Gyral are the subtle textural shadings that made Evanescence so cool. Gyral has the simplicity of early Scorn without the occasional bombast that helped those early albums along.
And what's missing is the tension inside me. I never could predict where a Scorn song would now. Here, though, everything seems programmed by the numbers, which is why a lot of ambient/industrial projects sound dull. Harris throws enough stuff in to keep things lively, but he forgot to feather the edges with goodies. As bummed as I am to say it, this is an average album. And for Scorn, that's a real letdown.
See also Godflesh, Lull and Napalm Death.

Eric "Scorch" Scortia
Vital Organ
(Heads Up)
reviewed in issue #114, 7/15/96

This is one of them enhanced CDs, the ones that play on your computer as well. They don't play on mine, though, since I don't have a CD-ROM. Oh well, I'll just stick to the music.

There's a silly rumor that lounge music is monstrously popular among the kids these days. Scortia plays a form of lounge jazz that harkens back to the glory days of Booker T. and the MGs. Unfortunately, this sounds much more like the recent Booker T. comeback attempt.

Just not a lot going on here. The musicians are certainly competent, and Scortia is a nice enough guy to let all his sidemen shine. But the music is completely non-offensive, to a fault. Nothing here makes me perk up and take notice, or do much of anything else. It's just kinda dull.

Ace production; the stuff sounds great. Just wish it said something, too.

The Scotch Greens
!Draw!
(HairBall8-Cargo)
reviewed in issue #201, 6/26/00

The true western side of rockabilly. A little slide guitar, gruff and raspy vocals. And the feel of sitting around a campfire trading stories with some mean mothers.

And the Scotch Greens play the archetype for all its worth. There are songs about drinking, a song called "The Bitch," songs about riding the trail (and life) along. Just about covers the gambit, I think.

A lot of fun to hear. This sort of stuff can get silly, and the Scotch Greens do fall prey to some excessive use of western cliches, both musically and lyrically. But still; the disc just rolls along its mostly charming way.

A nice hangout disc. Very male and macho (moreso than just about anything I've heard in ages, but that's the way it has to be. Kinda brings the right colors to the palatte.

Cal Scott
Fierce Joy
(Tamarack)
reviewed in issue #111, 6/10/96

The difference between cheesy jazz and good jazz: the use of drum machines, keyboards and bass lines. If drum machines are used to keep the tempo even, watch out. If the keyboards only flay out mealy-mouthed chords, you're in trouble. When the bass is used to bounce the song along instead of an instrument in its own right, you know you're in happy jazz land.

All of 'em hit here. When jazz is used as a term for non-offensive music, I take exception. Good jazz has always moved the course of music forward, not provided the backdrop for yuppie dinner parties.

Every five minutes or so there is about ten seconds of a good jazz idea. Kinda like mining a spent shaft. No use.

If you like your music to have even the slightest hint of a bite, don't wander down this path. This dog doesn't even have dentures.

Scout
Plague Dogs 7"
(Deep Elm)
reviewed in issue #122, 11/4/96

A completely self-assured performance. Scout knows exactly the spot it's mining in the pop universe, and keeps hitting the mother lode.

Ashen Keilyn has that smoky alto voice that is positively intoxicating, particularly when mixed with sharp fuzzy guitar (which she also plays). Scout is smart enough to keep mixing things up, though, so no overdose on cheese.

It's really unusual for me to be so taken by a seven-inch. But Scout has all the tools necessary for greatness. And while this is only two songs, the band rips through so many musical ideas (while keeping things relatively simple), the only response can be rapt astonishment.

Pick this up and prepare for wonderment.

Scream
Live at the Black Cat WDC 12.28.96
(Torque Records)
reviewed in issue #154, 3/9/98

Yes, there was life before Nirvana for Dave Grohl. One of those lives was in a DC band called Scream, along with a few other local semi-luminaries. There's Franz and Pete Stahl from Wool (Franz is also a Foo Fighter from time to time). Kent Stax of the Suspects plays drums. Alright, on with the review.

Hardcore, and more hardcore. This reunion show recording is intended to be something of a greatest hits shot, I guess. The thing about it is the stuff isn't terribly good. Oh, there's plenty of energy and all that, but the songs aren't anything special. Just rote stuff, really.

And I don't know enough to say whether the problem is uninspired performance or mediocre songs. My guess is the latter. These guys sound like they're having a lot of fun.

When speaking of "classic" bands, history is almost always better than current events. That maxim holds here.

Screamfeeder
Take You Apart
(Rhythm Ace)
reviewed in issue #263, April 2005

Lovely Britpop...from Brisbane. I guess everyone sounds British when they sing. I mean, doesn't Green Day?

Aw, hell, that's an old one. Anyway, Screamfeeder plays pretty, jangly and occasionally crunchy pop music. Not a lot of attitude, but plenty of energy. I suppose it is that exact trait that gives this a Britpop feel. That and the fact that it's really obvious that these boys have listened to a lot of Supergrass and the Who.

And, hey, who hasn't, right? Nothing like a little bash 'n' pop to get the blood flowing. Screamfeeder may not scream a lot, but it still pushes plenty of buttons. The easy-going feel of the sound (my God, are those hand claps in the background?) makes this album almost too easy to drink. The stuff just slides right down.

No hangovers, either. I'm not entirely convinced these boys have the depth to make it in the long haul, but I'm more than willing to be proved wrong. In any case, I'll be listening to this one for some time to come.

Screaming Bloody Marys
Get In, Get Off, Get Out
(Doctor Dream)
reviewed in issue #103, 3/18/96

The latest Doctor Dream release is often a good way to gauge the current cool punk sound in Orange County. And to prove that theory, here's the Screaming Bloody Marys, produced by East Bay Ray. Okay, so they're a bit north of Anaheim.

Not nearly so poppy as the usual East Bay sound (and since the band hails from SF itself, that makes some sense), the Marys propagate more of a classic punk sound. Pretty heavy guitars, but still decent tuneage.

Which means the band fits right in with the Doctor Dream lineup. This is a tres L.A. sound, though the Marys crank out much catchier tunes than the average L.A. band. Speedy and in-your-face, with hooks.

And not much more than that. Close enough for rock and roll, but not brilliant or anything. Just your better-than-average punk band cranking out plenty of attitudinal tunes. Nothing to complain about.

Screaming Politicans
Manumit
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #150, 12/29/97

An interesting counterpoint of the Pokerface album I reviewed a few slots back. Screaming Politicians subtly discuss the politics of the person, not the demagoguery of the people. The music falls within the acceptable norms of that whole "alternative" rock form, with some nice keyboard texturing.

The sound is also one of the 80s, though make that the rather late 80s in the style of those anthemic R.E.M. wannabes. Screaming Politicians does a decent enough job of updating the music, though the stuff still comes across as somewhat dated.

The lyrics are the best part of the package, poetically written and rather affecting. While they don't get in the way of the music, the spoken thoughts far outweigh the sonic ones, by a wide margin.

If the music were more adventuresome, I'd be somewhere near ecstatic. Screaming Politicians has plenty to say, though I wish it sounded better when making its points.

The Screeches
Skidmarks
(Britsh Medical Records)
reviewed in issue #250, February 2004

New name (formerly the Leeches), new singer, same old sound. Somewhere in the dingy new wave-meets-rockabilly world of the Cramps, or, as the band itself seems to like, Blondie meets the Cramps.

That's not a bad comparison, actually. The songs are nice and sleazy, but there's an underlying cohesion that keeps the songs inexorably rolling forward. This does sometimes give the impression that you've heard a particular song before--but I was having such a good time I barely noticed.

The formula is simple: Husky female vocals, a tight rhythms section and a couple doses of spooky guitar. The songs aren't jokey--like, say, Deadbolt--but the music sometimes is. That's cool. Keep things loose, man.

This is the second album from these folks that I've reviewed, and I still can't quite explain why I like what I hear. There's just a vibe running through this stuff that tickles my fancy. Maybe it's the strangely slavish devotion to the understated hook. Or maybe I'm thinking too much. Better get back to the fun and forget all this silly analysis.

Screeching Weasel
Television City Dream
(Fat Wreck)
reviewed in issue #167, 9/14/98

When I got a call from Fat Wreck asking if they might send me the new Screeching Weasel, I responded with "Screeching Weasel is still around?" I mean, this band has staying power. While never hitting the big time, it has secured a spot in the pop punk pantheon of greats. Since first recording ages ago, when no one was buying this stuff, Screeching Weasel has consistently put out tuneful, fun records.

And no break to the streak here. The lyrics are as caustic and funny as ever, and while I'm sure the hooks are somewhat well-worn, I still salivated over each song. Oh, sure, you can hear the Buzzcocks and the Ramones all over the place. That's the point, boyo.

What's probably more amazing is that Ben Weasel isn't quite 30. I mean, he's not old, no matter how long he's been at this game. The music is as timeless as ever.

For the record, I also told the kind folks at Fat Wreck that I was happy Screeching Weasel is still a going concern. With albums like this, I think I'll be happy on that account for a good time to come.

Screw Radio
Talk Radio Violence
(SST)
reviewed in issue #92, 11/20/95

Sounds like Gone (though it's mostly just Greg Ginn-Andy Batwinas cranks up the drum machine) with some odd samples from radio (and some studio-created ones as well). I think Ginn buries the samples a bit much in favor of the somewhat repetitive soundtrack, but then, I want to hear what is said, and I think he had the opposite intention.

Sort of a hardcore-industrial reaction to the EBN. This stuff isn't for the clubs, it's headed right to the car tape decks. And since those are also being used to tune in to all the idiots on the airwaves (as opposed to significantly more thoughtful programming like Pacifica or NPR), that also seems rather appropriate.

There's something that doesn't quite satisfy me here, but bits like "Have I Heard the Lowdown on Clinton?" are positively hilarious. And there's more than enough entertaining spots to keep me amused for some time. A noble project that is almost an overwhelming success.

See also Greg Ginn, Gone, Hor and Poindexter Stewart.

The Screwdrivers
The Screwdrivers
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #226, February 2002

Just a rock and roll band from, um, Connecticut. You know, in the tradition of all those great Connecticut bands like, um, well give a minute. Or don't. I can't think of any right off the top of my head.

But the Screwdrivers are great. The band has a basic sound, nothing complicated. There are a few experiments, I guess, but even those aren't complicated. Just proves that these guys have learned the first lesson: Get the simple stuff down first.

Make it sound good, too. And that's where the Screwdrivers shine. If the hooks weren't so raggedly beautiful, if the riffage wasn't so energetic, well, perhaps this stuff wouldn't impress me nearly as much. But, see, this here disc is full of music done right.

And it doesn't have to be complicated or crazy or intricate or over-the-top. None of that. The Screwdrivers play swift, powerful rock and roll. With some breathers thrown in as change-ups. Just like you've gotta do if you're gonna make a good album. Like this one.

The Scruffs
Pop Manifesto
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #283, March 2007

Hard to argue with the title. Playing songs that sound like they were written by Alex Chilton and produced by Nick Lowe, the Scruffs have embraced a certain retro feel on this disc.

But it's only a surface thing. These days you can't stick to one or three sounds if you're a cool alternapop band. The Scruffs are only too happy to use touchpoints from the 60s to last week. And hey, when used tastefully that sort of thing really sounds good.

There's a slight preciousness to some of these songs--I know I keep saying this, but I'd like more oomph and less ahh, if that makes sense. And it feels funny to be saying that, because some of these tunes really pull out the throttle. More, please.

Maybe I'd like to hear these folks pare down their influences to one page. A couple of the songs here sound a lot more crafted than blistered. Nonetheless, there's an awful lot here to like. A nice manifesto, to be sure.

Scum of the Earth
Blah...Blah...Blah...Love Songs for the New Millennium
(Eclipse)
reviewed in issue #260, December 2004

This sort of elektro-industrial-metal that was popular a few years back. Which might have something to do with the seemingly dated album title ("the new millennium" is so 2001). Then again, I've always liked Cheetos, and SOTE is nothing if not cheesy and crunchy.

Silly as all get out (when you've got a song titled "Get Your Dead On," I think you're just asking for that). There are lots of dumb songs about the devil and evil doings and such. I suppose some freaky religious folks might get all worked up, but come on. This stuff may not be entirely a joke--the music is quite stylish and fun--but I don't think there are going to be any ritual sacrifices laid on these folks any time soon.

Fans of Electric Hellfire Club and MLWTTKK and Lords of Acid and the like ought to find a smile or two upon listening to this. I've never understood why guitars have never been a staple of dance club music. There's definitely a time and place, as this album proves.

But whatever. I have a feeling that time has passed SOTE by, and silly geezers like me who occasionally look back with a wry smile are the main audience. Alright. Worse things could happen.

Scully
Discord
(demo)
reviewed in issue #128, 2/17/97

Formerly Spine, which was formerly Puke Weasel. Of course, I've liked whatever has arrived from these guys.

My Mom, of all people pointed out to me that guitarist Doug Minner was a playmate of mine when my family lived in Salina, Kan., from 1973-1976. As soon as she mentioned it, I remembered. Weird how this stuff catches up to you.

Personal reminiscences aside, Scully (the guys swear this is the last name) keeps cranking out metal that seems just a step ahead of the curve. Yeah, there are elements of Pantera and the NYC hardcore sound, but mixed together with a unique sensibility. I happened to see the CMJ write-up of this tape, and I concur. It's what I've said for years: These guys deserve a deal.

I know, metal isn't cool right now. And particularly the heavier stuff (before you get to death metal). But there has to be a place for a band that puts out quality heavy music. Come on.

See also Spine and Puke Weasel.

Sea Dragons
Sea Dragons EP
(self-released)
reviewed in issue #289, September 2007

Five bits of rockin' roots stuff that feels so nice. Nothing complicated; just jangly guitar riffs banged out over a laid back rhythm section.

It sounds so simple...when done right. Sea Dragons are much more rock than, say, Americana--in fact, they're pretty much all rock, except for Daryl Thurston's raggedy vocals. And that combo is most appealing, as I've noted in a number of the reviews in this issue.

Nothing wrong with solid rock and roll, especially when it's played as seamlessly as it is here. I don't know if I'll remember this tomorrow, but it sure gives me a warm feeling tonight.

Sea of Green
Northern Lights EP
(The Music Cartel)
reviewed in issue #200, 6/5/00

A long EP, but six songs clocking in at 26 minutes still fits that description. Sea of Green is another member of the Music Cartel's stoner rock stable. The riffage is straight out of the book of Iommi, but the song construction is a bit grungier.

Kinda like Alice in Chains meets Deep Purple, or something like that. Of course, when you think about it, Alice in Chains did meet Deep Purple, at least in a musical sense. Whatever. I think you get where I'm going here.

And, like most of the other TMC bands, Sea of Green is enjoyable. No new ground being broken, but at least all the bands can be distinguished from each other, and none of them suck.

I'm not really the prime market for this stuff, but even I smiled a bit. Don't go looking for a masterpiece and you just might be happy.

The Sea of Green doesn't vary much from the Black Sabbath formula. The usual stoner rock heavy riffage and echo-laden vocals wailing about something or other. The thing about it is, these guys really do this well.

Well enough to be a tribute band, except that these songs are original (except for a cover of the Floyd tune "Breathe"). This is, in truth, simply a rehash. There's nothing groundbreaking or even remotely new going on. And yet, I'm strangely attracted.

The allure comes in the posturing, the way Sea of Green says, "We know what we sound like and that's just the way it is." There's no pretense, no hiding the origins of the sound. Just a celebration of the primal desire to play some really heavy tuneage.

There are plenty of reasons to dislike these guys. They're playing an increasingly overexposed sort of music, they aren't particularly adventurous and, if you listen hard enough, I'm sure you can hear all sorts of minor thefts. Yet, with all of that, I can't deny the fact that I had fun listening to this puppy. Great driving music. If sheer joy means anything to you, perhaps this disc might be of interest.

Seade
Perf
(Grass)
reviewed in issue #121, 10/21/96

Pronounced "shade", just so you know. Seven songs clocking in at over 40 minutes. You know these tunes are going to be long, and they should mean something.

Sharp playing, in a somewhat midwestern style. At least, they sound like a lot of local bands I heard when I was in college at Missouri. Of course, the band lives in Baltimore or something like that. And there are a few overly dramatic touches that don't quite fit in with my description. But still.

The songs have a cool feel, kinda like heavy jamming as the sun goes down. This is a nice album for drinking. Keeps you on your toes and not too despondent. A bit of the swirly guitar thing, but generally tuneful rock music.

And the longer songs make for more interesting compositions. Seade doesn't repeat itself much, preferring to use the extra time to flesh out ideas. Fine by me. As is the whole album.

Seafood
When Do We Stop Fighting ...
(Nettwerk America)
reviewed in issue #229, May 2002

With lead guitar that neatly bridges the gap between the Wedding Present and standard strident emo and a decidedly American approach, Seafood is hardly your average Britpop outfit.

When I say "American," I'm mostly talking about the slickness of the sound. There is a real emo power pop feel that I'm not used to hearing from British bands (most of whom tend to prefer sweeter hooks and melodies). Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that Eli Janney recorded this puppy in Brooklyn.

The use of dissonant chords and vaguely atonal harmonies colors this music in a most fascinating way. There is, of course, the standard Britpop refusal to stick to the same sound throughout an album (some might call this musical attention deficit disorder, but I prefer "commitment to diversity"), but as usual that somewhat whipsaw writing style falls pleasantly on my ears.

It's interesting; when bands remove just a bit of the honey the hooks become a bit more human, more approachable. Seafood tears itself a few tasty chunks of riffage here, much of it well outside the standard pop realms. Bravo for that.

Seam
Kernel
(Touch and Go)
reviewed in issue #31, 3/31/93

Not knowing enough to recognize where the two covers come from (circa 1986 and 1987, when I was trying to kick a bad Bon Jovi habit), I will say the two original songs sound a lot alike.

This is a bland version of that weird thing some of us call pop psychedelia. I can honestly say I don't like My Bloody Valentine or Lush or Ride or any of that Limey crap (Is Lush British? I don't care). Just plain dull.

Even as this stuff goes, it's kinda boring. Now, I know lots of people who would love this. I'm not qualifying my opinion, I'm just noting this for the record. Right. Next disc, Cannibal Corpse.

Their recent EP was awful self-indulgent and pretty dull. This takes the whole pop psychedelic thing and makes it more interesting.

I still don't really like this scene all that much, but Seam is loads better than all that stoned-out mush wandering over here from England. I refuse to even discuss the stupid things most American bands have tried to do with distortion and a lack of melody.

There is melody here, and the feedback seems to be crafted as part of a plan. I can handle and appreciate that. I can understand the words (not necessary but really nice, considering there's no lyric sheet) and they are fairly interesting.

This isn't going to convert me into an acid-popping Blur freak or anything as dumb as that, but I like this album.

Gentle, mid-tempo pop that usually breaks out at least once per song. This is my favorite Seam release to date, mostly because the band seems to have finally gotten a handle on what it wants to accomplish.

The riffs are less idiosyncratic, and the mood is more playful than anguished. To some, that sounds like going commercial. But Seam has never been one of those "play in a corner" type of bands, so I think this may a case of everything coming together just right.

The production is reasonably lush, but sparse enough to keep the instruments distinct. Perhaps the best way to present this sort of mellow pop.

With this disc, Seam has become a band that I truly like. This either means I have completely changed my mind about the minimalist pop movement, or Seam has gotten a whole lot better. More than likely a little of both, but that doesn't matter.

This is a fine disc, regardless of my mindset.

It does take a while for Seam to put out a new album, so that when it finally arrives, the band has somewhat reinvented itself. The stuff is never quite what was expected.

And from the first crashing chord of "Little Chang, Big City", I knew change was afoot. These songs are raucous and loud, meant to be played at high volume. Not that the craftsmanship has declined; the riffs are meticulously played, even though the level of abandon has increased tenfold.

There are some of the more expected quiet moments, but even those have a somewhat different feel than previous Seam statements. The band hasn't grown up or regressed or anything like that. I mean, Seam has already proven its mettle. But the guys have moved on to new territory.

And I like the direction. Yeah, it's something of a lurch in the direction of the current pop wave, but in Seam fashion. All the distortion that used to quietly crackle now bursts forth in full fury. and I'm not gonna complain. I will, however, hit repeat a few times.

Seance
Forever Laid to Rest
(Black Mark-Cargo)
reviewed in issue #23, 10/31/92

Like God's terrible swift sword, this music just keeps marching on. The only comp