Here then is eP's Best and the Rest wrap up for 2001.

I'm not about to blame my woeful lack of purchasing power and its direct relation to my not having heard everything that there was to hear in the year 2001 on the struggling economy, because these days it seems that it has become the scapegoat for every faltering career, failed business idea or general spiritual malaise. I will say though, that along with the fall of Napster and the use of an antiquated dial-up connection that makes sitting through file downloads an arduous process similar to feigning vital signs during my sophomore seminar on John Donne's metaphysical poetry, my lack of funds made connecting with many of this year's promising releases quite tough. Yet, with the generous alms of Earpollution's many label friends, and the handful of music "necessity" purchases I made, the year provided many welcome musical thrills. Here are ten in no particular order.

• Colonel Les Claypool and The Fearless Flying Frog Brigade, Live Frogs. This one completely recaptures the glorious, carnival excess of the Frog Brigade's live shows. Les is more!

• Zen Guerrilla, Shadows on the Sun. Speaking of live shows, are these guys coming to New England anytime soon?

• Idlewild, 100 Broken Windows. Roddy Woomble: the best U.K. rock name since Mick Woodmansey or Barriemore Barlow. Oh yeah, the album's real solid too.

• Built To Spill, Ancient Melodies of the Future. Doug Martsch is quietly building a comprehensive rock catalog for the ages. File this one under easy listening with well-placed splashes of aggression.

• Wellwater Conspiracy, Scroll and Its Combinations. A modern mix of garage rock and psychedelia brought forth by some of the grunge era's heaviest hitters.

• Jabe, Outback Country Vampire. Music from the backwoods comes alive on the fringes of Beantown. A ripe offering of scuffed-up bluegrass, murder ballads and boisterous folk.

• Love as Laughter, Sea to Shining Sea. Sam Jayne creates thrilling rock anthems that could fill arenas but will probably just end up filling lucky heads. Hey, Dave Grohl, watch out for this guy and his hip band of street rock warriors.

• Operator Generator, Polar Fleet. A satisfying debut album that drives, churns and changes direction like great metal should. Part stoner rock, part classic '80s metal, part '90s thrash, these guys really cook.

• Clutch, Pure Rock Fury. The most balanced offering yet from this wandering posse of rock 'n' roll outlaws.

• Tool, Lateralus. Just when you thought the spirit of progressive rock had faded away, these malcontent virtuosos deliver a densely layered statement and celebrate its release by launching a tour with King Crimson.

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• Joey Ramone. On the cusp of his 50th birthday and on the eve of punk's silver anniversary, Joey Ramone, punk's venerable grandfather, passed away after a long fight with cancer. More than any other band, with their three chord blitzkrieg the Ramones epitomized punk's spirit; and with his lanky frame, rose-tinted glasses, leather jacket and indefatigable attitude, Joey was its heart. Rhino remastering and re-releasing the band's back catalog in glorious digital perfection (which, as an aside, I disagree with--the Ramones' music was never meant to be listened to in anything resembling crisp, digitally remastered, fidelity), a whole new generation has the opportunity to discover the adolescent joy in pogoing up and down while chanting "beat on the brat with a baseball bat." And perhaps, too, they'll understand why we all lost a little the day he died. Take care of yourself, Joey.

• The Appleseed Cast, Low Level Owl: Volumes I and II. Several eP alumni have complained that 2001 didn't offer much in the way of musical gems. While that may be true, I've been so lost in my own private Idaho with the release of these two albums by The Appleseed Cast that I could really care less about anything else. Beautiful and vast, Low Level Owl single-handedly makes up for any of the year's other shortcomings. Put on a good pair of headphones, close your eyes, and let yourself go.

• Sub Pop. As I sat down amongst my piles of albums from 2001, I was amazed at how many of my favorites came from Sub Pop. I have no idea what the bottom number on their ledger looks like for the year, but music-wise...fucking hell...what a great 12 months! With compilation releases from classic bands like Radio Birdman and The Kinks, to releases from new contenders like The Shins and Pleasure Forever, to gems from old familiars like Mark Lanegan, Zen Guerilla, and The Murder City Devils (rest in peace), Sub Pop quietly (and not so quietly) amassed and released an amazing amount of great music during 2001. Thanks.

• Juno. I spent a fair amount of time watching Juno play live in 2001. Funny enough (and it's a common phenomenon I've noticed among many bands), the shows the band seemed dissatisfied with always were the ones the audience enamored themselves to the most. With their sophomore effort, A Future Lived in Past Tense, Juno continue to use epileptic fits of guitar noise (backed by some ace drumming) and obtuse, yet still intimately familiar, lyrics to explore razorwire themes of love, loss, and redemption. My one fear at a Juno show: to be caught singing along to the music. Because even in the midst of hundreds of others, their music can feel like the soundtrack to your life and your life alone. Put on your punk belt and rock it for all the square cools.
  Click here to read an interview with Juno.

• Uptown Sinclair. How I ended up on Uptown Sinclair's mailing list, I have no idea. But the diary updates from the band are some of the most funny, witty things ever to land in my inbox. They arrive infrequently enough that I completely forget I'm on their mailing list, but they always seem to come at times when my life could use a little levity. Oh yeah, and the band write pretty damn fine music, too (of the indie upbeat pop variety).

• Guided by Voices, Isolation Drills. Robert Pollard is on a crusade to save rock 'n' roll...and he's winning! On album, Guided by Voices is a rock 'n' roll hit churning machine that even jaded indie kids can love. Short, sweet pieces that live and play out just long enough to offer you an exquisite taste before pushing off onto the next number. Live? Exactly the same...only with drinking. Lots of drinking! The club is open, so step up to the bar and let's worship together.

• Mogwai, Rock Action. Because they're fucking Mogwai, dammit!

• Sepultura, Nation / Biohazard, Uncivilization. Long before nu-metal became a marketable MTV commodity--in fact, long before that name had even been termed--bands like Sepultura and Biohazard had been kicking out an aggressive and unique hybrid of tribal punk/metal. With their latest releases, both bands still prove that they have a lot of muscle and musicianship left to bleed. Modern day nu-metal subscribers could take a few lessons here, including the fact that it is first about intelligence, and second about posturing. If your band's not marginally bright enough to figure that out, give it up, because to me you still sound like you're swinging from tree to tree and jumping up and down on Samsonite luggage like the stupid apes your music makes you out to be.

• Roger Waters, Amused to Death. In the wake of September 11th, I've been listening to this album...a lot. Released in 1992, Roger Waters take on the religion of politics and media that drove (perhaps even inspired?) the Gulf War are still just as relevant today with the United States' ongoing "fight against terrorism" as they were back then. Yeah, it was released nearly ten years ago, and it still made my list for 2001. Go figure. "What God wants, God gets / God help us all."

• Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, B.R.M.C. Believe the hype. This band is that good.

• Pitchshifter. Usually, my year end list includes releases and/or shows by the mighty PSI, as they're always a guaranteed delight. However, in 2001 the band ensconced itself inside a Hoboken, New Jersey, studio along with Machine (who produced 1998's www.pitchshifter.com) busily recording a follow up to 2000's Deviant, and in doing so have been hiding themselves from American audiences, their freakishly devoted fans, and me.

  So instead, while visiting the East Coast this past October I somehow found myself in several Hoboken, and shortly thereafter perched upon a barstool with Messrs. Jon "The 'S' is for 'Sally'" Clayden and James "What's Her Fucking Name? I Can't Remember Her Name!" Davies (PSI's vocalist and guitatist, respectively), drinking mightily and generally being a menace (which really isn't that difficult to do in Hoboken). Jon "Look, My Cell Phone is Smaller than Zoolander's!" Clayden soon disappeared back to the band's apartment and warm thoughts of his lady in L.A., while somehow Jim "Somebody Tell Me Her Name!" Davies and I chatted up two lovely ladies who were kind enough (read: gullible) to invite us back to their apartment, only to let us throw (read: unable to stop) all sorts of household items off the 12th floor balcony of their apartment building, including (among other things): flower pots, planter boxes, a can of gasoline (attempted, but not achieved), household cleaning items, and a few rather large pumpkins. Fortunately, I couldn't get the lid off the can of gasoline (either I was too drunk or the cap was ratcheted on too tight), so it stayed put (as well it should have).

  While I would like to apologize to the above-mentioned ladies for being completely drunken and inexcusable buffoons, I would like to point out that we skillfully avoided hitting any of the numerous SUVs parked on the streetside below...against our better judgment. And while stumbling blindly drunk for several miles through the streets of Hoboken in the very early hours trying to find our way back to the band's apartment, I discovered many good and wholesome things about both myself and humanity...all of which I promptly forgot when I woke up stuptifyingly hungover the next morning.

  What did you expect? Ahh, it just wouldn't be another year without Pitchshifter involved somehow...

  Click here to read one of Craig's interviews with Pitchshifter.

• Earpollution. Hey, no shameless promotion here, but I do feel we have a right to toot our own horn now and again. As we head into our fourth year of eP, I feel very fortunate to be surrounded by such talented and committed writers who, literally, are spread across the globe in both physical location and musical inclination. For having no other motivation for publishing Earpollution than our own tainted love of music and wacko, misplaced sense of dedication, we continue to publish monthly issues that have substance and quality--and more importantly, issues that have heart.

  It is an honor to work with such fine people, and Earpollution has been (and will continue to be) an experience that will be long remembered. Thanks.

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