-Sabrina Haines
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Music Soulchild

-Cecil Beatty-Yasutake
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Joseph van Fossen's vocals are burning with contempt, but still fairly decipherable and his guitar skills are as wild and driven as any demon set loose from hell with vengeance on its mind. I'm fairly sure that Noctuary isn't a one-man band, but if so van Fossen is damn good. When Fires Breed Blood is divided into five chapters (mostly comprised of two songs): Chapter I: "The Fires, Burning Cold," Chapter II: "A Call to Arms," Chapter III: "The Battles," Chapter IV: "A Victory Celebration" and Chapter V: "The Rebirth." You can kind of figure out the story by the chapter titles.

The U.S. is virtually bereft of black metal bands when compared to the rest of the world and, usually, U.S. black metal is not worth owning. Noctuary is a welcome addition to the black metal scene; finally, we have a black metal band we can point to with nationalistic pride. They may not be ready to push Immortal, Emperor or Satyricon off their lofty perches, but they can hold their own with the second tier of black metal. Even Norwegians wouldn't turn up their noses at this release. Yes, you should definitely support and encourage Noctuary.

-Sabrina Haines
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Oasis

Nevertheless, Oasis' Familiar to Millions is a highly worthwhile album for anyone still interested in the Gallaghers--and it's a whole lot more appropriate than their last two studio albums. Liam knows it: four tracks into the album he says as much. Just as the guitars start to gun and the drums thump on the band's first and best single, 1994's "Supersonic," Liam says to Noel over the roar of the crowd, "You should write more of these songs, Noel. Write a couple more of these babies." Indeed, there seems to have been a whopping case of misdirection after the group's first album, Definitely Maybe. The band first reached public consciousness with "Supersonic," a menacing, snide, gritty number with a melody that crawled up your neck. At the moment of the band's impact, the enduring image was Liam at the mic, snout skyward, hands clasped behind his back, snarling into the mic in a Lydon-meets-Lennon drawl, the band a wash of scowling guitars. The whole album was a clawing, rough plate of pub fare with just enough beauty to keep it out of coarser regions. What's the Story Morning, Morning Glory?--the album that made them a global sensation--followed with harmless but pretty anthems like "Wonderwall" and the clumsily Lennonized "Don't Look Back in Anger."

The group increasingly lost the plot from there, however, with two albums hardly worth mention in this space. On Familiar to Millions, however, the clumsy Beatlesque pretensions, hokey string sections and Noel's obligatory acoustic balladry are all gone. The group's live set used to lend a good chunk of time to Noel's solo acoustic ventures. Here, however, nary an acoustic is strummed; even "Wonderwall" bears down like sandpaper, with Liam's ragged, road-abused growl and the jagged guitars lending it coarse beauty. "Acquiesce," an early B-side and perhaps the group's best song, crunches menacingly then sails clear of the murk on Liam and Noel's call and answer. Even the material from the group's last studio album, Standing on the Shoulder of Giants, is fully realized here. "Gas Panic" ("A good fookin' tune, this one. So listen carefully," announces Liam--after it's already underway) expands the group's sonic palette with tripped-out keyboards rising against the group's muscular guitar attack.

A good part of the story is the new lineup. Guitarist Gem Archer and bassist Andy Bell (yes, the guitarist from Ride for all you shoegazers) weren't around to rescue the last studio album. But here, they clearly outshine their predecessors. Bell is a nimble, creative bassist. (Did any of you Anglophiles catch Oasis' live cover of The Who's "My Generation" on the BBC, with Andy ripping through John Entwistle's bass fills?) Guitarist Gem, formerly of Heavy Stereo, has a much more cunning way of working against Noel, avoiding Bonehead's wall of distortion for a more flexible (and skillful) rhythm approach. When this lineup, which is now road-tested from an around-the-globe slog (that involved Noel leaving the group to finish Europe without him), hits the studio, they're going to tear it up.

My predictions: 1) Oasis aren't going anywhere--they'll endure as silly wonderful rock stars for a long time (and I'll take them over a plateful of Limp Bizkits or whatever lame American fare is being served in long shorts in the main dining room). 2) They'll cover a Nirvana song sometime in the future. 3.) They're going to realize that their identity gelled on their first album and return to those rugged principles.

-Erik Hage
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Outkast

Phone: Ring, Ring...
Me: Hello.
Bro: What up bro? Whatcha doin'?
Me: Nothin' really, just working on my eP reviews.
Bro: Man have you heard the new Outkast album...
Me: ...No.
Bro: It's easily the album of the year!
Me: Really?! I would nominate De La Soul's Art Official Intelligence... personally.
Bro: I'm telling you this album is hot, you have to check it out.
Me: It's all that huh?
Bro: Yeah you should review it!
Me: I'll check it out...

The lesson here, folks, is be careful what you ask for; it's moments like these that make me think today's youth suffer from a lack of history and an instant gratification jones the likes of which society has never seen before. Stankonia is a hyperFunkyraunchyPsychedelic, fun hip-hop album that will make Gen-Xers and older recall classics like Funkadelic's Maggot Brain and One Nation Under a Groove. What's unique about this album in comparison to others that have been inspired by such storied funk classics, is Dre and Big Boi's creative use of George Clinton's irreverent, rowdy, chitlin-and-toe-jam funk manna. They didn't just loop a Funkadelic track, or sample some Parliament like many of their contemporaries have done. They absorbed it and spit out on Stankonia something altogether different yet familiar. In the process, they created their own Southern brand of psychedelic funk that definitely makes this album one of the best hip-hop albums of the year, but not the best album overall, okay bro? See Erykah Badu Mama's Gun review for more on this.

-Cecil Beatty-Yasutake
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Biosphere

That was a few years ago. Now it seems that FAX's production schedule has been slowed, leaving a lot of these folk with too much time on their hands--too much time to second-guess the direction of the label and nit about the current releases. Fortunately, this year ends with a bang and, in the collective silence which has followed the release of The Fires of Ork 2, you can actually hear the subtleties of this album as they gradually open up to you. An easy candidate for ambient album of the year, The Fires of Ork 2 is a sublime blending of Namlook's fondness for movie dialogue, synth melodies, and guitar tinglings with Biosphere's (Jenssen's regular moniker) incomparable sense of atmosphere and space.

In a year that saw, well, uh, Biosphere's Cirque and Outland 4 (Namlook collaborating with Bill Laswell), as well as Virtual Vices 2 (Namlook and Peter Prochir) and Possible Gardens (Namlook again with Wolfram Spyra)--okay, so it isn't easy to pick a clear winner for the year. Let's just call The Fires of Ork 2 necessary--fantastic ambience which should necessarily find its way into your collection.

-Mark Teppo
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Rage Against the Machine

Whether it's covers of Eric B. and Rakim's "Microphone Fiend," Minor Threat's "In My Eyes" or Bruce Springsteen's "The Ghost of Tom Joad," each gets a no-holds-barred treatment by the incendiary delivery of De la Rocha's vocals and the guitar histrionics of Tom Morello. Along with the aforementioned Minor Threat and Springsteen covers, the band's version of Cypress Hill's "How I Could Just Kill a Man" simply explodes with thunder. Renegades' closer, Bob Dylan's "Maggie's Farm," lacks a certain oomph (or perhaps suffers from too much of it), but the band's stripped-down, somber delivery on Devo's "Beautiful World"--originally a bouncy, pop affair--shows that the band's political point of view is not always best delivered with menacing volume.

It's hard to imagine Rage as a viable musical form without De la Rocha's presence. Whatever may happen as a result of his departure, Renegades stands not only as a testament to the power and appeal of the band's political music and message, but does an amazing job of showcasing artists and genres whose music is rarely found under the same roof; something that in and of itself makes Renegades worthy of your attention.

-Craig Young
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Snuggled in with these cards is a 3-inch CD which contains music slightly revised from S.Alt's live performance at Maschinenfest 1999. These two tracks pulse and growl and hiss with feedback and rattling noises like contact mics buried deep within a furious anthill. This is the manifesto of Ant-Zen: design and music that makes you think microscopically while still overwhelming you with the expansive spaces that can be found in every surface and beneath every sound.

-Mark Teppo
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Scorn

Greetings from Birmingham is like the last ten minutes in Night of the Living Dead. You've boarded up the windows and blocked the doors. You're out of shotgun shells, nails, baseball bats, dishware, and all you can do is cower in the tiny cupboard under the stairs as the zombies bang and bang at the wooden walls. They're going to get in sooner or later; it's just a matter of time. Listening to a Scorn album is a similar assault--a relentless pounding and tearing at your ears and brain until you collapse. But Harris doesn't come at you like a lot of the current noise terrorists who have found home at Ant-Zen and the Hymen sister label; Scorn drags itself ponderously across the floor at you, making a noisy approach like inevitable thunder. Every subsonic basso thud is an ever-widening hole in your defenses. The screeches and whines and groans are the sound of your body breaking down--your defenses fragmenting.

Greetings from Birmingham has a musty miasma to it--a "been there, done that" sort of smell. But don't turn your back on Scorn yet; there's still life here--blasted rhythms from tracks like "Told You Can Tell" and "Closedown" have a ragged funkiness hanging from them. The clattering sense of hip-hop rhythms and deranged metallic melodies may just be the sight of something fresh growing in the once-still body.

-Mark Teppo
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Skyclad

Folkemon is extraordinary...a must purchase for metalheads and the Celtic music fanatics running amok in the world. Songs like "The Great Train Robbery" and "Think Back and Lie of England" should be huge radio hits if all were right in the world. Evidently something is very wrong in this world and Skyclad addresses the injustices of the world in their tunes. There is a touch of punk, a touch of folk and a dash of metal in these well-worn tracks.

I cannot get enough of Folkemon (awesome name). Martin Walkyier has one of those voices that just grab hold of your ears and holds you spellbound. Walkyier is smooth without being loungy, melodic not Top 40, and has a touch of mystery in his vocals. Much better musically than the aforementioned Pogues man Shane McGowan. Musically, the band behind him contributes the atmosphere and rocking grooves to match his persona. It's not a one-man band at all. But he is a traditional frontman that will demand (and get) your attention. If you've been living under the Blarney Stone, it's time to stop pushing up daisies and get Folkemon.

-Sabrina Haines
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Snog

Relax into the Abyss is ostensibly a remix album, culling material from his previous Third Mall from the Sun release, but with several new tracks interspersed. Getting assistance from Belgium, Germany, the United States, and fellow Australians, Thrussell beats and bludgeons the corporate beast with utter aplomb. Relax into the Abyss is sparkling satire crafted from the inside. You are led to believe that Thrussell loves the very system which he is deconstructing and revealing. Snog puts a smile on your face as you succumb to the temptation of materialism, but this smile is cracked and chipped--a sure sign the power of cash money is losing its grip.

-Mark Teppo
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Theatre of Tragedy

-Steve Weatherholt
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Thee Ultra Bimbos

On Thee Ultra Bimboos' latest release, Four Fans Can't Be Wrong, we see them cleaning up their songs, but without losing the melodies and hooks. It reminds me how the Ramones cleaned up on End of the Century, but did not lose much of their power. If the song "100% Freak" doesn't shake you out of your illusion, then you should go find out if the grass is really greener on the other side. If Thee Ultra Bimboos were not from Finland they would be a huge hit; the record mega-moguls would be scratching and clawing to sign them.

-Steve Weatherholt
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TRS-80

Named after the Radio Shack computer from the '80s, TRS-80 give the impression that they come equipped with an equal simplicity. I'm a firm believer in the philosophy that creating something simple is far more difficult that creating something complex. The genius behind TRS-80 isn't just what's there, often times it's what's not there.

Crammed with 11 tracks of pure dub bliss, Manhattan Love Machine gets ranked as Number One electronic music album of 2000. A hilarious side note: This album contains the recorded answering machine messages from what sounds to be an idiot acquaintance of the band--you simply must hear it. The entire album has this sort of wicked sense of humor. For visuals, check out the website.

-Jeff Ashley
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Vox Barbara

Yeah, there's no real way to paraphrase that into an introductory sentence without coming off like a total loon. I have to admit there's a certain level of "I've been watching way too many episodes of The X-Files" type skepticism that I had to overcome to properly appreciate the echoes of the past. While Frank utilizes field recordings from various environments (including ones taken from a retired automobile ferry) as his present source, it is the final result wherein he asks you to wonder at the full historic reverberation of the sonic environment. The tracks of (de)Constructed Ghosts are not snapshots; rather, they are complete aural timelines of objects and events. There is an archaeological twist to Frank Smith's recontextualization and noise sculpting: he's not so much interested in a sound in and of itself, but rather of what it was and what it may become in its own context. After a few listens, it becomes akin to leaning in an old well and listening for echoes that may still be bouncing around down in the darkness. You toss out your own voice--or throw a stone against the worn, brick walls--and what comes back to you is not just the echo of your event, but other sounds disturbed by your passage--sonic ghosts which float up, heavy and replete with the past.

There's a lot of history in Seattle tied around the Kalakala--the unique silver-shelled ferry that sits unattended (for a few more weeks at least) at the end of Lake Union. I used to drive across the University Street Bridge every morning on the way to work and the morning light would make the rounded shape of the futuristically-shaped ferry gleam. Somewhere in (de)Constructed Ghosts Frank Smith may have uncovered the sounds of the ferry when it traveled across Elliott Bay--the sound of the water against its hull, the rumble of the old cars climbing on and off at the wooden docks, and the chatter of society voices echoing in its upper decks. This is a truly unique recording, eerie in its possibilities, and endless in the depths of its sonic vibrations and turbulent rhythms.

-Mark Teppo
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Weston

The Massed Albert Sounds furthers itself when you realize all these lush textures were captured in two takes or less inside the recording studio--something Weston refer to as "the art of live production": "A recording that celebrated unperfection. We wanted to frame a moment. Both the failures and the brilliance of this record created that very thing."

Brilliance, yes. I've yet to find any failures. The Massed Albert Sounds is well worth the time to find. I'd loan you mine, but I can't seem to get it out of my stereo.

-Craig Young
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