I first heard this record when I was 12, and by then I was already a huge Coltrane fan and listening to lots of different music. But I initially couldn't get into the sound. It's almost mind-bogglingly odd at first. Honestly, I thought it sounded like a bunch of people got trashed and starting playing instruments in a studio. There was no predictability, no easily recognizable melody or riffs, and certainly no pop hooks. But that has changed some with listening. At first, I really disliked the first two cuts, which together go on for 45 minutes and take up an entire disc. Those are some long compositions, to be sure. Especially when you're convinced that someone had spiked their coffee in a "Grace Slick visits the White House" manner. Thus, I couldn't even sit through them the first time around. So, I switched to the second disc. Then stuff started to click. Maybe there's just something about the first cut on it that grabbed me. At any rate, it did grab me. Viciously, too. It kicked my 12-year-old butt, threw my poppier CDs out the window, tied me into a chair, and forced me to marvel at its jazzy glory.

Not really. However, B!tches Brew is certainly fascinating. I have finally come around to the first disc, and both discs are truly masterpieces. The individual pieces seem to be almost mood landscapes, but very dark ones. The electric pianos give a spacey feel to the music, while the bass clarinet really adds some residual creepiness to the mix. The exotic rhythm gives a taste of Africa or the West Indies. John McLaughlin's awesome guitar playing certainly is an emotional ingredient to the brew, whether it be smooth, jazzy explorations, or more gutsy and raw rock licks. One very interesting aspect is the presence of both acoustic and electric bass at the same time. That gives a real feel of depth to the music, almost like an ocean trench. Then of course, Miles is "runnin' the voodoo down" on his trumpet. The sound is night-oriented in as much as it has a very after-dark feel to it. I get images of dark beaches on remote islands when I listen to it.

Each song really conjures up a mysterious and majestic world of its own. Since there are but a few cuts...you notice I've said cuts instead of songs? That's intentional. To me, song implies a definite, recognizable structure. The musical comparison to a stricter poetic set, like a sonnet. Fairly defined rules, but lots of flexibility on some counts, and unlimited creativity within the frame. This music is very much outside the box. Long, stretched-out grooves that have some planning, but are often very improvisational and moody. So, here are some images that come to mind, both serious and not. Why? Because I'm killing time. On second thought, why break this up cut-by-cut? I'll just throw words at you. Shoehorn, duck, tan, fingernails...oh yeah, these words are supposed to be related to B!tches Brew. Okay, Martha Stewart, Courtney Love, Tipper Gore, George W. Bush...okay, I'll be serious this time. Night, beaches, tropics, primitive life, rhythm, spontaneity, wildness, sinister, unpredictability, encroaching darkness, hot deserts, searing yet cooling....get the picture?

Basically, repeated listenings of B!tches Brew really sucked me into another world this album creates like no other. It's beyond stunning and emotionally amazing. It created a whole new genre by combining two existing ones. It's rock, but it's jazz. It's unique. It also influenced me to look into more stuff like it, and since it was my first Miles Davis record, I think it helped introduce me into jazz (along with Geri Allen's The Gathering), since Coltrane was the only jazz I listened to prior to this. However, there is a flaw in all of this unique greatness. IT'S TOO LONG! At least for one sitting. At least an hour and a half's worth of fusion on two discs....ay chihuahua! Also, while certainly unique, it's also somewhat repetitive. Similar rhythms, similar instrumentation, and let's face it, improvisation is by no means limitless. But this is ideal for jazz fans, as it sends you on a far-out trip. Whee!

ATLiens, their second disc, brought some backlash from a rap game wanting its pimps and hoes and not wanting to hear about aliens and other topics. This is clearly reflected in "Return of the G," which is a clear mockery of the gangsta rap scene, its fanbase, and the homogenization of the genre. Andre is particularly critical of "n!ggas that think you soft and say y'all be gospel rappin' but they be steady clappin' when you talk about ... & switches & hoes & clothes & weed". The duo go on to attack the effects of overreliance on technology in "Synthesizer" (featuring George Clinton himself), and drug use is briefly criticized in "Y'all Scared". But don't worry, Outkast aren't always in attack mode. Songs such as "Rosa Parks" and "Skew It on the Bar-B" are more fun, abstract tunes that come from the 80's "brag" school without resorting to gangsta-isms, while other tunes, such as "Da Art of Storytellin' Part 1" focus on aspects of the individual's lives and growing up in Georgia.

Soundwise, the production is phenomenal. The southern-kissed sound is still there, including an awesome harmonica break in "Rosa Parks" (which still gets played to death on the radio), but there are a few more elements introduced, such as "Da Art of Storytellin Part 2," which is a very haunting, bleak companion to its complete opposite "Da Art of Storytellin Part 1," both lyrically and musically (you have to hear it to believe it). "Synthesizer" features quite a bit of clean singing, from Dre and the king of funk himself George Clinton. Elements of chamber music appear at times as well, and many of the tracks embrace a darker more bleak tone to them than did past albums. The duo seems most comfortable doing their deep south thang, however, especially on swampy sounding tracks like "West Savannah" and the nice acoustic guitar-laden "Rosa Parks."

Rhythmically, this is where Outkast fully ditched the simplistic meter of the past and began to employ more progressive rhythms. From machine gun fast ranting to intricate staccato syncopation, the group employs a number of tricks. Big Boi definitely loves performing counterpoints to the beat, occasionally purposefully falling slightly behind the beat or anunciating the beat where a beat normally wouldn't fall (think rap's own Meshuggah), which keeps it fresh.

Overall, I'd have to say this is Outkast's best album to date, highly recommended for any fan of rap.

The main focus on this album is Layne Staley's increasing drug problem, first hinted in "Sickman," a song that features an opening tribal drum beat that leads into Staley's menacing yells of the possessed and cryptic lyrics, and its unpredictable, offbeat changes to a slower section is a highlight. "Angry Chair" is also built on a driving, aggressive drum track, with an atmospheric guitar riff, and an intruiging, indecipherable rhyming pattern that hints of pain and confusion. The melody and overall structure of the song also helps it to become probably the album's best. The slower "Junkhead" deals with the outside world's non-understanding and disgust with his problems, while "God Smack" is a convincing and menacing track with a scary chorus (and a song that inspired a rip-off band of the same name).

Jerry Cantrell, meanwhile, continues to showcase his knack for writing memorable riffs and eerily melodic songs. "Dam That River" has more of that aggressive and direct riffing with a musical vibe that very much conveys a polluted river with a red sky hanging over it (nice guitar solo here too). "Down In A Hole" is a very personal tune, with surreal Cantrell and Staley harmonies that has such a haunting atmosphere, no wonder it's a major fan favorite. The lengthy war story set to music in "Rooster" finds Staley singing the lyrics in the point of view of Cantrell's father, whose Vietnam War experiences inspired the song. And, of course, the album couldn't be complete without the closing "Would?" which is one of the band's biggest hit singles featuring a distinctive bassline, echoey vocals from Cantrell in the verses, a memorable chorus and solo, and an ending, aggressive performance from Staley (R.I.P.). Oh, and that creepy cover art is just badass.

The whole tone of the album is exciting and upbeat in being constructed as a tribute to Bon, and almost every damn track is a classic. The only one I really don't like is the closing "Rock And Roll Ain't Noise Pollution," not that it's bad, just nothing to get excited about and it pales in comparison to the other songs here. The album starts off perfectly with "Hells Bells," featuring an ominous tolling bell at the beginning and an effective dark, cartoonish vibe to its catchy chorus. "Shoot To Thrill" has an exciting and really loose, gloriously violent feel to it that makes it pretty good. The sleazy nonsense of "What Do You Do For The Money Honey" is justified by the catchy guitar playing. Have I mentioned yet what a fabulous rhythm guitarist Malcolm Young is? Absolutely fabulous. My favorite songs on this album, however, are all in a row on the second side of the album. "Back In Black" has one of the best power grooves ever committed to tape. It's extremely simplistic, but still an incredible song. "You Shook Me All Night Long" is a big radio staple, and it's easy to see why. The song is a perfectly executed groove and has a solid, memorable anthemic chorus, so you definitely won�t hear me knocking it. Then there's the obvious tribute to Bon in the extremely fun party-like "Have A Drink On Me." Another really catchy chorus on this one, well-done irony throughout and a fantastic opening riff.

The Zep/Stones influence on this album is obvious, but these boys never overreach: they're not trying to show off how many music lessons they've taken, they're not trying to be hip or intellectual, they're not paying tribute to the old blues masters, they're not trying to save the world - they're just playing rock and roll.

This album is really beautiful. The radio hit, "Don't Know Why," showcases Jones's subtle, moody vocals and accomplished jazz piano playing, which makes her sound years more mature than 23. "Don't Know Why" is soft and seductive without being overly sexual, which is a theme that runs throughout the whole album. "Come Away With Me" reminds me of a lullaby. It's endearing, child-like, and it just sounds sweet. "Turn Me On" has an almost country feel, and "I've Got To See You Again" is one of those songs that you wish there was more of. It's darkly lovely and stands out as a highlight. "The Nearness Of You" reminds me of summer mornings - lying in bed, relaxed, and just being lazy. It's also evocative of old-school jazz legends like Billie Holiday and Etta James.

The rest of the tunes on CAWM aren't as good, but still pleasant enough. I think the only real low point of the album is that Jones has a beautiful voice, but she's never going to blow you away. She has range, but doesn't use it that much and stays pretty mellow. In some ways, that's good, because she doesn't come off as a pushy overachiever (an easy trap for a vocalist to fall into on a debut), but I would still be interested in hearing more of her singing talents on the next album.

The bottom line is that Norah Jones isn't some flash-in-the-pan, one hit wonder pretty girl who pretends to be a jazz artist. I encourage anybody who thinks that to give this album a chance. Within its walls lies a talented woman whose love for jazz shines through in a big way.

There's maybe only one truly awful song in the title track, an awfully simplistic and boring groove that just seems to repeat itself forever and ever with that 'screw em just to see the look on their face' line, but still, the opening two tracks ("Jungle Man" and "Hollywood") come out totally flat and unconvincing, particularly the latter's generic 'party' vibe and plodding tempo, the closing "Yertle The Turtle" has annoying spoken bits to go along with pretty much no melody or excitement (though at least "The Brother's Cup", dumb as it is, has some entertaining moments within). Oh, and there's also a whole bunch of absolutely useless brief filler tracks that serve no purpose except for being idiotic jokes and space fillers (particularly the inane "Sex Rap" and the directionless "Battle Ship").

The saving grace of this album, though, are the two fairly excellent highlights. The band didn't actually write "If You Want Me To Stay" and that phenomenally groovy bassline and vocal melody it has (credit that to Sly and the Family Stone), but it nonetheless possesses such a tight, incredible amount of presence that it's easily the best on the album. The other somewhat impressive song is the hilariously stupid "Catholic School Girls Rule", whose fast tempo, lyrics and chanting are so incredibly over the top and ridiculous that I can never resist it at all. Too bad it's so short at less than 2 minutes. But regardless of those, do not buy this album, since these two gems can be found on What Hits?!.

I recently got this collection of sides originally released in 1949 and 1950 by the Miles Davis Nonet, not released on LP until 1957. The unusual instrumentation (with French horn and tuba) is carefully used by the arrangers (including Gil Evans, Gerry Mulligan and John Lewis) to create an incredibly full sound, with a remarkable range of tonal colors. The tunes are also incredibly beautiful. The famous "cool" sound is a bit too reserved for my taste, and the arrangements have a certain Hollywood aroma, but there's no denying the power and originality of the work here. Fans may find this jarring because of its transitional nature, with obvious big band elements such as Kenny Hagood's dated-sounding vocal on "Darn That Dream." Some of the arrangements display the breathtaking complexity of later records, though.

The band's later inclination towards epic arrangements is still in early bloom here, as "Phantom of the Opera" shows. The seven minute song is the band's first epic track and shows a good sense of ambitious arrangement as well as the twin lead guitar attack the band would ultimately be infamous for. But the album also offers a lot of dirtier and harder rocking songs like the opening "Prowler" and "Running Free". And as a very interesting counterpart to the epics and rocking tracks, "Strange World" and "Remember Tomorrow" are both hypnotic and geniunely introspective mellow pieces that prove the band could quiet things down to create a very strong pensive mood. Original lead vocalist Paul Di'anno offers a fabulous gritty voice to the material. His voice is what originally lent Iron Maiden a street level credibility that other, higher octave bands might not have gotten in 1980.

Even when compared to their awesome later releases, the debut from Maiden still holds a place as a remarkable album in my collection.

The sound is thick with drums and vocals, but the guitars are rather muddy and blunt. There's something almost hysterically frantic about it, as if Trey and company are in the greatest hurry to get it done with. I can imagine Sandoval frothing at the mouth while drumming: I don't know if it is sheer hatred and spite that propels these people, but whatever it is does the job very well. I maintain that David Vincent is one of the best death metal vocalists ever and here we get a great performance from him. Powerful and charismatic, back when he still had a concept of good music and lots of energy and ideas to go with it (as opposed to now, where he indulges in unspeakable decadence and musical debauchery). His basswork is probably good, since it's impossible to hear anyway (except for a rare moment on "Suffocation," on which I largely base my opinion). Of course, Trey's solos are the most remarkable aspect of Morbid Angel. It's like pure, nihilistic frenzy: a possessed Malmsteen already on crack couldn't dream of coming up with something like this, which is about as fast as his own solos but infinitely more twisted. Uglier than a frostbitten hag with warts, they're about as far removed from the normative concepts of "human music" and "melody" as possible. But definitely enjoyable - not just as some freaky sounds, but as genuine expressions of nihilism from the creator. It takes time to appreciate them, but it's like an epiphany when you understand them. The riffs are unplayable by most guitarists: too technical and convoluted for even the above-average wrist to reproduce, but enjoyable nonetheless. The lyrics constitute deliberate dysphemism of satano-sumerian poetry. Christianity here is mocked rather clumsily, with total disregard to any sort of literary elegance (well, at least they could've tried!).

An extremely energetic and rewarding listen, and don't dismiss it just because it is the band's first. Often, the first record captures a band at its rawest and craziest, and that is definitely the case here.

Not everything on The Fat Of The Land is bad, though. "Breathe," easily the best track, succeeds in making a groovy, danceable atmosphere with the constant rhythm actually working well and not growing tiresome for a whole four minutes. It's also surprising to find that, while "Narayan" does repeat itself way too much in places, it is far from as bad as you'd expect as a nine-minute tune from an album like this. Parts of it are actually really good. The ending, though repetitive, does manage to still hold interest. The intro to "Mindfields" is good, although the song eventually blows itself to hell after that by slipping back into the same thing we've heard over and over here.

But the rest... yuck. "Funky Sh*t" has nothing going for it at all, the predictable beats backed by the line "That's some funky sh*t!" repeated over and over throughout the song. Not what I want to hear. And the rapping on "Disel Power" is atrocious, some of the worst I've ever heard, and I'm not even going to mention the awful lyircs. "Firestarter" is (and I never thought I'd say this) too British for its own good, some worthless rants with an accent that really doesn't fit the music at all, and rather it seems to be the emphasis of the vocal delivery. What a joke. The attempt at aggression in "Fuel My Fire" falls flat on its face, turning out no more than laughable.

God knows why this was (and still is) so big. Most of it just sounds like generic techno, nothing groundbreaking, innovative or even interesting. It all sounds the same to me, repeated over and over until, *yawn*, is it over yet? Finally. If it weren't for "Breathe," I would gladly give this album one star.

The search for self saturates the material, from the tortured "Wild" to the unapologetic "Not A Virgin" to the impassioned "Could've Gone Mad". In each song, Poe is trying to make sense of the total of her life, from her childhood memories (eerily represented by the voices of little girls), to the death of her father, to her current fears and vulnerabilities. Her messages are conveyed through her unique use of traditional instruments deconstructed through computers and then recombined to create a very atmospheric sound.

While with an album like Haunted, a lesser songwriter would fall into the traditional cliches of pain and sorrow, Poe is able to give her own unique spin to these elements lyrically. On the tough "Control", she turns the tables on her opponent with lines like "While you busy destroying my life / What was half in me has become whole". Despite the simplicity of the words in the unforgettable "Amazed", Poe's anguished delivery make lines like "I'm not really sure just what it is you do, but do it again" echo beautifully in the listener's mind.

Like most albums that revolve around a concept, Haunted is preferably listened to all together in one sitting, and at over an hour, that's sometimes a lot to ask. A few tracks don't have much to say out of the context of the album, but all together, they merge into a touching and disquieting work. Few musicians are on the same level as Poe in terms of her bravery exposing and expressing her own personal fears.

The three-girls-out-front-and-a-guy-at-the-back formation has long been a textbook staple of rock. However, the Lolita Storm version tears up that old cliche, sets it on fire and then throws up on it. Jimmy Too-Bad brings the noise while the female vocalists - Spex, Nhung Napalm and Romy Medina - go at it like amphetamine-addled, punk rock cheerleaders from the St. Trinians class of 2000.

Released through Digital Hardcore's Fatal subsidiary, G-F-S-U is a 15-track, 26-minute exercise in vintage punk attitude, set to the accompaniment of post-millennial noise terror. It's remarkable to hear some actual punk music from modern bands whose members aren't old enough to remember 1976. Musically - although the word can't really be used in this context - Lolita Storm cover familiar Digital Hardcore ground with their smashed-up auto pile-up beats and pneumatic drill aesthetic. In places, the cacophony is such that it makes some of ATR's 60-Second Wipe Out sound almost like well-produced easy-listening. In other words, quite brilliant.

Lyrically, Lolita Storm articulates a feminist sensibility of sorts. On one level, they seem concerned simply with being as obnoxious, loud, and puerile as pubescent boys and singing about wanking or scoring a knee-trembler in the bog. At the same time, they're locked into an abject relationship with the male of the species, telling the listener how much guys suck, but also how much they love them really.

Still, the overall effect of G-F-S-U seems to be at odds with the rationale behind Fatal. The label was set up by Atari Teenage Riot's Hanin Elias "to give young girls and women an alternative to the typical MTV cliches" - so the press release goes - and to provide a space for women in the Techno boys' club to develop their own "directional style and identities." While that sounds great in theory, it has to be said that the women of Lolita Storm perform a caricatured identity which is no less stereotypical than the models of femininity currently available in the mass media. We've certainly seen sexed-up brattiness before, and it seems like the sort of one-line-joke image of rebelliousness that "the System" can accommodate quite comfortably. Lolita Storm's bubblegum 'n' hardcore hybrid is undeniably compelling and immensely funny. Whether this is authentic riot grrrl power for the digital hardcore age or simply cartoon feminism - that's really no different from the Spice Girls - is another matter.

The lesser-known tracks are also great. "Acoustic #3" is unfortunately short, but true to its title, it is stripped down to a bare acoustic bone except for some touches of orchestration. It has a truly beautiful vocal melody that I love. The closer "Hate This Place" is wonderful uplifting pop (despite the negative title). Robby Takac's shot voice actually works on "Amigone." "Full Forever" and the slow-paced "All Eyes On Me" work fine, too. So go ahead and buy this even if you've only heard the radio singles - there's more of the same here, introspective ballads and jangly alt-rock tunes. Great light listening that definitely has more substance than the average pop record.

This collection captures some of their most memorable songs and everything about the Police that made them a good band. "Roxanne" is Sting's defining moment as a vocalist and probably one of my favorite songs by the band. "Message In A Bottle" is a faster reggae rocker that some people say is grating, but I don't think so despite the fact that we've all heard it a million times. The hit "Can't Stand Losing You" has a simple, catchy riff and clever tongue-in-cheek lyrics. There's also "King Of Pain,""Every Breath You Take," and "Wrapped Around Your Finger" which are all slow ballads with creepy lyrics. "Every Breath You Take" stayed on the charts for an amazing eight weeks. I usually don't review greatest hits packages, but I have my reasons...this one includes a remake of "Don't Stand So Close To Me" that marked the band's only reunion and got a ton of media attention at the time. I would recommend this to casual listeners of the Police, people who enjoy them but don't want to spend too much money on the records. If you're a big fan, you'll want the box set.

Anyway. Onto the songs. "New Age" is the perfect song for Tori to cover, although you have to be in the right mood for listening to it. Plus, I love the Velvet Underground. "'97 Bonnie and Clyde" is extremely creepy and gets even more so with each listen. I think that's what Tori intended to do. "Strange Little Girl" and "Enjoy The Silence" are just awful. I'm sorry for saying so - that is just my opinion. But they really do suck. Tori's cover of "I'm Not In Love" is better than the original, though that's not saying much. I do appreciate that she sings the words with no emotion. It fits the mood. But I also sort of have an issue with "Love" - if you listen carefully, you hear a very low e-flat from either the bass or bass drum (if it were tuned that way). It clashes horridly with the rest of the song, which is in d-major.

I love "Rattlesnakes" and it's definitely one of my favorites off this album. Slide guitar rules. I also like the KISS jacket that the girl is wearing. "Time" is beautifully done, and although I like Tom Waits, her voice is a lot prettier than his. It goes without saying. But this is such a great song with all the death imagery contrasting with the lovely melody, and it sounds a lot like Tori's own songs. "Heart Of Gold" is a far cry from the original version, and I know it offends old-school Neil Young fans. It's a very inventive cover although it sounds pretty mediocre to my ears.

I Don't Like Mondays but I do like Tori's version. It's pretty and sounds like a lullaby, almost, which makes it even more creepy. Odd how the song is supposed to be about a teenage girl who shoots down her school, but the keyboards suggest a playground for younger children. I guess that's fitting in a way. There is a sense of lost innocence about this song. The only thing I hate about it is that it's followed up by "Happiness Is A Warm Gun." I've never liked Beatles covers, but this one sucks. For one thing, I'm bummed she didn't keep the crazy meter changes under the "mother superior" lines, and also I feel like this song is way too long. And then theres "Raining Blood." Very creepy but gorgeous, and it's almost as good as the original version by Slayer. I love all the ethereal piano sounds and other effects. Her voice is beautiful too. It swoops effortlessly from opera high to guttural low and I always get goosebumps when she sings, "and now it's time to reign in blooood"... umm, anyway, "Real Men" is okay but I think it sounds too much like the original.

I know that the faithful went out in droves to buy this album. And I know some of them were disappointed. I can't blame them. It's hard not to be disappointed, especially considering what Tori has come out with before. I don't think SLG will attract any new fans, either, since it's rather inaccessible. I'm a huge fan, and I would probably only rate this about 6/10. It's definitely Tori's most ambitious project. She's treading on some very sacred ground here with some of the songs. That's why I would recommend this only to obsessed EWFs.

The lyrics on Sixteen Stone are horrific. I'd say Gavin is one of the worst ever when it comes to putting words to music. How about this line from the poetic Gavin: "Gotta fly to Los Angeles / Kill my a--hole brother" ("Everything Zen"). But in all honesty, it wouldn't be fair of me to crush this album. It isn't as bad as their later releases, and some of the stuff here is okay. There are some cool, if overly simplistic, riffs on "Everything Zen," "Machinehead," and "Little Things." "Glycerine" was overplayed on the radio, but it's a fun little song, so I like it. "Bomb" and the 45-second punk song "X-Girlfriend" are also interesting compositions.

The other tracks on here indicate how dull this band really is, and how ungifted each of the members are on their instruments. The few solos are boring, and they consist of about two notes repeated over and over, extensively using wa-wa in an attempt to make it sound decent. The drummer is buried in a sloppy overdriven mix until you can't hear him. Not that it matters, since I could probably play the drums better than him. This is a consistently mediocre release: no exceptional tracks from either side of the spectrum. If this is Bush's best, they'll probably be forgotten within a few years. Overall, Sixteen Stone may not be a bad purchase if you're a teenybopper. The CD insert does have some nice pictures of Gavin.

The basic plot follows Alex and his gang of sadistic young punks as they run amok, beating, raping, and murdering with gleeful abandon in the London of the near-future. They then retire to a bar to drink drug-enhanced milk and plot their next crime. Eventually, Alex gets caught and is subjected to the will of the State. He's forcibly deprogrammed with the "Ludovico Technique" in which he's strapped to a chair, his eyelids held open by metal clamps, and forced to watch a long movie of non-stop murder, rape, torture, and other horrible violence until he gets physically ill at the mere thought of such acts. Then he is thrown back on the streets, a declawed kitten at the mercy of his former victims. The American re-edition is published with the controversial twenty-first chapter not included in Kubrick's film, plus an introduction by the author called "A Clockwork Orange Resucked."

Unfortunately, it's a sad reflection on society in that Alex was shunned because of his violence, and when caught, had violence inflicted on him in order to make him stop. This extremely graphic novel received mixed reactions, either hailed as genius or dismissed as violent pornography. I would recommend the movie as well; it's visually inventive and a must-see from one of the world's greatest directors.