I am using this review to rant about my frustration and confusion about the current state of punk rock. The term punk rock is used very loosely these days. It is getting confusing determining what makes something "punk" anymore. I am not sure if this trio from Virginia is punk or not. Do songs that are fast, short, and based on 3-chords constitute punk rock? If so, then these boys are correct in describing their music as punk. I would just have to say that it is not "good" punk rock, or good music at that. First, it appears that they enjoy the so-called "punk" scene. Their webpage uses the same font that graces the cover of AFI records, they have links to plenty of bands in their same genre and they even call their drummer "Fat Mike." Fat Mike? These guys know who NOFX is (their webpage mentions them). Hopefully the nickname was just a coincidence and not a display of lack of originality. Let's move to the actual music. Simple, short songs about beer, girls, and life in general. The vocals are all off key (this doesn't sound intentional). What makes the vocals worse is that they attempt to "harmonize" throughout their songs. The combination of the voices gets very irritating and it appears that nobody in this band can sing in key. There is even a lame attempt at ska on the song, "Uprising" which is just painful to listen to. The Abe's give punk rock a bad name. What happened to the attitude and lifestyle that went along with punk rock? I think Mike Watt put it best. When describing "punk" he said, "It wasn't really a sound, it wasn't even a look, it was a state of mind." I think this is the problem with most punk rock these days. It is all based on the sound and the look and not on what really matters the most. (Neal Mayerle)

With a name like "Black Symphony" and song titles like "Death" and "Tears of
Blood" you may have some automatic preconceptions as to the sort of music
that Black Symphony plays. You wouldn't be remotely wrong. These guys are
quite certain of the sort of band they want to be, and dammit, chugging
guitars and melodramatic melodies are going to play an integral part. They
clearly dig it too, since they have an earnestness which (almost) seems to
soften the cheesier aspects of 80's derived metal. Despite the fact they've
obviously taken pains to be pretty sharp as a band, this is sufficiently
clichéd material that it's hard not to think it's all just earnest
role-playing. (Conrad Teves)

These boys rock quite well. Two piece rock bands are fairly uncommon, so
it's hard to know what to expect. The first song was a less than inspiring
acoustic ditty that didn't set the disk up very well, I groaned thinking
that I was in for some 28 odd minutes of tortured Indigo Boy hell, but once
the rocking started, Pat and Jon really surprised me, because they are a way
bigger two-piece than I've ever heard.

The sound is comfortably edgy, solid, indie-emo rock. Start with some Seam,
add a healthy dose of You'd Prefer and Astronaut-era Hum, mix in some
toned-down My Bloody Valentine, stir in some unknown low-fi indiehipster
band that insists that their music only be listened to on vinyl, and you get
The Brotherkite. All the trappings and nods of good indie rock. The kind
that I dig going to the 7th Street Entry to watch. I bet these guys crush
live, but I'm left wondering how they pull off the multi-layered sonic fury
in a live situation. I'm also left wondering if they are touring anytime
soon, because I would definitely go and see them. So if this is their first
demo, then keep up the good rocking. And maybe add some artwork/info on the
packaging. I like to look at pictures. (FosterW)

Caviar is a Houston based solo hip-hop artist with a somewhat unusual
background. According to his bio on mp3.com, Caviar has had a formal music
education and that "stage plays such as Cats, Guys & Dolls, and Joseph and
his Amazing Techni-Color Jacket groomed him for the stage." Presumably
"Joseph and his Amazing Techni-Color Jacket" is the springtime production
where a Technicolor Dream Coat would be too warm for the weather. In the
summer, they do "Joseph and his Amazing Technicolor T-Shirt." Okay,
smart-ass comments about a silly typo aside, I should point out that, to his
credit, Caviar's brand of hip-hop sounds really good. He clearly knows what
he's doing. Good production, sharp rhyming skills and engaging music make
for a nice all-around package. If you like hip-hop, this should work pretty
well for you; if not, this probably won't change your mind. His lyrics,
while skillful, aren't saying anything particularly new, and recycle some of
the more distasteful elements rap is known (or notorious) for. (Conrad Teves)

OK -- it might take a couple of listens to accept the sitar, tabla, and other Indian instruments weaving through most of these tunes as legit and not just some sort of grafted on pseudo-psychedelic gimmick. But after a few spins, you realize that these are integral elements of some good, tight (and funky) pop songs delivered flawlessly; these aren't some extended Ravi Shankar-type workouts. Excellent sound, songs and performances -- finally, SOMETHING FRESH!! Inspirational lyric: "I like a girl with a history, 'cos nothing's dirtier than purity." (SCIsadore)

Let me introduce you to my honey theory. Crash Four's newest release "Two Steps in a Harmony" oozes like a honey-dipped index finger that I bid my woman to lick clean. The acoustic folk-rock flows over my flesh digit -- golden, warm, sweet, rich and slow. However, like honey, Crash Four's acoustic waves taste amazingly good at first but then start to get sticky and suddenly you realize the only thing you want to do is wash your hands and get the goo off. In essence, Crash Four epitomizes this honey theory dichotomy. On one side you hear sweet violin, smooth acoustic guitar, theory-based bass playing and rich drum rhythms combating the spunk of awful lyrics and somewhat boring songwriting. I need to clarify that boring isn't necessarily bad...it's just uninspired. The introductory measures of each song are intriguing, hooky and original; it's just that once into the song I found myself losing interest. With some lyrical improvements, Crash Four could be a future contender. But who am I? They're already earning the title of "sweet darlings" in Boise through their positive local press reviews, battle of the band awards, and sold out shows. Straight up -- the songs are well played, produced, and executed...it's just that they failed to capture me. Across the board I found the lyrics to be sub-par, i.e. "Reason's" chorus cries, "Fly Away!!" The purposeful dissonance in the harmony is hip but...fly away? One-out-of-three angst filled teen wanna-be Rob Thomas's have that same lyric in their songs about the girl who won't look at them in English class. I guess my biggest concern with this
heartland trio (once foursome and fivesome) is that I heard their debut album and I think they may have lost their edge a bit with the departure of female vocalist Becca Gourley. If you listen to their earlier work, Crash Four employs Becca's vocal to swing around the male leads adding a trickery and variety to the arrangements that catches you off guard. However, this edge is missing with the "Two Steps in a Harmony" release, save for the title track. The male lead vocals (switched off and on by Jake Ransom (bass) and Kelly Martin (guitar)) are talented in tone and pitch but the solo performances don't carry you through the entire song like the old duets used too. Bring Becca back! However, my favorite aspect of the band, and possibly the key reason to check Crash Four out, is the performance of teen drumming icon, Harley Wright. The kid was 17 when the band added him to their roster and let's just say he's got the skills to pay the bills. Consistently throughout the album, Wright's drumming arrangements and style create a unique, varied, and layered sonic atmosphere. Talented sucker. So back to the dichotomy of my honey theory -- "Two Steps in a Harmony" is an album dipped in radio-friendly-Dave-Matthew's-Band-flavored-shitty-lyrics-high-quality-production-drumtasticly-delicious-somewhat-boring-rootsy-sounding-death-squad-of-heartland-youth-acoustic honey. If you're like me, you may pull your hand out of the sticky honey pot in disgust after several moments but you'll dip it back in again for a fresh listen soon because you know it tastes so sweet at first. (Eric Thiegs)

Very interesting. Imagine a nearly nasal New Orderish vocal line (but in a
good way) going over some very well done acoustic guitar playing. Add in
some fuzzed-out and yet restrained wah-wahed guitar and some simple yet
effective rhythm playing. Blend well with some solid song writing. The
result is a combination that works. I like it. File it under easy listening.
Maybe throw it in the cd changer towards the end of a neighborhood barbeque
party. I've listened to it a couple times now and I'd say that it's starting
to grow on me. However, I've noticed that the vocals are always pretty
heavily processed with effects and placed down in the mix. Bring them right
out in the open. Back off the reverb and the chorus a bit, because the songs
are interesting. There's no reason to hide the vocals that I can hear. I
like the last song the best. It reminds me of the ocean in a gentle lilting
rock way.

Good work. I have a feeling that this guy has some more stuff kicking around
and it's probably really good. So I'll give this one a rock solid B+. (There
is no grade inflation in the hallowed halls of Demorama.) (FosterW)

Suzanne Vega in need of anti-depressants. Yes, that is a horrible over-simplification, and doesn't do Cynthia Mason justice AT ALL, but I say that to get people moving in the right direction to get a tiny grasp of what's going on here as far as sound. Ms. Mason is not in need of anti-depressants, however. The music is moody and minimally gorgeous, and her lyrics are exploratory and intelligent -- not a hint of a "woe-is-me" in the songs. I wish I still had relatives to shack up with in Philadelphia, because I would love to see this lady and her band perform. She earns my top honor: insertion into my permanent CD collection. (Mike Mitchelson)

10 years is plenty of time for a formerly underground genre to become
commercialized. Trance/goa music is bigger than it has ever been, and its
influence has also opened up awareness of dance music around our planet.
This nine-track compilation showcases a few of the many different styles
of modern club and trancey-dance music from all over the world (Africa
still appears to be unrepresented), though all appear to have a foundation
in Westernized 4/4 techno.

Appropriately enough from this Australian label, the first track
by Mystic Rhythms, "Earth Dance Dreamtime," uses the didgeridoo abundantly
and effectively. As any trance fan knows, this is one of the essential
instruments to achieve that necessary "transglobal underground" feel.
For good measure, a sitar is gratuitously thrown in as well. I'm not
sure what the sitar has to do with aboriginal Dreamtime, but hey, this is
global dance music! No boundaries! But if you're not careful (or have a
malicious multi-national corporate mind), with "no boundaries" comes
"homogenization." Pleasure Zone's and Chillum's contributions are
straight-up house/club dance tracks, and straight-up indistinguishable --
good bass, but nothing special about each, either. Some other non-trance
tracks are present here as well, such as Karunesh's "Native Rituals,"
which I'd swear was an example of contemporary electronic Native American
music, but is in fact composed by a new age artist from the other side of
the globe. Gypsy Moon's "Luna Piena," with its laid-back flamenco-styled
Spanish guitar and Incan pipe-flutes, is a pleasant enough listening
experience, but severely contrasts with the fast-tempo'd flow of the rest
of the album. Sin Palabras' "Timbasa," also a Latin-based piece, doesn't
work so well. I don't think brass and Cuban percussion sounds fit in
trance format. Nice try, though.

Overall, the album works best when the tracks get room to breathe
and expand (ie Mystic Rhythm's and Don Peyote's tracks), and when cheesy
bits don't seep in. (Kamal.s "Shakuhaji Tales" is good until it's spoiled
by a cheesy spoken interlude. Cheese -- bane of serious music, facilitator
of worldwide sales!) Dance Planet is very wobbly as a cohesive
compilation, but has a few individual decent tracks. (Dusty Backlund)

Ok, I had too much fun with these guys' website, which I'd say is worth a peek even if the music isn't your style. Any band that uses head shots of Jesse Jackson and Janet Reno to proclaim rapturous love for Brian Pelfrey, David Sparks (a.k.a. Drexel Dave), and the drummer -- whomever the new guy will be -- has favorable marks in my book. As for sound, Drexel is a bit like Tenacious D in style, with their straightforward yet twisted songs about sex and other "reality situations." The three main MP3s on the site are live recordings from Canal Street Tavern in their hometown of Dayton, OH. On them, you get to experience not only the music and banter of Drexel, but the outbursts from happy drunks. With a piano as the main instrument, Drexel is a lot like a lounge act -- maybe after the player knows that no matter how loose he belts out the songs, he won't be fired. Dave has a full voice that goes high and low, which he will deliberately crack, and he definitely plays the ivories with all his fingers. This band does not take itself seriously, but luckily, that isn't a cover for having no talent. (Vanessa Moore)

The sample CD submitted by Electro Earth of its song "Don't Stop Moving" is doomed to be buried in the middle of a party-mix CD that will wind up in someone's older sister's music collection and never played. And, like me, Sis will have picked it up because the ketchup red and mustard yellow packaging caught her eye and the thought of hearing vocals by a guy named Guido was intriguing. Unfortunately, when I listen to the mixes -- even with the heavy-on-the-sex-voiced rapper telling me to "don't stop moving," "'cause music is your fix," I can't do it. If I were dancing at a party and this song's formulaic electronic synth, circa 1987, came on the speakers, I would make a valiant attempt to keep up with my fellow dancers, but then my mind would start to wander and I'd look down to see my feet were no longer moving. I'd have to leave the floor, and I wouldn't be the only one. Upon seeing this reaction, the DJ would hit "skip" and that would be the end of it. If you go to their page on MP3.com, you can hear more songs from their full-length album, "Volume I" that have a bit more promise, but only because Albert sounds like Jimmy Pop from the Bloodhound Gang. (Vanessa Moore)

Not being a fan of electronica I am ill equipped to give this a fair review. However, I did enjoy listening to this disc. If the point of electronica is to find a hook and glaze over it with various beats and samples for ten minutes, then EM accomplished it well. While it oftentimes felt monotonous, I was kind of hypnotized by the sonic redundancy. Nice use of some unconventional instrumentation as well. I didn't expect to hear sitar and acoustic guitar on an electronica disc. These elements gave some depth to the otherwise repetitive techno-babble. Many of the songs went on for longer than I would have liked them to, but I guess that's electronica for ya. In closing, I bet these tunes could sell a lot of Nissans on TV
commercials. (Archie Rex)

An Interesting submission -- the best of an experimental music ensemble
from Lithuania -- active in the late eighties and through the nineties,
they were part of an experimental artistic scene that complimented the
opening freedoms as the soviet world collapsed. Their leader is Ramunas
Yaras, a composer and artist. I liked the first cut a lot -- an ambient
piece worthy of Eno, played entirely with wheezing acoustic instruments
-- no synthesizers. The rest of the disk is hit or miss, but cool. Some
other links and info on this group: mp3.com/endiche,
geocities.com/ramunasyaras. (Norm Deplume)

I've never quite been able to figure out the guys who lock themselves in the basement with a shitload of drumulatorkeyboardsymphonyinabox stuff. Isn't a large part of making music making it with other people? (Well, except for Moby, of course!) Then again, I don't know if anyone short of Miles, Moon, Coltrane, and Lennon could save this wordy, overblown, overwrought collection of syntho-symphonic folk-rock. Yes, there are some guitats on here, but the rest comes right out of the wall socket. Pure dreck! (SCIsadore)

Gary Yamane's mastery of the flute in all its forms is apparent starting with the very first track of Voices in the Wind. The compositions selected to make up the play list cover such a disparate range of styles, however, the albums works better as a demo to a record company rather than a retail CD. The lone reedy cedar flute in the opening selection, "Morning," prepares you for what you think will be a sacred ceremony of Yamane's well-paced exploration of the instrument's natural range. There is a bit of echo effect revealed at the end of a couple bars, but it doesn't sound out of place. Throughout the next several songs, the album follows traditional couplings of the flute with drums and other flutes as well as new-age synthesized chimes and sirens. And that's actually ok, because this music would be good accompaniment for yoga. Then midway through the 12-track disk, Yamane starts exploring other genres. The promo letter states the album is "progressively meditative, inspirational and funky." Funky means track 7, "Blue Silk." Uh oh, here comes the deep bass and hiss-ching of a jazz arrangement. Yamane is still in control of the flute, and he flutters the sound like a throaty singer, but it breaks the mood. It should have gone at the end of the disk, with the musical adventure "Mr. Tubbs Takes a Stroll," because I could no longer take him seriously. Even "Lament" -- a song composed with Sept. 11 in mind -- became too blatant with its chorus of wolf cries fading without ending.
(Vanessa Moore)

Outside of the zany antics of those lovable Anticon nerds and the modern-day
hip-hop answer to Stiff Records that is Def Jux, I'm not that familiar with
the dynamics of independent and unsigned hip-hop artists nowadays (do a lot
of them still sell tapes out of their car trunk like Too Short?). As far as
Head-Roc goes, he seems to be doing all right for himself, especially since
he's been getting all kinds of love in his hometown. Said hometown is
Washington D.C., a city about equidistant between New York and the Dirty
South (well, the Carolinas at least), and it's no surprise that the Head-Roc
style is also at that halfway point. "Exquisite" mixes up psychedelic
jazz-style guitar and flute loops with skittering rhythms; "Honeys" throbs
with sick Moog beats halfway between Kraftwerk and the Dungeon Family's
robo-funk; "Young Jefferson" teases with an almost DJ Premier-style fanfare
of muddy-sounding downtempo jazz before the tempo kicks into total crunk
overdrive. As far as the rhymes go: Head-Roc has been at the lyrical game
for around a decade, and he's gotten tons of acclaim for his skills in a
city that's more used to "go-go" style than straight-up hip-hop. The former'
s obvious, the latter's deserved; while it's damn near impossible to touch
Outkast, it wouldn't be all that preposterous to lay down a comparison
between him and Dre 2000, and I bet Head-Roc could probably take at least
half of Nappy Roots in a battle. We get hip-hop demos here at about the same
frequency we get tapes from bands specializing in Himalayan lounge-punk, but
when we do get hip-hop, it's all good. Top Honors. (Nate Patrin)

I was actually supposed to review this "Healing Sounds" CD for last month's installment of Demorama, but I declined and brought it back to our editor (and the Twin Cities' top-rated dominatrix), Deneen. "I might not be the right person for this kind of music," I said. "I went on a bit of a rant."

And Deneen said (paraphrased here): "Rant away."

But I've had some time to reflect a bit over the past month, enough to react a little more positively and say that if you are someone who owns some crystals, enjoys yoga and soy milk lattes at Starbucks, and if your CD collection includes guitar and piano compositions laced with birds chirping, humpback whales crooning, and the sound of water running over rocks, whooo-boy, are you gonna love this. And, if you don't necessarily need to "healed," Music Mosaic has other CD's in their catalogue. Let's say you need a little peace in your life, what with all this terrorist activity of late. Music Mosaic offers a CD to get you there, called, originally, "Inner Peace." But first, to get you on your way to inner peace, some sort of meditative trance must be attained and -- well, lo and behold! Music Mosaic has you covered there, too, with "Didgeridoo Trance." Do the trance to get to inner peace, throw in some healing on top of that and, gee-whiz, you just might feel like doing a little dancing when all your troubles have been lifted away. How does "Lotus Groove" sound to you? Music Mosaic has all bases covered.

I can't say this music sucks ass, because it doesn't. It's very professionally recorded music with harps and a few animal noises that, even with the addition of a few exotic instruments, manages to remain uninspired. There is one song I found kinda cool, a klezmer-sounding clarinet number by a guy named Linsey Pollack.

Perhaps my problem is that I've never been able to understand how one gets their head in such a state as to actually feel the need to purchase a CD titled "Healing Sounds." I liken the frame of mind similar to that of the poor schlep who purchases a compilation CD offered on late-night television with the title "Lovers Rock," thinking they're actually gonna score big with the babes when they stick that thing in the player and that wretched Sheriff song starts pouring out of the speakers.

But what do I know about any of this. I found out a college friend of mine owns not one, but TWO Yanni CDs, and has some Humpback whale sounds floating around, too. Maybe it's me that's out of touch. Perhaps I need balance in my life, some inner peace. (Mike Mitchelson)

Janis Duque's CD demo is passionate, unforgettable and
simple to a fault. She is a solo artist who reaches down
low, hitting a new human bottom of rancid well water and
radon gas. Janis is filled with piss and vinegar and
thrusts out powerful bad emotion in an incredibly sexy and
heartfelt way. The layering of effected voice tracks will
massage the poison from your pores and leave the taste of
pain in your mouth. The memorable choruses make you want to
skip through a lawn of freshly cut grass like a naked
teenager. And all this is good, but......

There is a lame side to the enticing world of pain and loss
that Duque builds for us. She is unoriginal, far too
reminiscent of Ruby and Garbage. And she is prepubescent in
her simplicity: little more than gothic rock in fetal form,
what you might imagine Siouxsie and the Banshees to be like
in high school. A sufficient amount of dumbing-down is
recommended for the proper enjoyment of this nightmarish
recording.

To recap, this CD lacks some eloquence that may come with
experience. But the magical combination of track layering,
effect tinkering and horrible emotion makes it better than
most and succeeds in getting the listener to wretch with
horny depression. (Jacob Caravan)

A boy and his guitar, and sometimes his backing band, and a bunch of
coffeeshop gigs. Talented musicians and all, I found it a chore to listen to
The Honorary Title. I think that it was the tedious songwriting and the
vocals. Vocals are always tough for a singer/songwriter. For Jarrod it seems
to be something along the lines of not being able to break free from some
other singer/songwritery vocal stylings that seem to stick out in the market.
There is this male vocal style that seems to have crept up in American pop
music in the last few years. It's like a back of the throat vocal production
that is almost baritone but not quite. It is just like the Matchbox 20, Goo
Goo Dolls, assorted Adult-Contemporary radio smush bands and artists. It
lacks credibility and honesty. That's just what they "sound" like. The songs
would or would not have their own message. And I suppose that sounding like
some of the other AOR bands wouldn't be so bad if he were able to get Carlos
Santana to come down and play with him, but instead, he takes this less than
unique vocal styling, and matches it up with frantic Ani Difranco strumming
and ax-murder phrasing, rife with epithets to disgraced relationships and
loaded with unnecessary curse words. Don't take me wrong, I'm no prude. I
like to curse probably more than anyone I know. But when it fucking feels
like every other phrase is fucking this and fucking that and fucking
fucking, and fuck fuck fuck. It gets to be a little much.

So it's a Matchbox 20 Ani Difranco sinridden lovechild (Que the shuddering
sound that Montgomery Burns makes when he's disgusted.) Jarrod's guitar
playing and the quality musicianship of his backing band cannot be denied.
He is a talented player. It's too bad that the music was tedious and the
obnoxious cursing pushed it right over the edge.

And I have to say that it was disappointing too, because the cover artwork
was so freaking cool. Jarrod, please give Paul serious props. I love seeing
when genuine effort was put into the cover design of an album and not just
some 8th grade level Photoshop mockup. The design was obviously professional
quality and intelligent. The Sunday Schoolbook illustrations of the little
kids doing the Krishna/Hindu statue hand gestures, or illustrations of
children with enormous arms pointing to the sky worked very well. What a
fascinating combination of images. Images that you could look at and think
about, which is far above and beyond most of the cover-art we get. So the
rundown, A on the cover art, C+ on the music. (FosterW)

This sounds unpolished, but it also sounds different. It sounds different in
a good way, too. Killie McGee has a quirky pop-sensibility wrapped in a warm
power-guitar blanket. The lead singer's voice isn't exactly the richest
sounding in the universe, and is in fact a bit thin, but his high delivery
contrasts nicely with the guitar work. If the guitars didn't sound like they
were recorded in a garbage can, and if the songs were buffed a little more
here and there, this could be really cool. As it is, I think it has a lot of
potential. I like the song structures, I like the mood and I like the
energy. Definitely worth a listen. (Conrad Teves)

Like Matchbox 20? Like Train? If you do, then you will (depending on your gender) sport major wood or rock-hard nipples for these guys. I'm not trying to sound insulting, either. They are a very good pop band that tries awfully hard to sound "alternative." I guess I am sounding insulting. Me? I like my pop-rock to have some genuine attitude, something Lloyd Cole produced plenty of merely by waking up, and, for something more recent, what Third Eye Blind very nearly accomplished on their first CD. (Mike Mitchelson)

I had hoped that the CD cover's eerie stick figure art and
the strange album title, "The Fragile Ones," would lead to a
megalomaniacal musical rant against the weaker links in
society. No such luck. Mark Akers is society's victim, not
its perpetrator. You will find no barbarism or conquest
coming from this empathetic fellow, just a whole lot of
"healing," "inner peace," "soul searching and reflection"
(to quote the liner notes). He even goes so far as to thank
the "'Big Guy' upstairs" and enclose a detailed dedication
to the downtrodden. How pathetic. Maybe I need sensitivity
training, or maybe Mark Akers is just too squished and
damaged by his past for modern life.

The first track, "The Breach," seems to act as an
introduction to the other songs, and is the best part of the
entire CD. It takes you to a place similar to one "Pink
Floyd's The Wall" might take you: giving you a hopeless
feeling, as if left vulnerable in the care of someone you
don't trust or lying in a emergency room hospital bed for
hours wondering if they forgot about you. All the other
songs sound like Pearl Jam unplugged and aren't worth going
through one at a time. Lets just say that Mark Akers is
your garden-variety coffee shop acoustic hippy.

But I will give props for the instrumentation. The quality
of the recording and the musical ability exhibited are
incredible. So all it's not a total loss. (Jacob Caravan)

Wow. And I mean wow. It's obvious from the first song that Norine Braun has some skill as a vocalist. What's really interesting, however, is how bad she can -- and does -- perform in several songs. I would have to rate the tenth track, "Carefully Watch the News," among the most excruciating and hilarious vocal performances I have ever heard in my 47 years at Demorama. As I said, she could be an above-average singer, but she REALLY needs to learn her limitations. The music is only slightly less annoying, the standard proclamation of edgy "rock and blues," which is as unspectacular as it sounds. Hey! I've got a term for this cantankerous fusion: CRAP. (Mike Mitchelson)

College student Dan Freborg does all the instrumentation,
vocals and recording on the very homemade Orion's Belt. And
he does none of it well. Orion's Belt is a sloppy
conglomeration of every modern whining, complaint rock band
who wishes they grew up in the 60's. This album definitely
did not need to be made. Everything about it is half assed,
including, but not limited to: vocals, bass, guitar,
songwriting, cover art, mix-down, etc., ad infinitum. And
since Mr. Freborg is responsible for the entire package, he
has no one to blame but himself. The only thing worth
saving from the circular file is the drum work, which is too
quiet in the mix. How can I say this with tact: Orion's
Belt is amateur garbage and it pains me to listen to Mr.
Freborg cry about some personal problem that would even try
the patience of a close friend. Keep working on that
degree. (Jacob Caravan)

Ah yes. . .relationships. . .people screwing each other over. . .unrequited love. . .Where would popular music be without these universal themes? Osgoods tell these tales accompanied by buoyant, bouncy pop tunes that bring close comparisons to Barenaked Ladies. And therein lies the rub. This could be the BNL farm team, the JV, the evil twin. The sound, songs and performances are very good, it's just that, dudes, one Barenaked Ladies is more that enough. They haven't passed any cloning laws that that I've missed have they? (SCIsadore)

This submission is unusual for Demorama -- It's the music for a stage
production for young people, and one with impressive credentials. It
was sent in by composer and lyricist Daniel Freedman. You've seen the
"Wizard of Oz" -- that movie was adapted from the stories of L. Frank
Baum, who wrote children's stories (though a fair amount of topical
political satire was hidden in them.) A man named W.W. Denslow
illustrated those books -- you might have seen the work; he was an
illustrator of the type that probably influenced the young Walt Disney --
an eccentric, he bought an island in Bermuda in 1902 and declared it a
sovereign country. In 1904 Denslow and Paul West wrote a play called
"The Pearl and The Pumpkin," with music composed in the style of Gilbert
and Sullivan.

Freedman's production updates the original with new songs and
characters, including some lyrics originally written by Baum. The story
is fantastical, centering around the life of Joe Miller; Pearl Pringle,
Joe's prize pumpkin; and the goings on in Littletown. When the
ancient mariner shows up, an adventure is started. I am no judge of
musical theater, but this seems very well done and has an intriguing
history. (Norm Deplume)

2 song demo -- a couple of fine songs in the vein of the romantics "What I Like About You," or nuggets type sixties garage proto punk. Whether you like your original mid-sixties stuff, your late seventies punk homage stuff, or newer throwbacks, this kind of music never loses its freshness, and these three guys do it right. High Honors. (Norm Deplume)

I arrived very late to this month's Demorama writer's meeting, and as a result I unfortunately got to pick from the bottom of the demo trough. That being said, I can continue with this...this...dear God, what is this? IT'S CRAP. DUNG. EXCREMENT. SHIT. POOP. CACA. MERDE. I spent over an hour listening to P. Skunk's 31-track submission. The way I see it, P. Skunk owes me an hour of hard labor, 'cause that what I gave him. Skunk-boy needs to come over to my house while I play HIM one hour of horrid music of my choosing. In addition, he can clean my bathroom while he listens. I'll hire a dominatrix to stand over him and make sure he cleans with his tongue like the dog he is.
Yes, this disc made me ANGRY. I'm angry I took this disc to review. I'm angry with P. Skunk's parents for buying him a guitar. I'm angry at the studio that let him record this. I'm angry at the stupid nicknames he chose to label his guest musicians. (Mr. Cheese Nation, Skeeter Phobian and Thunderjeep among others make appearances.) But mostly, I'm angry that I lost an hour of my precious life listening to this drivel. GIMME MY HOUR BACK, P. SKUNK! I struggle to describe this crap. This sounds like some kind of white-boy-funk-funny-pop-folk-RnB hybrid. There is no continuity whatsoever as I'm assaulted with insipid live tracks obviously recorded at a
house party, supposed-to-be-funny musings on dumb-ass topics like "The Three Prime Directives of the Universe", and acoustic
"Gee-I-wish-I-was-cool-like-Beck" funk ballads. Mr. Willy must have an ego the size of Texas to put out a disc this long and this bad. Ugh! I wanted to cram this whole disc up my ass just so I could SHIT IT OUT. I can write no more! This disc must DIE! (As I write this, I am stomping it under my ANGRY Foot of Justice!) Die, disc, DIE! BEWARE THE P. SKUNK, MUSIC FANS!
BEWARE! IT COMES FOR YOU, AND IT STINKS! I will never again be late for Demorama meetings. (Archie Rex)

20 electronic noise punk tracts. Well produced, not much else to say. Just
about every song starts with a sample and then breaks into a similar hyper
beat, interspersed with a guitar sample or two. In the middle they put a
slower haunting track. If you are a member of a Japanese biker gang in an
anime flick, this is for you. NoCore's "eeeville" and Hyperdriver's
"Violence is Golden" stood out a bit. As for "punk," the titles were
appropriately snarky but if you changed them you'd never think "Oh cool,
this isn't plain old electronic speedcore... this is punk electronic
speedcore!" If "digi-punk trash/hardcore noize breaks gabber electronic
tracks" appeals to you, check it out. (Tom "The Godfather" Pluck)

NOTE: Due to the high volume of soundalike emo CDs we have been receiving at Demorama Corporate HQ, we have found it necessary to institute a quick, easy-to-fill-out form for our reviewers to use when confronted with any of these particular demos. We thank you for your patience. [BAND NAME] specializes in the highly-charged, often grating genre known as "emo", and as such are prone to their own specific faults. Like two of the bands they list as influences -- [WELL-KNOWN EMO BAND] and Sunny Day Real Estate -- their songs are better suited for sitting around and moping than anything else such as dancing, nodding one's head in time or doing anything most people usually do when listening to music. The main problem with [NAME OF DEMO] is the fact that the songs seem to run into each other, [VOCALIST]' is somewhat whiny Billie Joe Armstrong-with-a-hangnail voice sounding the same whether it's bleating [INANE LYRIC] in [NAME OF SONG THIS LYRIC APPEARS IN] or [ANOTHER, DIFFERENT INANE LYRIC] in [NAME OF SONG THIS DIFFERENT LYRIC APPEARS IN]. [GUITARIST]'s guitar playing sounds dirge-like no matter what tempo the song's in, and [PICK ONE: DESPITE/BECAUSE OF] the demo's [NUMBER OF SONGS]-track length, it becomes a serious chore to sit through such competent yet uninspired [EUPHEMISM FOR BODILY WASTE] that one is sorely tempted to [SOMETHING UNPLEASANT] one's ears in order to prevent hearing any more. I feel stupid for picking out this demo solely on the basis of [COOL THING ABOUT CD PACKAGING]; I guess I've learned my lesson on [CLICHE ABOUT MAKING ASSUMPTIONS BASED ON APPEARANCES]. On the bright side, I figure I could get [DOLLAR AMOUNT] selling this at Cheapo, if I'm lucky.
[BAND NAME: Seconds Before]
[WELL-KNOWN EMO BAND: Jimmy Eat World]
[NAME OF DEMO: Just Drive]
[VOCALIST: Michael Grey]
[INANE LYRIC: "You know I'm coming home/coming back to you alone"]
[NAME OF SONG THIS LYRIC APPEARS IN: "Fight vs. Flight"]
[ANOTHER, DIFFERENT INANE LYRIC: "I am waiting for you/open arms and
conversation/I'm here waiting for you/overwhelming desperation"]
[NAME OF SONG THIS DIFFERENT LYRIC APPEARS IN: "Chapters"]
[GUITARIST: Chris Dales and Carl Skildum]
[PICK ONE: DESPITE/BECAUSE OF: despite]
[NUMBER OF SONGS: three]
[EUPHEMISM FOR BODILY WASTE: ca-ca]
[SOMETHING UNPLEASANT: pour Drano in]
[COOL THING ABOUT CD PACKAGING: the picture of the late '60s Buick Riviera
on the back cover]
[CLICHE ABOUT MAKING ASSUMPTIONS BASED ON APPEARANCES: tasting the mayonnaise without checking the expiration date]
[DOLLAR AMOUNT: fifty cents]
(Nate Patrin)

Good production cannot make-up for lack of imagination, and
there is a severe deficiency in this jazz-oriented
self-titled CD by Sherelle Cary Smith. Although there is a
strong sense of purpose behind the three originals in this
five-song demo, and an inspiring message, at least to track
#1 ("Do What You Love "), the vocalist lacks passion and
movement to her craft.

The effort she has expended into her voice is
all-too-obvious; she is manipulating her voice to give it a
certain stereotypic smoothness to the detriment of
spontaneity and emotion. Too much separation in quality
between the vocal registers gives away her lack of training
and her alto is so deep and guttural as to be distracting.

There is something of interest to the songwriting and
although it could never be described as groundbreaking, it
is such a clear improvement over the two cover tunes that
one wonders why they are included. One should aspire to
"add something new" when covering an artist's work -- a sense
that there is more to be said with an original than was
first envisioned by it's author. Unfortunately Smith does
not have anything to say with her two covers, but seems to
be merely using them to exhibit her own voice, and the
effect is quite labored.

The third track is a lethargic and plodding cover of Eleanor
Rigby, totally lacking in the irony and bittersweet sadness
that made the Beatles' classic so beloved. One could almost
call the slick jazzy repackaging of this tune tasteless, for
it has no trace of compassion for it's hapless characters.
The repetitive riffing at the end does little more but to
expose her lack of vocal flexibility, and seems somehow
self-involved, oblivious to the content of the song itself.

Track four is an even more lethargic cover of "Our Day Will
Come." It is difficult to believe one could remove the
optimism and joy from a song with such a hopeful title but
it can indeed be done.

At the fifth and final track we thankfully leave the cover
tunes for a revitalized original called "Walk On By," and
finally some life returns to the CD. Although the listener
is still subjected to a somewhat overly manipulated vocal
style, the song does hold one's interest.

Overall there is a stereotypic easy-listening feel to this
CD, and a staleness that might be overcome with the help of
additional musicians to aid the obviously talented J.
Pecklinsky, who plays all of the instruments here. I would
recommend to Sherelle Cary Smith that she follow her own
advice on track #1 and focus on what she has to give that is
original. The jazz world is overrun with artists who would
attempt to fill shoes that have already been filled by
someone else. If what you love is already being done better
elsewhere, let someone else do it. (Serena Vale)

California's T. Hallenbeck is an odd-duck. Displaced brother of Minneapolis scene stalwart Mike Merz, Hallenbeck offers up a heapin' helpin' of what he calls "magical-realist acousticore." After listening to this folk-y disc a few times times, I'm not sure what to make of it. It kind of reminds me of Court and Spark-era Joni Mitchell. Lots of hippie energy and cool jazzy progressions. Musically speaking, it's intricate, catchy, and well produced. T. wows us by playing every instrument on the disc including cello, bass, mandolin, mandola, and guitar. The lyrics are, well...really weird. Most of Mr. T's songs touch on neo-spiritual topics relating to a new sect of faith I'm going to call Hallenbeckism. He preaches to his Secret Society on songs like "Hymn to the Mothman," in which he pontificates, " I have seen your armor and your insect toes. Let me walk in light, let me live in faith, love, and kindness. Holy, holy, holy, hosanna in the highest." "Antigravity" then takes a running leap off the reality cliff: "And I'm stuck like glue to higher order dimensions, nanomachines, time-travel, superconductivity and tachyons and antigravity gizmos." He
goes on to talk about frog pee in the chorus. No, really! Frog pee! T. must spend a lot of time watching Doctor Who reruns, reading Carl Sagan, and rockin' the ganj. I don't know if I'm quite ready for High Priest Hallenbeck's new faith or his lyrics. But his music is pretty groovy, and I
can't get the melody to "Antigravity" outta my head. I'm horribly torn between head-bobbin' along and freaking out over new age hoo-ha. (Archie Rex)

Some thinnish gruel here -- two versions of a routine synth beat dance number with not much going on. It doesn't sound terrible, just sort of tired. Bryn James is the contact, they are based in Leeds, UK. (Norm Deplume)

Hailing from England, Twisterbait has a pretty tough name for a band that is very calm and somewhat reserved. They play pretty safe pop/alternative/rock music. One thing that I think is pretty cool is that they list their influences (The Police, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Cure, Pink Floyd) and sound nothing like any of those bands. Too many groups try to sound exactly like their influences. This tactic should be reserved for tribute bands only. If anything, I hear a hint of Depeche Mode in their sound. Twisterbait's music is very professional and the sound is very polished. Their line up says they are a trio with the standard guitar, bass, and drum setup. Considering how full their sound is, I swear I hear keyboards and electronic drums in their music as well (that's where the Depeche Mode comparison came from). Beyond their sound, there was nothing that really stood out in their music that made it impressive or memorable at all. Average at best. (Neal Mayerle)

As much as I rag on emo on this website, at least I have to acknowledge the fact that it's a grassroots music movement that started with good intentions and took a long time to get a cult following. That said, it's well on its way to being the Next Big Thang (as read about in Time magazine! Check out the hunky lads of Dashboard Confessional! They're not afraid to cry, ladies!), and when the huge blowup happens I'm sure there will be a place on regular Clear Channel rotation for a band like Ultrapull. Everything about this band screams "watered down emo," from their cleaned-up and safe-sounding guitar work to their a-cliche-in-every-line lyrics to their MTV-ready pretty-boy good looks (not a pair of hornrims or an ugly "vintage" shirt among 'em!). And I never thought I'd say this, but I would actually prefer the stereotypical and much-loathed-by-me emo whine over Dale Everett's noncommittal shrug of a singing voice, which sounds about as honest and powerful as that the guy who sings the theme from "Friends." I listened to this a couple times and remembered absolutely nothing about it afterwards, which is bad -- at least regular emo has enough noise and energy to irritate me; this just puts me to sleep. Maybe the "p" in the band's name needs to be rotated 180 degrees. (Nate Patrin)

Z-Plan is easy going pop music, but is hard to label more
specifically because the range of sounds and movements on
their CD is so varied as to leave you wondering whether you
are rising to the great hall of fallen martyrs while being
serviced by 40 virgins, or waiting in line at a third rate
strip club for a $15 lap-dance.

An enormous gang of musicians and vocalists went to work
creating "A Change From Within," a refreshingly well planned
out and generally good album. The title track is
reminiscent of something off "Pipers at the Gates of Dawn"
and their last song, "Loose Lips," (my favorite) sounds like
a big band, pro war, 40's tune with brass section and
dancing USO girls. How's that for non-genre specific?

Everything on "A Change From Within" is top quality from the
mix to the j-card. Pete Hodson's singing is good enough to
keep up with the broad musical range executed without flaw
or fathomable complaint from the listener. And best of all,
Z-Plan is original enough without getting too weird or
"artistic." (Jacob Caravan)