I'm one of those people that believes that Decahedron is (was?) basically the continuation of Frodus in everything but name. It's still Shelby Cinca and Jason Hamacher with (insert bassist here) kicking out frenetic post-punk-hardcore-politicized-art-rock like men possessed. 2005 was basically released to fill the gaps between Decahedron's first and second full-lengths, but as things appear now, the disc may end up being the final release from the band, as they went on "indefinite hitaus" last year.

The new material on the disc will appease fans of the band to some degree -- the first three tracks ("Movement A", "Terrhetoric", and personal favorite "We Are The Virus") deliver the abrasive D.C. Dischord-type rock in spades. Then Decahedron decide to cover Cop Shoot Cop ("Cause & Effect") and Bauhaus ("Scopes"), and things get off track just a little. "Cause & Effect" isn't really that interesting, and "Scopes" is pretty cool on the first listen or two, but the novelty wears off rather quickly. I would think that fans of Decahedron would much rather have a couple of other "lost tracks" on there instead, especially with the band being in limbo at the moment.

The caveat to the slight let-down of the audio EP is the inclusion of video of Decahedron's incendiary MacRock 2004 performance on the disc, which is pretty damn cool to watch. Hamacher continually seems to be beating the drums into submission, then-bassist Johnathan Ford undulates and screams, and Shelby Cinca looks about ready to spontaneously combust at any given moment, even throwing himself nearly offstage at the end of the performance. Intermittently throughout the set, Cinca makes incisive statements about the subject matter of his songs, and the state of the world in general...at times coming close to the indie rock version of a "fire and brimstone" sermon. It's entirely too bad that the audience stands there slack-jawed the whole time, either not getting it or not wanting to. If only more people would listen to the "Delete False Culture" gospel of Decahedron, the world might be a better place. More importantly, the band might still be active. (Mel House // 02/21/06)

I've always been kind of conflicted on The Appleseed Cast, the long-lived "main band" of Hundred Hands vocalist/whateveralist Aaron Pillar (his former Hundred Hands/Cast cohorts, Christopher Crisci and Ed Rose, have apparently dropped out, leaving everything to Pillar and new co-producer Peter Buxton). On one hand, those four Kansas kids were pretty instrumental in making the whole emo-rock scene into the melancholy juggernaut it became for a short while -- they pushed the boundaries between post-punk indie and old-school prog-rock with their convoluted, literate songs. On the other hand, though, the songs themselves never really resonated all that much with me. I liked 'em, and apparently my subconscious latched on fairly tightly to their first disc, The End of the Ring Wars, but consciously, they never really made that much of an impact. They were important, yes, but not exactly something I'd find myself listening to every single day.

After hearing Her Accent Was Excellent, the latest from Pillar's Hundred Hands project, though, I'm wondering if that two-sided thing isn't what it's all about to begin with. This album seems to be about a fight between the two disparate sides of Pillar's songwriting personality -- on one side, he's enamored with studio-created textures, with all those neato swirling washes of noise and crinkly electronic sounds, while on the other, he's a low-key, pop-rock-loving guitar strummer. Throughout Accent, the two sides trade off, noise and guitar rock, until the last third of the album, where they meet face-to-face in the excellent, mind-bending "Dude, You're Drunk." The track starts out as pretty, straightforward jangle-pop but then mutates into a Faint-esque robofunk workout before melding elements of both and soaring up into the sky.

On the "guitar" end of things, there're tracks like "Waiting in Denver, 4:05 AM," which comes off like a warbly, soft-rock version of the Cast's older, more rocking stuff -- it's nicely done, but God, somebody tell them to please never use that cheesy keyboard sound again. It hurts my teeth. (While we're at it, guys, I'd suggest that you not use a sticker to hold your CD closed; one slip when opening, and I had to break out the Goo-Gone to be able to play the damn thing. I'm just trying to help, here...) There's also "Afflicted by Affection," a piece of swinging, languid-yet-electrified blues, and "Misinformation Rules," which reminds me a bit of The Gloria Record but with much lower-key vocals; I particularly like the more upbeat, cheerier bit near the end. The feel of the disc as a whole is very downbeat and melancholy, so breaks like that are welcome when they (rarely) appear.

Also, where the last Hundred Hands album, Little Eyes, seemed to kind of point backwards to The Appleseed Cast's early, more explicitly emo stages right when The Cast were diving headlong into space-rock with their pair of Low Level Owl CDs, Accent embraces the motif wholeheartedly. The best example's probably the very last track on the album, Gayhouse.com, which is far cooler than the idiotic title might suggest and which nears Spiritualized territory in its atmospheric majesty and drifting vocals.

Then there's the more overtly "electronic" end of things, which is...well, it's okay. My initial reaction to the alternately plinky and funky "How Many Licks to the Center" was to sit back and scratch my head, but when Pillar and Buxton kept throwing the little chunks of studio wizardry into the mix, they almost started to coalesce into something interesting. That's almost, mind you. The sound varies, making me think of The Octopus Project (with less urgency or danger to it) at some points and Peter Gabriel's instrumental moments at others, with a few points in-between like "She Disappears," a tiny, blink-and-miss-it bit of glacial, staticky pop, like Statistics' Denver Dalley with an even shorter attention span.

The undisputed highlight of the "electronic" tracks, though (other than "Dude, You're Drunk," as noted above), would have to be "A Downtown Scene" -- I love the murky, distorted bass that slinks along beneath the jangle. Sadly, the remaining tracks -- particularly in the album's second half -- drag the rest down, feeling more like "look what I can do!" studio experiments than actual compositions. "On Fire with a Dolphin" is nice and all, but at the end of the day it's just meaningless fluff, as is the roars-and-bleeps of "Don't Fall Asleep" and the utterly baffling robotic drums and distorted vocals of "Give Up, Yeah."

To that last one, I'd say this to Pillar: yes, please do give up. Don't give up music, no, but quit fighting with yourself and grab hold of both sides of the music you're creating, rather than switching between the two. Her Accent Was Excellent is a fine, fine effort, far better than I'd expected, but if the next Hundred Hands release were more like "Dude, You're Drunk," well...you figure it out. (Jeremy Hart // 02/21/06)

By far The (International) Noise Conspiracy's cleanest record, and after relentless touring in support of their breakthrough album, A New Morning, Changing Weather, the Swedish band exchanges the stripped-down, raucous sounds of the past for more radio-friendly fare. This isn't to say that Armed Love doesn't teem with the same sociopolitical banter the band is known for, but their new sound seems to water down the message. "Black Mask" and "Communist Moon" both stand out as the album's best songs, and the band's usual garage-y sounds will blister listener's ears. Other songs -- specifically "The Dream Is Over," which (from the title, at least) has the potential to be another political screamer. Instead, producer Rick Rubin does what he does best -- makes it a catchy, accessible mess.

Older fans will undoubtedly scream "Sellouts!" after hearing the new album, but The (International) Noise Conspiracy has always been about making music for themselves, and Armed Love follows this same path, even if much of the album sounds like they made it specifically for the label reps. Changing weather, indeed. (David A. Cobb // 02/21/06)

It's been eight years since the last Marbles release, but the actual lag between projects is closer to 13 years, since 1997's Pyramid Landing was a delayed collection of songs that Robert Schneider had recorded half a decade earlier. To put that in perspective, consider that the seemingly interminable wait between Donald Fagen's The Nightfly and Kamakiriad was a slightly zippier 11 years. The difference is that unlike that foot-dragger, Schneider was making music all the while, most notably as the head honcho of the Apples In Stereo. As a result, Expo doesn't have the feel of a major statement, nor does it need to. Clocking it at under 26 minutes and characterized by an offhand (though not at all sloppy) charm, it's a one-man-band effort that finds Schneider playing everything except drums, vibraphone and anything he'd have to stick in his mouth. He sounds a little like Reggie and the Full Effect on "Out Of Zone" and a lot like the Magnetic Fields everywhere else, with programmed backgrounds laying the framework for meatier instruments. That turns "Hello Sun" into low-tech computerized psychedelia, but most of the rest of Expo is simply one pop song after another, with a trio of instrumentals (like the lush and gently cinematic "Jewel Of India") scattered throughout. It's not bad, just a little insubstantial, but anything beyond that would be out of the scope of a project with such modest aspirations. (Marc Hirsh // 02/21/06)

Much has been made of Cursive-related side project The Good Life, but I really haven't seen all that much about Mayday; maybe I just don't read enough "alternative" rags. At any rate, Mayday is the brainchild of Ted Stevens, Cursive's guitarist. The record is on Saddle Creek, the usual group of collaborators is present (including most of Cursive), but one might find the sound surprising. Well..."surprising," that is, if you're expecting the usual straightforward indie-rock side project. Mayday is many things on Bushido Karaoke -- '50s-style balladry, Nick Cave-style doomy storytelling, quirky rootsy rock, angular bluesy rock -- and sometimes all of those things at once.

The impressive part is that it's utterly engrossing and eminently listenable. From the Orbison-esque "Old World, New World" to the (up until now only filmic) juxtaposition of Eastern Samurai stories and Western sensibilities of "Hidden Leaves" to the depressing balladry of "Rock And Roll Can't Save Your Life", Mayday seems dead set on taking seemingly antiquated musical contexts and injecting them with modern relevance. It never sounds like they are trying too hard, however, or being intentionally ironic. Bushido Karaoke actually comes off more honestly than most of what passes for indie-rock these days. It's been said that the coolest thing in the world is not caring if you're cool, and I think Mayday pretty much musically personifies that. (Mel House // 02/21/06)

chug chug chug deeply buried sub-Debbie Harry vocals bash bash bash anemic handclaps in "Bubblegum And Binders" buzz buzz buzz monotonous guitar in every single song blah blah blah god could any of this matter less click click click hey I haven't listened to Damn The Torpedoes in a while... (Marc Hirsh // 02/21/06)