Ah, yes. This is what I find myself wishing rock sounded like all the time. Which says something about my musical tastes, I guess, because this album sounds like a long-lost gem from that fertile period of the mid '90s when indie-rock ruled college radio and bands like Superchunk, Poster Children, and Arcwelder held sway. The roaring guitars, the spoken/shouted vocals, the driving, not-quite-punk rhythms, it's all there, and I can't resist. Tracks like "A Responsible Person" and "Feel Good Ending" surge and churn, the guitar lines and chords weaving in and out of one another while vocalist/guitarists Eldridge Rodriguez and Tony Skalicky speak-shout wry, sarcastic, bitterly smart observations over the pummeling drums and bass; I can practically smell the stale beer and sweat-stained Fugazi t-shirts.

At the end of the day, what's most refreshing about Holding on to Hand Grenades is that, nostalgia aside, it's indie-rock stripped down to its purest form. There are no emo-ballads here, no pop-punk bursts, no garage-rock or nü-New Wave pretensions, no samples, no pretty-boy looks or moppish haircuts -- it's just full-on, we-don't-give-a-fuck-what-you-think rock that knows you don't have to sing sweetly to have melody. Take "Cointelpro," for example -- it's a wild, anxious track that still manages to sound angry and exuberant at the same time, marrying a gorgeously understated melodic line to frenzied, pounding rock the way Hüsker Dü did in their most sublime moments. It's nice to hear somebody do that frantic, desperate-sounding kind of rock but hang onto their sense of fun throughout. That's probably the biggest way in which The Beatings resemble DIY heroes Poster Children, actually -- no matter what they're doing, both bands sound like they're enjoying the hell out of it.

The music's dynamic as hell on the one hand, jumping in and out of the rock guitars and quiet vocals seemingly at a whim, but on the other hand, when the band grabs hold of a guitar line, they ride it for all its worth, churning along at a relentless, hypnotic pace. The songs shift and change direction, as on "Upstate Flashbacks," which starts off like a meandering Sonic Youth outtake but transmutes into something that sounds weirdly like a distorted cover of a Bee Thousand track, or "Stockholm Syndrome Relapse," which begins with breathy female vocals (courtesy of bassist Erin Dalbec) but morphs rapidly into a dead ringer for Vee Vee-era Archers of Loaf. "Scorched Earth Policy" does something similar, transforming in mid-stride from quirky, noodly stomping into speeding, urgent, Replacements-esque rock. And best of all, whatever twist or turn the Beatings take, they're able to make it come off as perfectly natural.

Not all of the specific tracks really stick in my head, I have to admit, but I'm finding that I don't mind, because I get that pleasant, head-bobbing-and-smiling feeling the whole way through Hand Grenades. I mean, if I get buzzed on Jameson's throughout the course of an evening, is it all a waste if I can't remember what each individual shot felt like? Of course not; sometimes the buzz (whether from alcohol or music, although I generally lean toward the latter) is the critical part. (Jeremy Hart // 09/11/06)

Picture yourself down by the bayou: barefoot, sipping on some lemonade, eating fried gator, and listening to some serious slide guitar. Imagine that you are drifting down a gentle stream on a piece of wood with Tom Sawyer, straw dangling from your mouth. What about down in the salon where my man Bobby Brozman is jammin' hard on the twang-banger? Did I say salon? I meant forest.

Suddenly, a deep voice starts to croon you the blues -- often getting to a ridiculous point, which I was really feeling. Some songs made me feel like I was walking down to the water hole with a fishing pole made out of twigs and twine after a long day on the farm.

Brozman's eclectic collection of songs transports you through worlds, cultures, and time. One in a long list of the guy's albums, here Brozman shows that he is the man solo. Let's not forget, however, that he's played with many, including the popular Woody Mann and Djeli Moussa Diawara. The song "More Room at the Edge" is described on Brozman's Website as "Completely new all-acoustic music-hip-hop impressionism...Funky Bolero blues...Art music...Trippy chamber music... This track features Bob playing two Kona Hawaiian guitars, tricone, Baritone tricone, a tiny Greek baglama, Chinese temple blocks, and cajon, with Greg Graber on drums."

That gives you an idea of the types of instruments on this CD. Percussion adds more rhythm to some of the songs, but it isn't necessary in others because of the rhythmic, percussive sounds of a baritone tricone. I doubt I'll ever listen to this CD again, but I can appreciate it for what it is. Blues Reflex is a quality mix of the blues and worldly influences. (Birdlung // 09/11/06)

There was a time when Las Vegas lounge music was taken seriously -- back then, the immortal Rat Pack took audiences by storm and reigned supreme, and even their lounge singer hangers-on got some respect. Then along came Saturday Night Live; they created Bill Murray's lounge lizard sketch and kicked off the popular satirical view of the genre. The lampooning's thrived through the years and has most recently given birth to artist Richard Cheese.

If you haven't heard of him, he's the Weird Al Yankovic of the lounge world; he rearranges popular rock and rap songs into lounge acts. The Sunny Side of the Moon collects classic tracks from his past albums, where he covers all kinds of artists, from Slipknot to Pink Floyd. Some songs are more serious and sound like legitimate covers (covers of U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday" and Radiohead's "Creep" come off pretty straight), but other songs are played strictly for humor. It doesn't get much better than hearing him sing "Open up your hate / And let it flow into me" on his cover of "Down with the Sickness" by Disturbed. Another high moment is at the album's start, during the sing-song-y cover of Nirvana's "Rape Me." Cheese ices the musical cake with his occasional comments to the audience or his bandmembers: "Seriously, folks, we do weddings!"

Wacky banter aside, the music is rather good. Most of it is typical lounge-jazz (piano, guitar, bass, drums, and a few horns), but some of the songs are labeled the "big band versions," and those songs have obviously more expansive instrumentation. In a nutshell, Richard Cheese's music is his namesake: it's cheesy faux lounge-jazz, but it's fun. Recommended for all music fans with senses of humor, and general jazz fans should give it a listen, too. (Patrick Graham // 09/11/06)

On their second EP, UFO Stories, Forest Giants lure you in with a simple and very narcotic musical recipe. Nothing is overdone, nothing is forced, and the end result sounds like they just put a microphone up in their living room and tried to write songs for the first time. The six songs contained here make you want to close your eyes and daydream about whatever makes you feel good. The sound is very bare-bones and has a kind of weird early '90s feel, one that'll remind you of bands that you haven't thought of in years. Which makes sense, by the way, since the band is made up of musicians with some pretty serious cred to their names: bassist Ruth Cochrane played in the Blue Aeroplanes in their early days and later toured with the Mekons and drummer Tim Rippington and guitarist Tom Adams played in the Beatnik Filmstars, who toured with the Flaming Lips, Superchunk, and The Wedding Present.

"Beards" starts things off with a pleading melody and instantly draws you in. It's not complicated and it doesn't try too hard to impress, which gives it a little charm right away. The band immediately shifts gears on the second song, "Oh No," which sounds like a lost, just-discovered Jesus and Mary Chain track. It's my favorite cut on the EP and maintains the band's compact, intriguing songwriting approach.

The third song, "Peculiar Feeling," is a stark and stripped-down acoustic number that paints a beautiful picture by barely moving an inch. It's the beginning of a slow but purposeful descent into the heart of the recording, which is the group's tribute to Elliott Smith, who died while they were making this EP. While there are only a few songs on this effort, they clearly crafted each one to have a point, and I think the listener benefits from the concept. The recording eases down to a whisper on the last few songs, which are more like sculpted AM radio static than anything else. Transmissions from another planet, anyone? Whatever the music's source, this is a solid offering from a band that couldn't care less about what all the other bands from England are doing right now. (Ruben Dominguez // 09/11/06)

I've found my new guilty pleasure. An album saturated with so much indie-pop goodness it makes your tummy hurt from the sweetness. Kid Theodore's seven-song debut EP, goodnight...goodnight, is a pop lover's dream, especially if that pop lover is surreptitiously recovering from a bout of boy-band lovin'.

No, I'm not a closet boy-band fan; I'm not even an out of the closet boy-band fan. But I know a solid pop record when I hear it, and and that's more or less what Kid Theodore is dishing out. Sure, some of their songs (well, two of them) could convincingly be belted out by the likes of N'Sync, but the album is so likeable that you can't help but love the band anyway.

Granted, goodnight...goodnight starts off a bit weak. "Fashion-Able" begins strong, but the off-key attempt at harmonizing quickly becomes off-putting for me. I'm not sure if the unevenness of the vocalists was intentional, but I feel like it took a great deal away from the potential of the song. Perhaps I'm getting older and don't get the indie-pop kids these days? "Lonely Angel," on the other hand, is super cheesy, Velveeta-like, but it's got a good melody and the lyrics aren't so tragic that it prevents you from getting the gist of the song's overall intent (e.g., this guy is "digging you like a grave").

"Diagnosis: You're in Love" -- the song title pretty much gives away the song. You know it's going to be one of those tunes you hate yourself a little for loving so much. The lyrics are sung in such a heartfelt manner that I almost feel bad for laughing as I listen (note that I said "almost"). I love it, but laughing at it makes me feel a little less like a preteen.

Thankfully, Kid Theodore's later musical merit completely offsets the album's earlier lack of lyrical integrity. The music and the genuineness of the lead vocalist gently nudge the listener to move onward with the rest of the record. The progression of the album is fantastic. "The End Is Near" is one of the best songs I've heard in quite some time; it has the perfect combination for a truly memorable indie-pop song, with subtle lyrics, shoe-gazing music with just a hint of trumpet, and the beautifully melodic accompaniment of a mystery songstress. It's exactly what Kid Theodore needed to seal the deal.

While goodnight...goodnight sometimes falters lyrically, it makes up for it with musical integrity, passion, and good times. The band sounds like they know what they're doing, and they seem to be having a freaking great time executing their collective vision. Diagnosis: I'm hooked. (Come on, don't pretend like you didn't see that coming...) (Brigitte Zabak // 09/11/06)

On Heavy Hands, Ladyfinger (ne) borrows from the last 30 years or so of heavy metal. Singer Chris Machmuller sounds like a cross between Robert Plant and Perry Farrell (which should also result in an ego large enough to damage small European countries). Ladyfinger (ne) has done something amazing on this record -- the band takes a contemporary take on hardcore/metal and still manages to make it sound clichéd. It's certainly an achievement, though undoubtedly not the kind these guys wanted.

The band shows range in their songs, too -- they don't just write the same song over and over. "Cause of Shame" sounds like Jane's Addiction, "Too Cool for School" is their big '80s hair-metal anthem, and "Diet Smoke" is a droning thrash song. Weirdly enough, there are a few moments that sound like the Constantines, too ("Don't Lose Your Shadow"). But their songs suck, so it doesn't help. Machmuller's voice is extremely annoying, and the melodies range from boring to banal to irritating (more proof of their range?).

Their Website is ladyfingersucks.com, which may be the best example of truth-in-advertising I've ever seen. In line with that idea, here's a slogan for their marketing campaign: "Ladyfinger (ne) -- putting the 'hair' back in 'hair metal'." They can have that one for free! (Henry Mayer // 09/11/06)

The Pat McGee Band's latest album, Save Me, plays like a real rock n' roll album should. It goes right in the CD player, spins around really fast, and some kind of laser picks up some kind of digital information, and...other stuff happens...anyway, as I was saying, this is a total rock n' roll album. It's just like the Goo Goo Dolls, and thank God for that, because Bon Jovi haven't released an album in too long, and I started to feel like real rock n' roll wasn't going to be played anymore. But along comes Pat McGee (and his Band, too!), and boy oh boy, do they put the "guitar" in "guitar rock." They have drums too, and a bass! Sometimes, they even include sensitive orchestration, which is so cool, because strings aren't just for guitars, and people who play violins shouldn't have to be gay just because they don't play guitar. But most important is Pat himself, because he plays rhythm guitar, and that means that he can sing also with that golden throat, which coats his bittersweet lyrics with rock n' roll. Pure rock n' roll. The fact that they even look like Bon Jovi and the Goo Goo Dolls placates my ultra-desire for lover-boys that like to play music, but that never matters unless the band actually plays real fashionable radio rock, and this band does that, too. Thank you, Pat McGee, for all that unoriginality. (Alex Ross // 09/11/06)

If this single for "INRI" is any indication of who The Plot to Blow up the Eiffel Tower is, and if this is an example of what Art Fag records is going to put out, then I am confident in saying that nobody is going to care about either.

Having never heard of the group before, this single did not make me in any way interested to check out either of their previous full-lengths. The song "INRI" is a boring midtempo tune with lame wannabe Blood Brothers vocals and lyrics. The group's press kit quotes Blender as saying, "The Plot has more tempo changes and snotty attitude than most punk bands can fit into a career."

I find this extremely farfetched, considering that the song "INRI" does not contain a single tempo change. When I think of tempo changes, I think of The Dillinger Escape Plan, Converge, and the aforementioned Blood Brothers. This band wishes it could play like those bands. The only thing I could think of is that maybe the live performance that Blender witnessed at SXSW boasted a bunch of flailing about and talking shit to the crowd like they know something.

I could check out some of The Plot's other material to see if it is any better, but any band that puts out a single of a boring song like this deserves to go unnoticed. The press kit also claims that Alternative Press referred to the band as "one of the top 100 bands to know in 2005." I'm surprised that the magazine was able to put together 100 bands to know last year; does anyone open that magazine anymore? Cause I don't.

Maybe I'm being a little hard on The Plot, but I really thought that it was a terrible song, and I haven't even mentioned the second track, "Boys Keep Swinging," which is a failed attempt at covering a David Bowie classic. Bowie is probably rolling over in his grave -- oh, wait, he's not dead... The third track on the single is a remix of the title track, and is also my favorite cut because of the breakbeat...until it doesn't change for the whole song and gets boring.

That's enough; this band is garbage, and their Website is, too. Hell, they've even affected my game -- I had the disc on repeat while playing NBA Ballers, and I kept losing. (Birdlung // 09/11/06)