The Archive

Last summer, Brand New, a small-time band hailing from Merrick, New York, released "Deja Entendu" as the highly anticipated follow-up to their debut, "Your Favorite Weapon." The style in this album is different from the catchy pop-punk sounds of their first album. "Deja" includes deeper, more meaningful lyrics sung to more melodic, acoustic guitars. Earlier fans might be quick to criticize, saying Brand New has gotten mellower, but they have grown as a band and so has their fanbase. Using metaphors as his foundation, Jesse Lacey, lead singer of the band, finds a more poetic and adventurous outlook than most of his emo peers. Like Bright Eyes, Brand New understand that whispering and screaming aren't the only ways to convey emotion, and that there's more than one emotion worth conveying.

"The Love Below" is Andre 3000's half of his collaborative album with Big Boi. The disc begins with a slow song filled with piano, strings and timpani then fades into distorted guitar. The drums are next, giving order to the chaotic lead guitar, then melding into a recognizable jazzy form, with slight flashbacks of the guitar. What's interesting about this album is that it can go from chaos to an up-tempo jazz piece in just one song. "The Love Below" has a large mix of styles, something other contemporary bands rarely accomplish. The first single off of the disc is "Hey Ya!". This album definitely has experimental tendencies, from being a partial concept album to avant-garde jazz to acoustic guitar-oriented songs. And speaking of concept album, this disc flows smoothly from one song to the next, something that is no easy task to achieve.

This hip-hop group debuted in 1998 and has made three albums since then. Even so, many haven't recognized their talents until recently. The 2003 album "Elephunk" topped the charts with the hit "Where is the Love?" The Los Angeles band uses a stylish hip-hop beat to make up for the use of some clichéd observations and preachy lyrics. They flaunt a passionate, energetic spirit that draws many people to their meticulously produced music. So, in spite of their passé libretto, they may just be able to settle themselves into a groove.

If you've seen the movie Empire Records, you might remember the scene where Rory Cochrane and Johnny Whitworth are posing and posturing to AC/DC. Stiff Kittens' EP has the same quality for air guitar and imitations. The music is what drives this disc. Big guitars, big sound and big vocals. The lyrics are pretty simple, but since they are merely background to the big rock music, it's forgiven. The tracks have the lengthy mid-song guitar solos with plenty of riffage and 70's rock power vocals. The three song EP is perfect length for those interested in a short trip filled with energy and enthusiasm for the mind.

The name might sound familiar, but you can't quite figure out why. Although their second album, The Guest, was released in 2002, Phantom Planet received little attention until their song became the title track for the OC. The Guest is a power-pop record whose songs seem catchy while they're playing, but don't seem to make a lasting impression. Although the production is excellent with clean-cut sounds and superfluous string parts, the group maintains a garage-band sound that doesn't quite fit with the rest of their style. The overall message of adolescent angst is in the quirky, guitar-driven music. The lyrics on The Guest are oddly inconsequential. They're hard to hear, and don't seem to say much of anything anyway. Get this CD for the fun of hearing a young, exciting band attack their songs with passion and power.

Why do people like melodic So-Cal punk? In general, the appeal comes from the upbeat energy of the music; it's not a genre you look to for top-flight songwriting. As a stylistic approach, however, it's easily applied to almost any material. That's where Me First and the Gimme Gimmes score big cleverness points. By taking proven, time-tested material and turning it into punk rock, they nimbly dodge the genre's limitations...while also pumping some fresh blood into older material. This is a weird set however, even for the Gimme Gimmes. There's no theme or central era of music in their sights for this album, which is quite evident as we jump from Zeppelin to Styx to "O Sole Mio". The live setting works in the record's favour, as the Gimme Gimmes' act is much more amusing on the fly with the screw ups that can only come from a group of grown men in powder blue suits as they take a swing at the classics.

Pull up a martini and your coolest attitude and listen for a while, won't you? The M's have a rolling cocktail cart full of odd sound effects, sonically interesting tricks, catchy as all get out melodies and plenty of pop fun. Their self-titled debut album, actually a combination of what was originally intended to be four separate EPs, mines the best sounds of the late '60s and early '70s, but like the best of the new garage rock bands, instead of creating an empty-headed collection of stolen riffs, The M's inject heavy doses of energy, wit, and songwriting skill that makes this more than just another retro recreation. The M's are the latest in what's turning out to be a very fruitful crop of retro, garage rock bands hailing from Chicago. If you like witty carefee pop with no saccharin aftertaste, grab an earful of M's.

As renowned for being Radiohead impersonators as they are for providing extravagant music delivered with harsh intensity, Muse has always stood in other musicians' shadows. Now they finally come out of their shells, in their third album, to invite us all for a taste of gravity in their lyrics that some might mistake for pure arrogance. There are some good ideas layered behind the songs, from the piano in 'Apocalypse Please' to the arpegiated keyboard/guitar on 'Stockholm Syndrome', but this is an album that is littered with songs that could have done with a little more maturity. There aren't enough places where they've really gone for it and made the effort all round for all of the elements of an individual track - if there's a good chorus, the rest of the song sounds comparatively uninspiring. Maybe in a few more years, we'll hear something more worthy than what seems to be mid-teen rock at the moment.

If you're a fan of short, sharp and sweet pop anthems played with aplomb and a fine ear for a guitar riff, this album will be perfect for you - even though summer may have come and gone, songs such as Fall Behind Me will let you feel the sand between your toes and the sea air blowing through your expensively tousled locks. Single 'Gold Medal' is a lot more folky than you expect or want it to be. It doesn't lose anything musically but does perhaps lose that 'Donnas' personality and sultry rock sound and adopts a more acoustic format. Although the tempos are sometimes lethargic and the drums a bit too clunky, this is an album of pure, unadulterated guitar driven pop/rock, although it may be slightly on the poppier side of rock for those who preferred the darker, punkier style of The Donnas' earlier albums.

This is Green Day's latest album to be released in over four years, however it's not really a typical Green Day album. This isn't one of those albums that you can listen to track by track and be satisfied listening to one song a million times. American Idiot is the band's first foray into the ever-so-dangerous market of rock operas. The melancholy melody of "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" will stick to the inside of your skull like salt-water taffy. "Give Me Novacaine" is a soft-hard bruiser of a track, with a sweet acoustic pop verse set against a sludge-drenched punk chorus. It's an unexpected album; most bands hit their peak at a certain point and seem to drop off from there, but Green Day seems to be one of those rare bands that can pull of being great for decades at a time. To say that this is a creative renaissance for the group would be a gross understatement: the fact is that with this album Green Day have finally cemented their position as one of the best rock outfits of their generation. The only question is, where does one of the best power trios of the past decade go from here?

It sounds like an abstract foreign film and well, for the most part, it plays like an abstract film, maybe not so foreign. Aceyalone, Mikah 9 and Abstract Rude make up Haiku De'Tat. They are all craftsmen in their own rights. The three MCs are artists with a purpose to push boundaries and their hard work is evident throughout the album. Their flow is relentless and they make it seem effortless; the tone comes off smooth and rich in soul. It has all sorts of jazz, funk, hip hop sounds with a real mix, and either laid back beats or upbeat fast rhythms. It's theatrical in some parts. It makes for a new sound that mixes well with the vocals. It's all very artsy, original and creative from a hip hop sense. It appeals to the music lover, the sophisticated individual not the 'thug' lover. It has loads of crossover potential and their music is as funky as the title of their new album.

Wyclef Jean's musical tribute to his native Haiti is the mix of R&B, soca, hip-hop, and reggae you'd expect from this eclectic artist. Stepping aside from the major-label playing field for a moment, the ever-unpredictable Wyclef indulges in his Caribbean heritage on Welcome to Haiti: Creole 101, an essentially small album released on the down-low by Sak Pasé Records. The album is a whirlwind musical journey through Caribbean music styles, as written by Wyclef and right-hand man Jerry "Wonder" Duplessis. He has always shown an affinity for Caribbean music, but has fused it with his other affinities, namely hip-hop and pop/rock. Not so here: this is a full-fledged Caribbean album that careens from style to style -- within the course of a single song, more often than not! -- showcasing glints of everything without ever giving into the confines of a single style. It's really an amazing listen if you're at all attracted to Caribbean music.

None of us are old enough to remember when punk first became mainstream with great bands like Green Day, Offspring, Rancid, and even Bad Religion. However, it seems we're all old enough to see the commercialization of punk bands, who now feel the need to be poppier-sounding, and the lyrics evolved to involve love, girlfriends, and breakups. That's why ten years after punk's first appearance, we have radio-friendly "pop-punk" bands like New Found Glory, All-American Rejects, Simple Plan, The Ataris, Sum 41, American Hi-Fi, and of course, the mother of all pop-punk, Good Charlotte. "Palm Trees and Power Lines" is pretty much your average pop-punk album. Its formula, a clutch of upbeat rockers paced out with a few girlfriend-pleasing ballads, is exactly the same as their first album. But there's a sense that its hooks are more murky, that perhaps the band is aiming for some "seriousness" this time around. Their guitar hooks and head-bouncing rhythms still draw a crowd; that's not to say the thick, glossy production of the album doesn't help. This album will please those who appreciate some So-Cal pop-punk as well as those who enjoyed their debut album, Start Static.

Despite the fact that their debut album was an upset due to the suicide of their guitarist, Jimmy Lawrence, this post-rock alternative band have come out with a new album that's gained quite a bit of acclaim. Their marred first album has only made this one seem more serious. This is an album that reflects and bears witness on our times with originality and wit. Rarely has a band been so equally fascinated and sickened by America. And theirs is not just an obvious obsession with the pop culture of the last 40 years. It deals in big simple themes - loss, hope, joy and love. The instrumental codas are well-played; the weak link might lie in lead-singer Sam Herlihy's voice. Some say it's just too weak to carry the songs, but it seems to fit perfectly with the cracks and faults in the music.

The true test for any punk band comes not in how loud it sounds, how fast it plays or how many ancient standard-bearers it can invoke with photorealistic passion. For a punk band to be truly good, you'd need to be able to take them out of any moment in time and place them in another, take them out of any country and place them in another, and they would still fit in. This debut passes the test: they draw on something greater than the time period in which they live: pure alienation and a furious passion. The difference between this album and a lot of others is that it focuses on one genre and perfects it, as opposed to being all over the place in every song. The production quality only helps the overall compilation, whose politically-charged lyrics electrify the gooey melodies. Pick up this album if you're into some straight-up punk rhythms and lyrics.

Some people like to think of Hot Hot Heat as being danceable music, good for clubs and the like. However, I'm going to go with what I saw in them from their first album, which came out in 2003. They're like a Canadian version of The Libertines, except they have more members and without so much attitude. Forgetting about charisma, or their lack thereof, the music is good stuff. They've got organs, need more be said? They're a pretty retro band, which they uphold in this new album, with some very cool raw, spiky guitar moves thrown in. So, if you're a kid sporting drain-pipe jeans and you're into that whole disco backbeat thing, you'll love the new album.

Obviously if you haven't heard of Ben Folds, you probably shouldn't mention it in front of most people. Out on his own, he's still producing some pretty colorful pop-flavored music. Befitting a Ben Folds release, Songs For Silverman is piano filled but having recorded it during a six-week Nashville session there's an odd country twang lacing his usual vocals. The album shows Ben in reflective, occasionally even mournful, mood. The jaunty opening track Bastard offers teenagers that spot of age-old advice normally reserved for grandparents, don't grow up too fast because "pretty soon you'll be an old bastard soon."

I can almost guarantee you've got one of their songs stuck in your head, or you have heard at least one of their songs. If you haven't, go watch the iPod shuffle commercial, which gave them all the glory they'd been waiting for. Formerly known as Caesars Palace, these garage rockers have never possessed the same commercial appeal as fellow Swedes The Hives. Until now, that is. Fuzzy guitars, fairground-style organs and London Calling-esque punk lyrics are what these guys are all about. In fact, this album sounds so retro you'd swear it was recorded in the 70s, though that doesn't mean they haven't got some genuinely brilliant songs. Very little needs to be said; I'm sure we'll hear more from them.

Ok, so they're not breaking any new ground with their music, let's be honest, but is there anything all that wrong with following a proven formula? I think not. It's a solid modern rock effort with excellent lead vocals. That's not to downplay their guitar-playing and tempo, which is pretty sweet too. The lead singer has a strong, but still melodic, delivery that works well with the band's sound. It's a little campy, but that's their style. It's the type of stuff that belongs on modern rock and alternative radio, if that means something to you.

Madcap's dress code -- mohawks, earrings, raggedy clothing -- might be the only thing that makes the Los Angeles band "punk". Their music is not at all subversive (nor are their feigned British accents surprising), and their passionately-sung lyrics often make some weak declarations. The rousing chorus to "Downtown" ("I go down to the city/Even when the rain falls down!") basically means they don't mind walking with an umbrella. They look like and sound like your "generic" punkers, but I have a personal bias for punk in general, so I wouldn't say the album's anywhere near bad. The vocals are a lot like Rancid's lead singer, Tim's, with most of their songs covering the typical staples of punk cliché. They're greatest trick: turning typical Los Angeles-style punk rock out with the by-the-numbers efficiency of a Japanese automotive plant.

The buzz around the critic campfire was that Jimmy Eat World had gone back to their roots, but become "darker". So when I picked up this album, I expected more from it than what turned out to be the epitome of the cliché, "in one ear, out the other". The track titles are simple like "Night Drive", "Drugs or Me", and "Kill", and the plots to those tracks are just as simple: girls, girls, and well, possibly painkillers. I guess you could call "Night Drive", with its late-period Folk Implosion beats, an example of a band "maturing." They play the same notes over and over again and although the production is just fine, the band itself hasn't changed much since their previous albums, Clarity and Static Prevails. There's nothing especially unusual about this album; it's just, well, ordinary. Ultimately, this is the stereotypical emo album, with a little bit of folkiness added.

Like their namesake, Spider Silk Dress plucks dark and hauntingly beautiful strands of a tightly woven web, vibrating with unforgettable melodies and choruses, adamantly sticking with the listener long after hearing the music. Sinister circus tones, female-falsettos, and three part harmonies guide one through a unique and off-kilter indie pop record. There is a sense of loneliness in the music, as if the shuddering isolation of nights in an Irish bus station have finally gotten to the band. Although they're from Ireland, however, they're music doesn't sound so much like their roots. The album is peaceful and melodious; good for rainy days or snowy ones at that. Plus, who doesn't get a kick out of Amber Padgett's bright pink hair?

With some foods, after eating them constantly for about a week and thoroughly enjoying them to their fullest, they turn somewhat bland. The same could be said for an album, especially one like Thru the Glass. The music is big, with guitars that chime with melody and mournful vocals and you can tell there's an underlying ambition that comes with the first song, "Into the Fire", but the mood of the album doesn't go anywhere; it doesn't progress. After the first song, it reaches its peak and while it's not all downhill from there, it doesn't really change much. On top of the mellow disposition of the album, the production is polished and glossy, which can only help. Thirteen Senses are a smaller version of Coldplay with not nearly as much charisma. It's nice to fall asleep listening to, but apart from the aforementioned few amazing tracks, it lacks the real lasting quality that bands such as coldplay possess.

Let's see: a big plodding elephant stomping over everything with its feet covered in all sorts of emotions. That's about what this album is: heavy on the sad tones. It seems like the band's working too hard on their fifth album; like oh say, maybe they reached their peek in an earlier album, and they can't quite top it off. It really lacks the finesse that earlier albums had and the lyrics lack any sort of subtlety that might have existed once. However, it's fun to hum along to the songs and they're coming into the indie niche they so long to be a part of.

When you listen to this album, you have to remember that what you're actually hearing is a fat, balding guy with a dodgy moustache who breakdances in his underwear and is a real hit with the 'laydeez'! There's everything on the cd from bongos, to pianos, to a somewhat odd falsetto rap that occurs halfway through the album. Production, as always, impeccably clean sounding and smooth, but his lyrics, well they're your typical Har Mar lyrics. It's also the perfect party album; it's got the most lovable pervert in the world writing the songs, some fairly awesome 80s bass playing, and some smooth Jackson 5-like vocals. If you're in your mid-30s and you feel like livin it up in the 80s for at least a good hour, go for it!

Social Darwinism: we've all got to adapt to the changes to fit right in, even if it means being completely different from what you want to be. That's where The Brand New Heavies come in, a band of the 90's, back again to fit the 21st century. The Brand New Heavies create funk music that is commercial and not too progressive however it provides a nice introduction into this sound that could appeal to a lot of people. Nicole Ausso, the new lead singer, does a great job of being sassy. They have modernized their sound slightly to fit in with the times and there are some punchy heavy guitar riffs to keep alive that old funkadelic sound that was so popular in the 90's.

Evil Ed has been producing albums and working with the underground network of famous and not-so-famous DJs all over the UK: not something hugely popular in the States. However, he's supposed to be an expert when it comes to turntables and the production of this album is genuinely amazing. There's a variety of sounds on this album, all sitting under the tidy little category of hip hop. It's a brain workout with the depth of the album and its funky and infectious beats. It features the best of upcoming nouveau MCs as well as old-school, popular beats from DJs who have long become legends throughout the UK. For a good hip hop album or an introduction to what pure hip hop is all about, pick this album.

They're an obnoxious bunch of nerds treating punk rock with only as much respect as it deserves, repelling the real world's crude middle-class advances and building a shabby but select vagabond kingdom from a elite group of sheep-like followers. It sounds a bit much doesn't it, even for a debut album? It's not about the music, it's about what they're saying, and well, let's face it, not many people are hearing it loud and clear. Harsh guitars, a gloriously all-over-the-place bass and highly distinctive vocals make this album unique, but it's not going anywhere with those blank attitudes. They're working a little bit too hard to get their message across: get off your lazy bum and do something!

In a musical world where starvation is killing millions of straight-up hard rock fans, Unwritten Law comes off as a pretty little feast for the hungry. Their previous albums weren't big, and they don't come off as an amazingly famous band, but if you like them, you get stuck on them. The hook about their albums is that they have the ability to be played on major radio stations across the country as well as on smaller college-town and independent labels. OK, so their lyrics are pretty basic, not as polished as the "breakage" of one's heart, but that isn't really the point of the music. They've got songs with unbelievable percussions and guitar-rhythms, but they also have an instrumental quality in some of their songs that reminds a lot of people of The Beatles' harmonies. If you're gonna want to get into some punk-rock, give them a try.

When I started listening to this album, I wanted to laugh really hard, because in concert, these guys suck, but, well, pick up one of their albums and you'll laugh; that's it, just laugh. They're like a 60's garage band, with a very retro feel. There's a lot of organ in the album along with some distorted guitars, but they're way too polished for the sound they're aiming for, which wants to feel like garage-band trashiness like the Strokes' first album, but they don't really pull it off entirely. It's not really unique, considering they started out with a pretty eclectic sound on The Beginning, their first EP. They're pretty much your average 'Franz Ferdinand' band that's so popular right now. They lost their hooks and quirks, and set them aside for something more radio-friendly. Hopefully, when they're done going from raging demons to lovers you can fall asleep with, they'll find their way back to the old Features: aggressive, strange, and distinctive.

Well, what to say about the pretty much biggest band ever; they're one of the most universally recognized bands of all time. They're one for the books, but there's nothing entirely new about them either. As always, they play their hugely beautiful ballads and jerky rock parts and in their 11th album, they achieve pretty much the same status as always. However much you expected their album to be some gloomy prediction of the impending global doom they've been fighting so righteously, it's actually not so politically driven. It's more about love and Bono's usual clichéd observations. As always, he's got ominous guitars and shaky grumbles to back him up, but they come off again as always, sounding like U2. I guess once you hit a certain point of superstardom, the only thing left to do is wallow and perpetuate your immortality.

It really takes some nerve to put out two albums in a day and to make both of those albums good. Conor Oberst does do the former, he's gonna have to work on the latter a little bit more before coming back to the bargaining table. In Digital Ash he's pretty much fooling around in the studio with guitarist Nick Zinner from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Jimmy Tamborello of The Postal Service. He's mixing his "diary" lyrics with screams and calling it a masterpiece. The thing about Oberst is that he's undeniably a pop star, but at the same time he's an indie rocker, and that's hard to reconcile. This album is like an indie kid trying to break out into pop and it works. It's got some really exciting beats and some interesting electronica-flavored pop material, but it doesn't really grip me anywhere in the album; I don't feel the need to listen to this album over and over and over until its lost its touch simply because it loses its touch after the first run-through. It's not the usual order of Conor Oberst, but if you want that, try his other album I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning.

I know what you're thinking, or at least what I was thinking when I saw the name: another band named after another famous part of history. Well, you're right, but you're also wrong. If you're hoping for Franz Ferdinand, you're wrong. They do have a feel for some bluesy garage-band rock, but they're not just named after a famous French king for nothing. Produced in Versailles, France, the album actually goes through the story, if you listen carefully to the lyrics, of a boy who thinks he's King Louis XIV. The music is actually some pretty addictive rock, with hand claps to match the pounding drums and snarrrrling guitars that could potentially give them some fame.