Features &
Interviews

Chocolate Weasel
DJ Cam
DJ Method One
DJ Stratus
DJ 3D
Dwindle
Ed Rush
Electronica
Frank Lloyd Wright's California
Ganger
Gapeseed
Her Space Holiday
Holiday Flyer
ICU
Jungle Defined
Kim Salmon
King Rhythm
Laika
Latin Playboys
Lounge Lizards
Mark Robinson
Mixtapes
Monochrome
Most Secret Method
Music Appreciation 101
Pressure Drop
Terrastock II
Third Eye Foundation

Labradford Fixed::Content CD
Graduating from Prazion’s frailty, moving well past A Stable References sleepy drone qualities, to something refreshingly brighter, Labradford’s Fixed::Content is as surreal a soundtrack as one would expect while grounded in a solid tension-freeing confidence. Combining disparate “ knowns” such as Duane Eddie’s guitar work, Ennio Morricone film score, Factory Records drama of Durutti Column instrumentals, one should be able to quantify Fixed::Content ‘s “sound” yet once inside the four song document, one only hears Labradford. The brighter tones of Mark Nelson’s guitar (brought out of the depths by focused engineer Steve Albini) rival the somber posturing of Alan Sparhawks (Low) frozen in time style. Absolutely essential for those pockets of time when one wants to lose themselves in a meditative stereo-human conversation. (Kranky POB 578743 Chicago, IL 60657) – Keith York

Labradford Mi media naranja CD
There's something that I often and stupidly forget. And it's a blatantly obvious thing, the sort which should have been hammered into me after how many years of listening to how many records. Something that never seems to have occurred to a lot of people (mostly the hardcore and thrash crowd like the kids that just skated past my front yard). It's one of those things that I know in the back of my mind, but I often forget it when it comes time to deal with music on a conscious, rational sort of level.

Slower is better.

When you have people on the edges of their seats/headphones/whatever, then you as the artist are in control. Don't cram in 180 beats per minute when you can do it in say 60 or 80. Labradford, along with a few select others, know this and seem to use it as the very building blocks of their music. It unfolds casually, almost slower than you want it to, so that you can take in the texture one second at a time instead of compressing time, which seems to be an urgent drive behind a lot of music. Making you feel yourself in the moment rather than overwhelming you needlessly (because they're quite capable of that, if stories about their live shows are to be believed.) Another writer, talking about Labradford, described them as sort of a musical embodiment of existentialism. I'm not sure about that, since most existentialists were a dour bunch. Maybe Labradford is the musical equivalent of Zen, of simply letting one moment become the next.
In terms of sound, there have been (not-inaccurate) comparisons made between Labradford and the atmospheric sounds that Angelo Badalamenti came up with as scores to the David Lynch works Blue Velvet and Twin Peaks. Like I said, they're not-inaccurate. Especially when it comes down to the atmosphere that both of them evoke, one of faintly misplaced nostalgia (especially in the choice of sparse, reverbed guitar lines). Mi Media Naranja has been called the most cinematic of Labradford's albums, and that I could agree with. Though not cinematic in the grand scale, to be sure. More like a box-full of old 8mm (ah, how vogue) reels that you play back on the spur of the moment, gently taking you into a reverie.

Frankly, I’m not the biggest fan of Labradford. Their first album was okay, but for me it wasn't the revelation that a lot of people saw in it. I'd not really paid attention to their subsequent releases. However, I think that I’ll have to remedy that, after giving their latest a thorough listen. There are some moments of stark and astonishing beauty, intensified by the fact that everything is so minimal that it almost takes you off-guard. And Labradford are to be applauded for their subtle and original use of their samples, which become an integral part of the music (when you can tell that they're there). Instead of ham-handedly using their samples to add things to their music that the musicians themselves are incapable of (like a lot of sampler-utilizing bands do) Labradford's samples are integral to the music without being obtrusive and obvious. One of the best records I've picked up in the last year, hands down. (Kranky PO Box 578743 Chicago, IL 60657) - Matthew Maxwell

Laddio Bolocko Strange Warmings Of CD
About as easy to describe to those ignorant of Laddio Bolocko's lineage (Dazzling Killmen, Craw and Chalk 22), as it would be trying to relate the complexities of the history and cultural meanings of all U.S. 20th century popular culture to Christopher Columbus prior to his eventful sailing trip. Laddio Bolocko weave loose textures of noisy mid-range guitar conjecture pearled with well-mannered bass and hiccuping drums that kick in occasionally reminding us more of their absence than their artifice. While some may justify the existence of Strange Warmings Of as post-Sonic Youth free-rock, I think there is something elegantly akin to coffee table reference books about this album. It is a statement about pop culture as much as it recognizes it is part and parcel of that which dulls the minds and spirits of sheep-like neighbors. Laddio Bolocko is dense, troubling, layered, spare, distant and concrete simultaneously: The looped fractures of vocal lines only add to the confusion as to whether or not this is ready for its 2500 potential fans. Strange Warmings Of may just suffice for those of us spending our evenings typing inane verbiage about albums that mean the world to us. (Hungarian PO Box 132 Elka Park, NY 12427) - Keith York

Ladybug Transistor Argyle Hair CD
Surfacing decades following Monterey Pop, Argyle Hair informs a generation wrapped up in controversy and contradiction. Think back upon the late ‘60s and early ‘70s as the birthplace of the Ladybug Transistor sound, but rather than being a product of then contemporary social morays, the Brooklyn outfit’s latest album is a survey of that past turbulent landscape. Considered “modern” now, may be yesteryear’s “contemporary” while distancing the sound from “mod,” “psych,” “retro,” and a host of other conventional synonyms, the Ladybug sound is a timeless time machine as remarkable in today’s Americana as will be in the future’s Swedish embrace (they’ve cultivated a cultural revolution of their own amongst the Swedes). Perfectly balanced studio-conceived pop on the order of The Carpenters and Burt Bacharach. Majestic. (Merge POB 1235 Chapel Hill, NC 27514, Julie@girlie.com, brendan@girlie.com, ) – Keith York

Ladybug Transistor The Albemarle Sound CD
Residing left-field of the Apples in Stereo's love for all things Bacharach and Wilson, Ladybug Transistor dip into a Beatle-esque pond frequented by Momus, maintained by Lloyd Cole, the Blow Monkeys, and even the Go Betweens and Chills. This album's pop-song magic is irresistible, albeit sinister in it's mysterious references, and should be brought into your lifestyle with time and attention to spare. Magnificent. (Merge PO Box 1235 Chapel Hill, NC 27514) - Keith York

La Huva Pretty Mile CD
One can hear the beautiful quiet seaside town this was recorded in. Whether it be the soothing Robert Forster-like vocals, the tapping snare and keys of Yo La Tengo, or the punchy guitars of Built to Spill you key in on, the melodies are what stick long after the disc has spun down. These tender pop songs warm the rooms of the seaside resort as the sun sets and the townspeople cool, and walkabout the shore as if mimicking the boat sails wavering in the breeze. (band: 57 Bardo Road, Newport NSW 2106, Australia) – Keith York

Laika Good Looking Blues CD
My list of favorite albums of three years now, coincidentally parallel Laika’s output. Winning the honor in ’94, was Laika’s Silver Apples of the Moon, and again in ’97, the duo of Margaret Fiedler (Moonshake) and producer/engineer Guy Fixsen, won my heart with Sounds of Satellites. More than half-way through 2000, another honoree can be attributed to the now-quartet’s (including former members of God and Moonshake) latest efforts in Good Looking Blues.
As if wrapped up within the confines of a crowded, dark, smoky London club, the listener experiences bar-room claustrophobia and pastoral plains of 21st century electronica simultaneously. Amidst the flutes, and turntablism, Laika’s focus on concussive drum antics forming numbing grooves and sampler-play all provide a solid foundation for the alluring lungs of Margaret Fiedler. Calm in her lyrical demeanor, she subverts everything you want to place in the definitions of rock, post-rock, and electronica – many of the same synonymns confounding the definitions of Stereolab’s pop antics – and more, much more. Good Looking Blues is carnival trickery in the best sense of its intoxicating entertainment while the carney pick-pocket hypnotist proves she’s a spiritual leader in melody. 2000 is going to be a memorable year. (Too Pure/Beggars Banquet 580 Broadway Suite 1004 NYC 10012-3223) – Keith York

Laika Sounds of the Satellites CD
An elegant woman stares out the window from the front-passenger seat of a speeding Lexus. Outside, the sun shines brightly. Smug in her finery, she tugs on her fur coat, pulling the fleece tight to the base of her short blonde hair. Still, she cannot escape the cold. Trippy, programmed percussion and the tinkling of a vibraphone, moog and flute intermittently fill the auto with sound. Two endless rows of trees define the highway. Their leaves’ vibrant Fall colors cast reflections in the car’s darkly tinted windows. Inside the car, it is gray and dark, the stained glass impervious to penetration. The woman gazes past her reflection in the tinted glass to the resplendence of the outside world, then back into her own long, colorless reflection. Her image dissolves into the landscape. She sings, “Dead dreams dropping off the heart, like leaves in a dry season,” but outside, the trees boast the richness of their foliage. Her voice floats above the music with sweet disconnection. She longs to escape from herself and the gray details of her life. The softly sung vocals drift dreamily into the air, belying her sadness. The sedan’s speed increases, and seasons begin to turn. As Autumn transforms into Winter, the reflection of the woman is now of one silver hair and faintly wrinkled skin that hides hardened eyes. “I don’t have strength to get away. Lose track of days whiling away. I don’t have strength to get away.” As she breathes these words, the Lexus fades from view over and down a slight hill. An eerie, detached calmness trails the car, a funeral procession for the death of hopes and dreams. (Too Pure Limited (via Motormouth Publicity) PO Box 1944 London NW10 5PJ England) - Steven M. Brydges

L'altra Music of a Sinking Occasion CD
If standing on tall buildings shouting about love worked to woo others, this life would be loud. So quietly I stand on my laptop whispering a great joy in meeting L'altra. They whisper "I love you too" back in ten songs. With the quartet writing flower-petal-delicate pop songs that twirl in meadows and skip stones off gurgling stream-banks, it is hard to believe they would ask for assistance. In recording these songs though, L'altra recruited friends from Pulse Programming, Isotope 217, Sinister Ensemble, as well as Luster King to add an amount of spice barely recognizable by the palette until one digs quite deep into Music of a Sinking Occasion. Perfectly suitable for any occasion, especially those harnessing a "sinking feeling", L'altra's melodic slow-motion antics only mirror the many moods of their listeners. Sit down with these kind, gentle lovers and tell them how you feel. Love is everywhere, and most certainly is loudest in here. (Aesthetics POB 577286 Chicago, IL 60657) – Keith York

L’Altra Music of a Sinking Occasion CD
At dusk, only clothed in sheets, she turned to me and whispered “I really like this CD”. L’Altra soundtracked the 2-hour workout. Unsure if the Chicago quartet imagined their music as creating sensual environments on the other side of the continent a full year after they committed it to tape at three separate studios. Afterall, their minds were on the craft, the job at hand and our lust here in California had yet to blossom back in March 2000.
Music of a Sinking Ocassion caresses and massages the body with slow motion melodies and near-exotica instrumentation. With the heat of summer growing ever nearer, the warm tones of L’Altra on a cool day will magically transform into cool tones in the oppressive heat. The antidote for any discomfort nature can deliver – be it weather-related or the loneliness that ebbs and flows through the lives of single men and women. (Aesthetics PO577286 Chicago IL 60657) – Keith York

Lamb Fear of Fours CD
Lamb is nothing to sequester into small descriptive paragraphs. Five or six sentences fails to offer the platform to analyze the majesty of Lamb's mid-tempo, down-tempo, and drum 'n' bass activities that comprise Fear of Fours. With Tracey Thorn's permission, if ever Ben Watt (Everything but the Girl) collaborates with Beth Gibbons (Portishead) using EBTG's Walking Wounded album as a starting point, the music consumer would have a reference point for Lamb's latest collection. With peers Attica Blues, Nightmares on Wax, Massive Attack, and Morcheeba, Lamb has boiled away the styles, reduced them to their prime numbers, and offered up a new brand o' soul. Lou's vocal style is child-like yet displays a Billy Holiday or Sarah Vaughn maturity. Electronics whiz, Andy, steeped in the heat of Cubase or corraling one of many guests that contributed to this 14-song document, is a generation ahead of his time. (Mercury/Island 825 8th Ave. NYC 10019) – Keith York

Landing Centrefuge CD
With little high-speed spinning in this Centrefuge, the listener is still whirled round and round violently, albeit more slowly, separating themselves from consciousness. Landing's dreamy soundscapes of reverbed guitar and analog keys come from an Orem, UT address but speak a universal space-rock language. Slow motion tempos, and Windy & Carl guitars creating a wall of sound punctuated by bass notes and oscillator whirs make up this, their debut, 26-minute EP. Time and again, when listening to this I want to distill its magic in a catchy, descriptive phrase, yet their otherworldy sexuality alludes my vocabulary. Though I find this amazing, Landing's Centrefuge comes highly regarded amongst their lo-tech electronic/drone music peers – who are likely more critical and snotty than any of us on this side of the stage dive. Magical is the only word that sums this up. (Music Fellowship 108 Dwight St. #4 New Haven, CT 06511) – Keith York

Landis One Fine Friend +2 7”
“One Fine Friend” encompasses all things-Sarah Records edging toward Even As We Speak and Brighter but doing it via guitar and drum machine. Very nice quiet time music. The flipside showcases some low-key guitar echoes that sedately move the stylus inward and upward. Like sleepy weekend mornings with clouded skies barely peeking through one’s windows, Landis’ songs are calming introspective times offsetting the turbulent pace of the weekday routines. (Mind Expansion PO Box 725161 Berkley, MI 48072)

Land of the Loops Hurry Up and Wait CD
When Mo’Wax introduced us to smoke-filled-room beat junkies like Nightmares on Wax and Attica Blues via their Headz collection, it startled those of us awaiting a turn in sampler culture. Stateside, Land of the Loops and Buckminster Fuzeboard have been bubbling just below the surface of the headphone set, treating popkids and K Records subculture addicts to some addictive note ‘n’ chord trickery. Hurry Up and Wait is best viewed as a sample of both projects, as two songs “eastes park” and “extra chicken” are billed as Buckminster Fuzeboard vs. Land of the Loops, while the first three index marks are credited solely to Alan Sutherland (aka Land of the Loops). Incredibly delightful from whatever perspective you are approaching, this angular effort of pop, lo-fi beats, and a sinister melodic approach is worthwhile. (Up PO Box 21328 Seattle, WA 98111) – Keith York

Land of the Loops Hurry Up and Wait CD
When Mo' Wax introduced us to smoke-filled-room beat junkies like Nightmares on Wax and Attica Blues via their Headz collection, it startled those of us awaiting a turn in sampler culture. Stateside, Land of the Loops and Buckminster Fuzeboard have been bubbling just below the surface of the headphone set, treating popkids and K Records subculture addicts to some addictive note 'n' chord trickery. Hurry Up and Wait is best viewed as a sample of both projects, as two songs "eastes park" and "extra chicken" are billed as Buckminster Fuzeboard vs. Land of the Loops, while the first three index marks are credited solely to Alan Sutherland (aka Land of the Loops). Incredibly delightful from whatever perspective you are approaching, this angular effort of pop, lo-fi beats, and a sinister melodic approach is worthwhile. (Up PO Box 21328 Seattle, WA 98111) – Keith York

Land of the Loops Puttering About a Small Land CD
If you entered a toy store without ever witnessing the engaging power of Mattel's and Hasbro's line of goodies, you'd likely faint suddenly with joy. The same goes for those virgin's to Land of the Loops' product line: This and the debut, Bundle of Joy, are pieces of necessary entertainment equipment for ages 1-and up. Approximating the lo-tech minimalist synth-pop of They Go Boom, and early Depeche Mode, with the sinister psychoses of Magnetic Fields and Momus, Alan Sutherland (a.k.a. Land of the Loops) lands yet another bombshell on the record-buying public. Again with his female vocalists in tow, these dozen songs are an essential addition to your play regimen (as are his workings with Buckminster Fuzeboard). If only Toys-R-Us had an aisle for lo-tech sampler bumpin' jeep beats. Parental supervision should be avoided at all costs. (Up POB 21328 Seattle, WA 98111) – Keith York

Land of the Wee Beasties Wild Dogs Will Kill You CD
I listened to Wild Dogs Will Kill You time and again knowing my delight would be hard to translate onto newsprint, and most certainly hard for anyone reading this to believe my sincerity. Land of the Wee Beasties are of a rare breed of music creators I refer to with the words “beautiful” and “relevant” in most sentences containing their name and/or their records. They appear and disappear like Rodan did. The echo similar musical sentiments as June of ‘44 and more disparate cousins residing in the emo genre. In every song they write, Land of the Wee Beasties illustrate musical dichotomy: sounds and forms clashing on a cleansed palette. Allow yourself the time to savor and digest the artifacts they create from guitars, drums and voices - always the sum of which exceeds the value, merits of the individual elements. These songs create spans of timelessness for the listener to reside within, to share with others and to revel in their own fragile existence. Though strength is displayed in their loudest moments, Land of the Wee Beasties illustrate human fragility by creating tones, forms, song structures synonymous with the purest most brilliant moments of being young. Guitars that entangle your synapses equate to adolescent curiosity while a backbeat of an adult’s firm hand raised above their child is opposed by vocals of intertwined lovers tangled in bedsheets. It is hard to break free from the impact of such songs, such finite moments in time that somehow transcend the CD player becoming part of you. (Sunney Sindicut 915 L St #C-166 Sacramento, CA 95814)

Langheinrich, Ulf Degrees of Amnesia CD
What seems as if it is broken into three “movements” is a collection of complimentary, while unnerving, works of sound (art). Collages of oscillator drone & hum draw from or exude near-percussive assemblages to color a landscape gray. As each tint (or shade) changes the grays’ reflection, the plane they exist on swallows the acoustics offered by all surrounding space creating a singular form. This new form becomes a unique listening environ absent of reference points to real time or space. Akin to placing the side of your head against a neighbor’s wall or lover’s door, you try to imagine what lies beyond the opaque enclosure that separates you from your prey. From the muted sounds, your mind paints landscapes representing your worst fears and inhibitions. (Asphodel PO Box 51 Chelsea Station, NYC 10013-0051) - Keith York

Lapse, The Heaven Ain't Happenin' CD
The duo of Chris Leo and Toko Yasuda have created something remarkable (with Nicholas Vernhes at the Rare Book Room's controls) to experience. Ass-spanking, slap & tickle drums dance with sidewalk skipping guitars to create a delicious indie-rock after-school special. Whether Toko (ex-Blonde Redhead) or Chris (from the Van Pelt) sing, in English or Japanese, The Lapse warm you up with something unearthly. My first blush was proven horribly wrong when I heard Victory at Sea or Retsin in the lo-fi treble, but the undergrowth of mid-range and the spanked-bottom-end came through and raised the temperature like sun beating down on sidewalks underneath double-dutching tennis shoes in July. (Southern POB 577375 Chicago, IL 60657) – Keith York

Lassie FoundationPacifico CD
El Rey CD
Stoned on hydroponic weed and moderately priced stripmall-liquor-store-bought-booze, the evil twin to christian rock makes noise. Flying in the home recording studio are rockers comfortable with Jesus and their mission to rock, including one member of Starflyer 59. What we find wrapped inside the gift box is stoner shoegaze pop fueled on Beach Boys and Bacharach influences and as equally filtered through UK noise-poppers Ride, My Bloody Valentine, and Lush as well as the Elephant Six generation. With comebacks and retro-cool being the flavor of the day, it shouldn't have taken this long for such delectable sounds to come of age – after all we've had the Field Mice turn into Trembling Blue Stars, East River Pipe get nods from the rock press, and Stephen Merritt become a minor New York celebrity! Lassie Foundation have down-home cool going for them aside from the purest addictive shoegaze melodrama this side of heaven. Pacifico, their small-press self-released debut, will be re-released to store shelves by Anisette shortly. (Shogun Sounds/Anisette PMB 316, 18032 C-Lemon Drive, Yorba Linda, CA 92886) – Keith York

Lefty’s Deceiver Convesations on Favored Nations CD
With the Miner Street studio as an axis, and Brian McTear twisting knobs, Philadelphia’s Lefty’s Deceiver produce a sonic punch that may take your breath away. Sharing energy in the city of brotherly love with Lenola and Matt Pond PA, Lefty’s charm for the sound of Shiner and Hum features a twist of pop-psychedelia fueling a unique impression. A delightful first impression despite this being their sophomore outing. Now it’s time to search out Conversations’ predecessor. (Happy Couples Never Last POB 36997 Indianapolis, IN 46236 hcnl@hcnl.com) – Keith York

Le Mans Ama Hil Zaigu 7”
Whether you favor me explaining this as a Spanish speaking version of Stereolab sans moogs, yet with acoustic guitars or a Pizzicato Five recording demos on a 4-track - I think you would understand where I was coming from. A first for me was enjoying the Spanish language sang. The artwork’s minimalism works with the two songs folded inside...purely intimate in their delivery with no frills attached. While Elefant has been supporting Le Mans’ discography abroad thus far, Grimsey has released this single as a taster before they unleash a domestic CD compilation of much of the band’s recordings. The band is also a highlight of the Elefant Radio compilation CD discussed elsewhere inside these pages. (Grimsey PO Box 541 Stillwater, MN 55082)

Le Mans Le Mans/Entresemana CD
In compiling two releases by this Spanish combo, Grimsey introduce American indie-poppers to the sweet femme-sung pop of Elefant stable dwellers, Le Mans. With melodies that shimmer like the noon sun upon the waters of the neighboring lake, Le Mans' foreign wordplay never detracts from your humming along. Pulling out the umbrella once or twice a year isn't so tough with songs like these on the stereo: Slip on the raincoat, run down the shore and jump puddles and skip rocks to rhythm. Le Mans sound like Everything But The Girl's old skool poetics, and The Gist's more upbeat moments, as they approach the shimmy 'n' shake of Delightful Little Nothings' dance parties. (Grimsey PO Box 541 Stillwater, MN 55082) - Keith York

Lenola The Last 10 ft. of the Suicide Mile CD
In the same manner as junkies needing more heroin to get their “fix,” us pop fans find it increasingly difficult to get a fix from many of the records available to the public. So we search the new and used bins, friends’ collections, labels, bands and others to find what we “need.” Lenola are of a rapidly decreasing population of recording combos that delight my ears with feedback motion, teetering harmonics and imaginative songs. Lenola’s two earlier singles sculpted some post-MBV static into 4+ minute journeys, The Last 10 ft... allows the band time and space to stretch their limbs into the foray. A new domain now exists for Lenola, one of ecstatic and triumphant pop songs laced with a brightness that others fail to capture. And honestly, they did one fine job of recording and releasing this album themselves. Too few rock fans have probably witnessed this record. With age and a maturing addiction hopefully we will all continue to learn more about Lenola and a bit more about ourselves. (Tappersize 884 Greentree Square Rt. 73N Marlton, NJ 08053)

Lenola The Swerving Corpse CD
An acquaintance questioned why I write paragraphs, reviews if you will, about music releases. They contend that no one reads these thoughts of mine. No one cares. No one reading this paragraph will buy the record because I introduce it with complimentary words. Fine. No problem. Folks like Steve Brydges and I love music. We love to write our thoughts about music. Like writing fiction, it is an expressive mechanism we have chosen to deliver the ideas bouncing around the inside of our skulls. Like an indoor racquetball court with 40 million players and balls echoing inside the gymnasium acoustics. Lenola stir in me something that pushes me to the computer keyboard. They are one of the few bands that creates an emotional response so strong that I need to write about it. I need to purge the feelings. I need the release writing provides. They express their emotions and display their “release” through thirteen rock songs collected under the heading The Swerving Corpse. This, their second self-released album, displays their growth and an ever-mutating song writing style . While taking a few cues from the Flaming Lips’ early drugged-psych ramblings, My Bloody Valentine’s string bending cues, and Slanted and Enchanted doses of numbing pop, Lenola, nearly three years old, stare at the crowds from atop the middle step of the winner’s circle podium. They drink milk like winners. Got Lenola? At a few stops on your journey through The Swerving Corpse, you will see signposts. Signs pointing the mileage distances between landmarks like Swervedriver, Slowdive, Radiohead. Subtle signposts, nothing neon, bright, or flashy. Complex, and endearing The Swerving Corpse is a handful. (Tappersize 884 Greentree Square Rt. 73N Marlton, NJ 08053)

Leo, Ted/ Pharmacists Treble in Trouble CD
Having left the songwriting style of (his former band) Chisel behind him for the Teddy Leo release on Gern Blandsten (as Tej Leo Rx), the power-pop anthem writing is back in full swing on this 5-song release. This time supported by a proper band, The Pharmacists (including MakeUp’s James Canty, Secret Stars’ Jody Buonanno, and Warmers’ Amy Farina), the songs are as lively and energized as your favorite Chisel numbers – steeped in Magazine, Buzzcocks, Jam, Wire and Gang of Four Brit post-punk energy. Welcome home Teddy and crew! (Ace Fu POB 3388 Hoboken, NJ 07030) – Keith York

Le Pimp Live Mix CS
“Get down and boogie” is Le Pimp’s seductive call to the dancefloor. In this live mix of his own tracks recorded at LA’s Bump!, we find the Pimpster waxing poetic in the funk, house, go-go, and acid domains. Keeping the four-four thing constant throughout, Le Pimp maxes the PA output for the duration of the hour-long set. Akin to Daft Punk’s nonchalance, their casual “Frenchness,” Le Pimp stirs a drink with cymbal & hi-hat while the bassbin plays roulette with your hips. (Bump! PO Box 7142 Santa Monica, CA 90406)

Les Savy Fav “Rodeo” b/w “Blackouts on Thursday” 7”
With this single, Les Savy Fav send a call-to-amps to the members of the guitar nation. Awaken from the dub drug sleep and take up arms. Come fight the good fight in defense of 6-string amplification. With clutched fists, the valiant thrust lit sparklers into the air, alighting the night with the glow of two bold anthems for noise. Urgent, messy guitars and scrapey, scrappy vocals strew their mania across a battlefield riddled with the remains of Korgs and sequencers. Les Savy Fav has struck a victory here, but the war is far from over. People, Les Savy Fav needs yr help to defeat the kitsch-collecting brain-sucker that is MoogMania. Won’t you please join them in their struggle? (Sub Pop PO Box 20645 Seattle, WA 98102. A CD/LP is also available from the Self-Starter Foundation) - Steven M. Brydges

Lesser Birds of Paradise A Suitable Frame CD
After years of crunching loud testosterone-fueled rock, my ears welcome the tenderness of outfits like Lesser Birds. Whether it is the morning sun cascading through east facing windows or the sudden chorus of “Row of Lights” that startles the heart, the feeling is bold. To awaken every inch of your skin bodysuit, every synapse encased in your skull, or every emotion you’ve failed miserably at using, A Suitable Frame wraps the early morning discovery in a context of understanding. (Loose Thread POB 220180 Chicago, IL 60622) – Keith York

Less Than Jake Rainbow Connection 7”
I started with the b-side on this one after looking at the strangely wide and short grooves that occupy it. A couple joke songs, the punch lines of which I didn’t get. Punk is as punk does. The flip had a couple of faster, louder “pop punk” songs that I didn’t like either. Notwithstanding, my opinion is just that, I always ask the question “what is this adding to the common cultural mix that Western Civilization is trying to cope with” - here again the question goes unanswered. (Liquid Meat PO Box 460692 Escondido, CA 92046)

Letter E No.5ive Long Player CD
Stretching the palette in each direction of the compass, The Letter E’s elasticity entertains the listener that spent months with their previously released EP. Again, the cast and crew from Rex, June of 44 and Blue Man Group locked the recording studio door from the outside and played in front of Bob Weston’s microphones. The No.5ive Long Player at first glance seems a bit more elaborate, exhaustive of their talents, but with successive listens across different populations (friends, family, house guests etc.), the seven songs let loose their pretentious and fill the soul with energy. Simultaneously soothing and energizing, The Letter E must be experienced while your youth still enjoys a hearty metabolism. (Tiger Style 149 Wooster St. 4th Floor, NYC 10012) – Keith York

Letter E EP CD
While some have notable careers, the others that murmur in mediocrity in the absence of a press-blitz still retain the highest caliber of thought, foresight, intuition and glandular inventiveness. Members of Rex and June of '44 in this case, collaborate with several folks with no known noteworthy career and the result is damn near incomprehendible. To listen to EP with no knowledge of the aforementioned rock acts leads one to wonder aloud how this 4-song construction came to be. Questions arise about the lineage of those members not from bands with multiple noted releases behind them. It reminds one that music requires no lyrics, and those songs without words are to be listened to carefully, attentively. Twists and turns of melodies like candy hitting your palette, surprise and delight the endorphin agents leading your brain to relaxation and comfort. Just damn good for you simpletons that need no lengthy description, damn good I say, damn good. (Tiger Style 149 Wooster Street, 4th Floor, NYC 10012) – Keith York

Let's Go Bowling Freeway Lanes CD
It has been at least a decade since I first recall seeing listings in the local paper, or photo copied fliers at the local record shop, for this combo's live shows. That said, I also have never witnessed them live. Ska, like polka, is just one genre of music that passes me by out of ignorance and a lack of investigative curiosity...but... Freeway Lanes yielded the opportunity to bypass the sweaty 16-year old pimply faced kids dancing drunk around me, by allowing me to listen to Let's Go Bowling's music (and in this case a live recording) on its own. In a similar fashion as the current swing craze, Freeway Lanes is all about dancing, shouting aloud, throwing your arms in the air and having fun. The energy encased in this band is hardly comparable to the lack of energy I have witnessed on behalf of many live bands I have encountered who seemingly design their music endeavors around a lack of energy. This is entertainment. Freeway Lanes is like a day at the fair or amusement park -- you don't necessarily visit daily but when you do, you lose yourself in the sights and smells that keep you smiling even while you walk two miles to the car at the end of the day. (Asian Man Records) - Keith York

Leung, Kaman Shifting Shapes 12"
Tone-arms wobble as needles try their damnedest to stay in the grooves of Kaman's 2nd 12" (the first is out on PMS Plan). Four dimensions of Kaman's Chinese/Swedish DNA unfold themselves as archetypal hip-hop beats deconstructed by futurist ideals. Mercurially shifting shape and tone, the tracks "Testify", "Nothing To Do" and "On My Way" parts 1 and 2 take on the hues of minimalist techno, and jeep-beats akin to Them, Doseone, and Downslide lo-tech approaches to American born downtempo. Kaman's mom should be proud. (Drop Beat PO Box 99156 Emeryille, CA 94662) – Keith York

Liberty 37 The Greatest Gift CD
As the Welsh guitars lit up the room, I felt the fear of The Greatest Gift's short-fused firecracker. The guitar heat, like a sparkler getting too close to the fist gripping its electric terror warmed the room with the listener's (my own) fear. On a grander scale than July 4th entertainment, The Greatest Gift, allows for the quartet formerly known as Travis Inc to light the sky with Quicksand-meets-Helmet search lights casting a pop song glow across the horizon. Unfortunately those that can't afford the time and money will sit on the curb playing with army men and Legos until this reaches them and kickstarts their life. (Beggars Banquet 580 Broadway, Suite 1004 NYC 10012) – Keith York

Libido Killing Some Dead Time CD
Like sitcoms, the familiar and the informal are the foundations for success in terms of acceptance by the large aggregate of consumers the producers hope for. This trio and their production team have created an elegantly acceptable and praiseworthy consumable document underscoring the state of 90s guitar pop. While distinctly different than the 60s leanings of folks like Oasis and The Verve, Libido’s shimmering pop songs are closer to the Wonder Stuff’s late-80s ecstasy. Hooks abound, melodies as constants throughout, and energetic 4/4 drumming are merely the ingredients detailed on the package’s exterior, what they equal when added together is something entirely unaddressable in text. (Fire/Velvel 740 Broadway NYC 10003) - Keith York

Lifter Puller s/t CD
I guess some sort of letdown was inevitable. After putting the “Slips Backwards/Nassau Coliseum" single on every mixed tape within reach, I was ready to enshrine their ensuing debut album right next to Pavement’s Slanted and Enchanted before Lifter Puller had even set foot into a recording studio to put it on tape.
It’s not that this album is a disappointment. It has many excellent moments. Pretty melodies surge incessantly forward, as the rhythm section sets a pace suggesting a long drive with the top down on a sunny day is a suitable answer to anybody’s problems. Steve Barone’s pointed lyrics, dripping with sarcasm, are amusing and often memorable. It’s just that some bands are better off sticking to the singles format, where their lack of differentiation in song writing is not as apparent. The patterns of the uptempo songs are too similar, with the bass and drums chugging along at the same brisk pace while the guitars toss around melodies. Changing things up a bit would definitely help. Barone focuses too much on rhyming, and, after a while, his delivery tends to grate on the nerves.
Despite all of this, Lifter Puller has all the ingredients necessary to become a top flight pop band. Put any three of these songs on a 7," and you've got a winning single every time. Perhaps that’s the best way to enjoy this album (Skene! Records PO Box 12921 Berkeley, CA 94712) - Steven Brydges

Lifter Puller Half Dead and Dynamite CD
FM rock radio worth driving long distances to. An album I had heard a long time ago on their tour, finally released for consumer purchase. Though the singer’s nasal vocals were a bit lacking on the first few tracks, I soon warmed up to them as an endearing ingredient of the whole document. I Vistas of green and desert brown passed by the window as the sunroof blazed with sun warmth sunroof blazed with sun warmth and a blue I had never witnessed. Clouds whirred had never witnessed. Clouds and guitars whizzed by as an older brother sang these songs to me. Occasionally light showers would interrupt the drive’s serenity, soon passing with windshield wipers akimbo and dampened open-sunroof hair. A chill shot through me. (No Alternative 2217 Nicollet Ave. S. Minneapolis, MN 55404)

Lifter Puller Half Dead and Dynamite CD
Laconic lacerations from the sharp-tongued, mid-flare, shirt-collar set. Someone quick and straighten my horn-rimmed glasses, because I am rocking too hard to do it myself. Working within this pop craft, it is so hard to stay this side of dated and still remain jaded. It is here, among the realm of the fly-by-night bands and fickle fans, that Lifter Puller excel. They turn pop conventions inside out, twice, so they remain pop conventions, yet now the insides are revealed. What lies beneath a melody is an emotion which compels the musician to strike pick to ax. Reconventional pop? Lifter Puller tie a new twist on an old tristful melody, supported by sarcastic lyrics that offer succinct observations to sorry situations. Steve Barone’s vocal delivery has improved greatly. Gone is the repetitive drone he used throughout their very-recent debut full-length record. His singing has become more varied, gruff, and infused with energy. This IS the Lifter Puller album I was awaiting. (No Alternative (via Hyper Publicity) 2217 Nicollet Avenue S. Minneapolis, MN 55404 or http://www.tt.net/noalt/) - Steven M. Brydges

Liimanarina S*permarket CD
This is punk. Cut and paste clippings and typewriter script collaged together and photocopied in some mental hiccup that only these Finns could muster. No-fi extreme demo-tapeness stirred questions about S*permarket’s meanings and raison d’être. Drag City obviously understands the deeper subtext I can’t fathom or somehow missed while in the same room as this rang out on my speakers. I have read the internet chat about Liimanarina and their label Bad Vugum - being the voyeur I stuck vertically like a fly on the wall. I have no reason to keep a tight grasp on this disc, I do not hold this dear to my heart. That said, I want those that embrace this CD as meaningful to step forward to introduce themselves and explain the manifesto that I obviously missed. (Drag City PO Box 476867 Chicago, IL 60647)

LiLiPUT s/t CD
Spanning the fiver year career of Zurich punk upstarts LiLiPUT (who formed in ’78 as Kleenex), this double CD is actually a reissue of a decade-old disc former members released. The collection of all of LiLiPUT/Kleenex’s output spans five singles, two albums and fourteen odd songs (many of which were not released until the CD collection resurrected them) from the archives. Despite the lineup changing several times, Klaudia Schiff and Marlene Marder suffered through a cultural upheaval as punk transitioned to new wave, the hotbeds of great music migrated from London to New York to Los Angeles and back again. Tagged for their similarities to The Slits, the band toured with (now rough Trade legends) The Raincoats, Swell Maps, Spizz Energi, Subway Sect, Scritti Politti and Red Krayola. Decades later I can hear Gist/Young Marble Giants in the mix as well, knowing for sure that bands like Sleater Kinney, Tiger Trap, and Bratmobile are rooted in the hip-shakin’ delerium offered across this CD set. (Kill Rock Stars PMB 418 120 NE State Ave. Olympia, WA 98501, press@killrockstars.com) – Keith York

Lilys/Aspera Ad Astra split-CD
Despite the fact that the Lilys' tracks were recorded six years ago, the four new Aspera Ad Astra tracks couldn't sound better together on the same CD. So closely approximating the sound of each band, the inattentive listener may have a difficult time telling the difference in song writers on track 4 and 5 where the seam occurs between the two bands. Lilys tracks, though not their best, are representative of their healthy discography of post-shoegaze gushy drama. With the requisite relaxed pacing, the hazy guitar distortion and the constancy of strong 4/4 drumming, you've got some damn enjoyable songs. Aspera Ad Astra really belong center stage with four post-garage shoegazin' pop songs that melodically move well beyond anything they've recorded thus far. (Tiger Style 149 Wooster St. 4th Flr, NYC 10012) – Keith York

Linoleum Dissent CD
Since someone recently mentioned the soon to be released Elastica! album was good, I have had their first album on my mind. Linoleum have it on the brain. Every one of the 13 songs on Dissent speak to Elastica! fans in a less immediate, confrontational manner. DGC are already referring to Linoleum’s singer as “striking” - and without seeing her I sense a marketing angle we are used to - cute singer = MTV exposure = sales. Linoleum’s songs are passive, pedestrian pieces of time - not too timely nor lasting. (DGC 9130 Sunset Blvd. Los Angeles, CA 90069)

Lion “Live at Direct Drive” CS
Recorded live on the decks (on 9/26/98) at Direct Drive in NYC as part of a night with DJ Seoul and the Tech Fu-Do massive, this cassette prominently displays Lion’s ability to rock a crowd. As owner of the Jungle Nut/Nutty Distribution collective, Lion is doing his fair share promoting and marketing drum ‘n’ bass in the US. One should ask where he finds time to rock the decks after a long week? Most of the tape showcases Lion pushing the pitch control up over 180 while dropping some wicked bass attacks provided by the latest crop of vinyl coming through his doors. The rawness of the delivery and energy from these tracks puts insiders like Lion on the cutting edge -- being able to play records days or weeks before they hit retailers bins is a luxury many wish for! Pick this up or wait for the soon-to-be-released 4-pack of cassettes memorializing all of the DJs that played a set on this remarkable evening. (contact: Nutty Distribution/Jungle Nut 718-875-3724)

Liquor Giants Every Other Day at a Time CD
Half-way through my first listen to this record, I started swearing profusely and couldn't get the damn thing out of my disc player fast enough. I'm sure the Liquor Giants are swell guys, and that their 60s faux psychedelic-bliss summer rock plays well at the fraternity houses and at college bars, where the white hats nod in unison and the girls wave their hands in the air as if
they're hoping to get picked-up by the band, but I graduated a couple of years ago, and the memories of Big Ten campus life are hard enough to bear as it is. These are summer songs, I suppose, filled with backing vocals, strummy guitars, tambourines, hand claps and, unfortunately for the band, not a single original idea. I do credit the singer on his fairly clever lyrics, however. (Matador 625 Broadway NYC 10012) - Steven M. Brydges

Little Champions Pillow CD
In so far as, The Pixies tugged and pushed the listener around with percussive and bassline jerkiness, the Little Champions' music has a reference point. Inside that assessment is plenty of room to give them the benefit of the doubt -- they are smart as a whip and willing to show you in string, vocal and rhythm bending. A wonderfully askew pop comb that in a coy Gang of Four post-punkness, have a dark wit about them that makes listening a repeated exercise. From a label that has yet to falter. (Barsuk POB 31016 Seattle, WA 98103) – Keith York

Little Champions Transactions + Replications CD
On their recent Barsuk label tour I witnessed the Little Champions, sandwiched between This Busy Monster (includes the label owner) and Death Cab for Cutie, in a wholly different context than Transactions + Replications offers in my living room. Listening to the disc across the room at the dining table, remembering the power-keyboard of the live experience, while being confronted with better balanced production/recording, I hear a different band. Live I thought of them as a Sonic Youth-empowered Northwesterly pop band; here at home I hear Spinanes, Au Pairs, Go-Gos, X, XTC, and shades of the Yo-Yo and K Records compilations of yesteryear. The context of the live-sandwich has been hindered by hindsight that only recalls the majesty of DCfC while standing on its own this morning Transactions + Replications is simply wonderful. (Barsuk POB 22546 Seattle, WA 98122) – Keith York

Liu, Michael Songs of the Marionette CS
According to the tape’s liner notes, Songs of the Marionette is a tribute to Liu’s girlfriend Jennifer, “for the love she has bestowed upon and inspiration she has given me…” Songs… being Liu’s debut mixtape, is not only an admirable dedication to the source of its motivations but is also a showcase for unearthly mixer skillz. Basing his set around a number of Juno Reactor tracks (as well as tracks on the Tip, Koyote, and Platipus labels), Michael whirls the club (or living room) around with driving kick-drum dependent techno. Ebbing and flowing like storm-driven white water, the unrelenting high-speed beat is seductive, as I assume Miss Jennifer is also. (Illuminations PO Box 700194 San Jose, CA 95170, 408.725.0542)

Livehuman Elefish Jellyphant CD
Defined fairly accurately as a live funk hip-hop power trio, Livehuman’s latest Darwinian puzzler, Elefish Jellyphant, is pure entertainment. The San Fran combo of stand-up bass and strings by Andrew Kushin, standard drum-kit and a plethora of percussion instruments by Albert Mathias, and DJ Quest on his Technics turntables is less about jazz than a straightforward instrumental collection of live-organic hip-hop. With the smoky 4/4 grooves of early MoWax (and inherently the bay-area vibes of DJ Shadow and the Solesides collective), turntablism on par with the X-ecutioners, and 50s cool jazz vibes from the stand-up bass throb, Elefish Jellyphant is as straight as it is experimental. Livehuman extend the base definitions of hi- and fi-. (Matador 625 Broadway NYC 10012) – Keith York

Lofty Pillars When We Were Lost CD
Michael Krassner and Wil Hendricks have created an album with the warmth of a crackling fire in the family hearth. Tender pop songs written centered around the piano soar skyward raising the spirits of the listener even in the most dense San Franciscan fog bank. As guitars, bass, and lightly tapping drums and cymbals surround the piano lines supporting the melodies with traditional arranging style, the pedal steel guitar, cello and accordion add the needed touch of No Depression Americana that keeps the fire burning bright. (Truckstop 2255 S. Michigan Ave. 4W Chicago, IL 60616) – Keith York

Lollipop Dog Piss On Dog CD
With an "uh, tut, teet, fo," Lollipop turn their cover of Arthur Lee's "7 and 7 is" into an insurance claim, damaging it beyond all recognition. Scorching it with badly out of tune guitars, Lollipop tear at this and eight other songs, all their own, in an effort to redefine the term "out of control." Twin hatchet-men Curt and Marc slash through their songs with punked-out blues riffs that are short, quick, and to the point. Marc delivers hammed-up dementia by ranting, screaming, shouting and wailing with an Elvis-like tremor and a Jon Spencer-ish shuck and jive. The badly distorted guitars and bass are matched by a set of drums that are beaten mercilessly, yet loved. It's a raucous that pushes the levels incessantly into the red. Lollipop are obnoxious and spastic, a loose cannon who lips off and has the muscle to back it up. This is AmRep's answer to the Blues Explosion, and whether they intended it or not, Lollipop is right on target. (AmRep) - Steven M. Brydges

Lollipop Dog Piss on Dog CD
Post-Garage? Assuredly Lollipop have a fondness for the Estrus stable, the primal ethos of late 60s Texas punk rock bands like Mouse and the Traps - but obviously throwing out the psychedelia of the Seeds in favor of the raw sex put forth by the Stooges, Sonics and even the Scientists. Lollipop don’t rely on the conventions of garage they just stand up proudly and spit at you while their snotty little songs strike like a matchstick’s first spark. (Amphetamine Reptile 2645 First Ave. S. Minneapolis, MN 55408)

Lollipop Sucked In, Blown Out CD
Like a persistent headache, Lollipop songs grate and annoy; remaining with you for hours on end until an antidote is handed over. Garage rock. Sixties punk-fueled post-Anarchy-is-cool punk rock. Persistent. Rock songs that blare from the cassette deck in the GTO’s dashboard unlike any of the AM stations’ fare. While avoiding some of the cliché retro flavors, Lollipop burst out of the skronk gate and head for tube amp festival at a fast gate, running over fans and guitar-techs en route to the beer-stained plywood stage at the back of the bar. Lollipop screech like tires. That sound you hear from a distant neighborhood as the teens race one another in vintage muscle. Leaving behind that annoying, yet erotic, smell of burnt rubber in the air. (Amphetamine Reptile 2645 1st Ave. S. Minneapolis, MN 55408)

LoMacchio, Tom Five Years Later CD
Tom's life changed forever recently, and the rule states that brilliance stems from artists' pain. Five Years Later is therefore, yet another of example of lemonade made from lemons. The emotion of Tom's acoustic guitar rivals that of his lyrical forays (however few) which seems counter-intuitive from our prescribed definitions of the singer/songwriter. One can imagine Tom picking the hollow frame aside stream beds in overgrown forests, and living rooms as well. It's as if the guitar (and piano) is part of him and wherever he decides to draft a new piece of music, both physically and emotionally, the strings, neck and head are his own. At first blush, Tom's fret-breath will sound familiar to those enthralled by Mark Kozelek's (Red House Painters) guitar writing, while Five Years Later stops short of RHP's melodrama. Recorded by Trevor hollAnd and Archie Moore (Velocity Girl, Heartworms) with cello by Amy Domingues (Telegraph Melts), Five Years Later is likely to change your life forever as well. (Linkwork POB 186 Oceanside, NY 11572) – Keith York

Lonas s/t CD
Sad, lonely bedroom pop played through the mouth of a lo-fi winter. If Mother Nature dealt a northeastern blizzard Lonas tunes would come from basement practice spaces… Coffee shops and bowling alleys, not to mention public schools, would close up and kids with guitars and 4-tracks would be homebound for months to produce their dreams in song form. Taking cues from Tipili, A-Set , and even the Mountain Goats and Smog, Lonas will charm your thawing wet socks off. (Band: 162 5th St. #3 Cambridge, MA 02141, lonas@space.com) – Keith York

Lonesome Organist Collector of Cactus Echo Bags CD
Enter an elevator of a 1940’s department store. Whipping up and down floors at nauseating speeds, yr fears of height and clipped elevator cables assuaged by the futuristic muzakings of alien replicons piped in from beyond the moon. As the elevator doors open on different floors, eyes and ears are treated to the sights and sounds of different eras, scenes, music and cultures. It is a whirlwind tour of our American Heritage, courtesy of the Lonesome Organist, a one-man musical juggernaut. Cultures, mores, values, norms, etc., stirred in a pot, then separated and spread upon a dry, saltine cracker. Get a taste. Savor it. Now spit it out. Cleanse yr palette with lemon and water. That’s a good listener. Here, have another. How’s about a sampling of Little Italy. “Graci!” You wish to tap yr fingers to a funeral march? “Of course.” A carnival? “Step right up!” Barmitsvah, Spaghetti Western, rodeo? “Oi vey, ya’ll.” Island ferries touring harbors in the 1920’s? 1950s’ game shows? A Comet-launching Bill Haley? Chiming clocks? Bustling docks, where seasoned sailors board woman wearing flowing frocks? WWII refugees hiding in Berlin, moonlighting as female German cabaret singers? Toy Story 2: To Wonderland and Beyond! Rock songs filtered through swirling carnival organs? It’s all here! Come one, come all! Come see our showman, walking the tightrope highwire gateway to a party near you. Experience the thrill of watching him work a guitar while balancing an organ on his lampshade headdress, and simultaneously blowing into a melodica. All this and more without a net. (Thrill Jockey PO Box 476794 Chicago, IL 60647 or traverse@mcs.net) - Steven M. Brydges

Long Fin Killie Amelia CD
Fireplace warmth. The comfort of quiet spaces surrounding the emanating warmth of the family hearth. Amelia brings candle light-flicker warmth to any room, however crowded or noisy it may be. Tension. Walk the streets of Manhattan with Amelia on your headset and watch the subway tunnel grow forested. The streets inhabited by taxis, junkies, dark blue suit wearing businessmen and prostitutes become an uninhabited isle in the South Pacific. Passion. Guitars strum, drum 'n' bass kit-forays draw lines in sandy dunes as coastal vocal breezes erase the temporary linguistics of your fingers in favor of nature's strength and power. Tension. Human fragility is pedestalled inside Amelia. After all, the Earhart curiosities still abound decades later. As one seeks to answer the mysteries, the questions of life, it is sequences of musical composition like Amelia that make the path much more bearable and tranquil. Passion. However frenzied life can be, Long Fin Killie can be your searchlight, your guide along rugged terrain, your lifelong companion. Inimitable. (Too Pure PO Box 1944 London NW10 5PJ) - Keith York

Loop Guru Loop Bites Dog CD
This quintet of Brits with a fondness for Eastern sounds, timbres and philosophies have embraced techno culture for a few years now marketing themselves as the organic second cousin to the Orb. Tired of the ebb and flow trend of bands immersing themselves in all things culturally “Eastern” (read: Polvo, Psychic TV, Vegan hardcore bands ad infinitum) in an attempt to create some mysticism, I still found merit in Loop Bites Dog. I honestly wish to god I had never witnessed the magazine still photographs of these circus act fashion victims, but the beats themselves create a warmth others wish to create. Still trying to figure out why most of these songs take five folks to create, I listened repeatedly with image of a shaved-head teen Brit with an EPS sampler and a 16-track mixer on his Mac creating this stuff. And with this I appreciated its flow. Listener re-interpretation of music is at the heart of the subjective critique we writers draw our breath from. (World Domination 3575 Cahuenga Blvd. West Suite 450 Los Angeles, CA 90068)

Lord High Fixers When the Revolution Comes CD
When one cannot tell whether a song is an original or a cover, and, furthermore, isn’t moved to care, a problem exists. Completely derivative blues wankery, which, in today’s terms, is being redundant. Originals that sound like covers, covers that don’t serve justice to the originals. Purpose, please?!?! Purportedly members of the Young Lions Conspiracy, the only connivance here is by those who have conspired to take yr money at the register. Instead, I suggest you fill yr plate with the sweet, sonic growl of Cash Money that is true to the rock and the soul. (AuGoGo (via Autotonic) PO Box 542d Melbourne, VIC 3001 Australia). Steven M. Brydges

Lord, Mary Lou Got No Shadow CD
This voice, her voice, rests inside each of my thoughts. Sometimes I glance to my side thinking she is nestled on the couch in my house again, smiling. If I stand still long enough I can trace her figure in the still air. Like ghosts, people of our past stand in the shadows occasionally coming to the forefront of our thoughts shaken from the mind's dusty closets and storage areas. I can see her as Mary Lou Lord sings. Her hair cascaded across pale shoulders. Her laugh shakes me. Eyes that push me down. She is, it seems, standing right in front of me as I type this. She is these words on the computer screen. Everything Ms. Lord speaks of, every note she strums brightens the light of the closeted memories of a woman I will never embrace again. Mary Lou's voice is her voice singing to me, whispering in my ear as heavy eyelids embark on a night of slumber. Soft, tender guitar string strums are her light fingertip touches on my forearm. Each time I get lost in my memories of her Got No Shadow comforts me; a surrogate for my lovelorn afternoons. (Work Group 2100 Colorado Avenue Santa Monica, CA 90404) - Keith York

Lord Runningclam Fun for The Whole Family CD
Calming, soothing analog and digital signals processed for the human ear in an attempt to relax one’s tired muscles and soothe the aching brow after a 10-hour workday. Fun for The Whole Family, isn’t quite fun, nor for the whole family, but rather its point is to reach beyond the electronic aficionados, the ambient chillers, to new demographic profiles. Dave de Laski’s former stint with Electric Skychurch adds context to the sound here, one of chilling textures and warming tones vying for the P.A.’s attention - the attention beyond those that live in the virtual world created inside a set of headphones. Texturally rich, melodically askew, and dependent on a variety of break styles, Fun for The Whole Family has a little something for everyone. (Moonshine 8525 Santa Monica Blvd, West Hollywood, CA 90069) - Keith York

Lost Man Natural Disaster 7”
Each song very different. None of them matching the artwork. “Natural Disaster” did a non-pretentious garage riff repetitively but with less in common with the Cynics or Mono Men than with the Delgados or Yummy Fur. Very John Peel radio. The b-side yields a pair of sparkling tracks, one sounding like Archers of Loaf (possibly the power of suggestion from the catalog enclosure) while “Tuesday” I couldn’t pin down. Both strangle good riffs. The final track “Tuesday” got too close to the Orange County pop-punk vocal style with its Popeye references to burgers and paying one back on Tuesday...something I couldn’t stomach but the Fender Twin sound washing across the speakers was nice. (Kindercore PO Box 461 Athens, GA 30603)

Lotion s/t CD
I suppose it would be egregiously lazy for me to say "they remind me of REM" but that's where my head is at. I don't come to this CD with preconceived notions of limiting its value by likening it to the world famous guitar pop institution, but unlike Blur and Radiohead the exceptions to the (definitions of rock) rules are rare in '98. Lotion, like the Feelies, dream with guitar strings and talk in 4/4 rhythms. You drink beer in cans as they serve hors d'oeuvres chatting about the gallery you want to open with your friend the "artist" and their friend "the designer." The little hot dogs stabbed with toothpicks stray from the cosmopolitan conversation, reminding you how thinly-veiled poprock art is anymore. In an era of digital audio streaming from computer peripheral speakers, and a healthy economy, we as consumers demand more from our "rock" and Lotion is just short in delivering a sound reminiscent of Atlanta, GA's stalwart politicians. (SpinArt PO Box 1798 NYC, NY 10156) - Keith York

Love American Style Undo CD
About six years ago I purchased a couple of Smashing Orange singles on Ringers Lactate that still make it to my turntable now and again. At some point I lost track of the ameri-shoegazer combo and failed to lose much sleep over the predicament. Here in ‘97 I find Love American Style is a former member of the band whose two 7”s worth of songs still have meaning. Some of the songs on Undo are nice to fill my living room with on the rare cloudy days here in San Diego but today they became the soundtrack to a realization. After putting this CD in the tray, the phone rang. Having enough time to hit PLAY I ran to the phone call. For the next hour I was told how alienating I can be living a hermetic existence surrounded by the stereo blare and computer monitor glare. Glowing. I stretched, standing on my toes a few times during the lengthy discussion of my personality’s effect on those that consider themselves my friends. The music chugged along its route. Friends talking about friendships began to argue about relationships. The music ebbed. The phone was set down, I sat back down. I haven’t a clue as to what transpired this afternoon. Assuredly it will return to haunt me in the days to come. (Oxygen 18 East 53rd St. 11th Floor NYC 10022)

Low Secret Name CD
Pacing is everything in Low's world: Walking repeatedly through the small paths pondering their next move; Tempos that must illustrate the song's purpose or statement. Taking command of every moment they have available to them and stretching it as wide as possible, Low fill every inch of our being (in both time and spatial measurement) with accomplishment and consequence. Listeners of Low are likely devotees of stripped down slow-mo rock (i.e. Labradford, Spiny Anteaters, Idaho, Galaxie 500), but as people they may hold a unique personality quirk or characteristic yet to be fully realized. The ability to "smell the coffee" or "smell the roses" is in itself a skill that can be adopted and thrown overboard as if it were refuse. Sitting still in the moment of a Low-penned song is the closest thing to stopping the world around us – and knowing that a guitar, a bass, a drum & cymbal and a few piano and string lines can create such an enormous task is truly something to behold. Pacing is key to life and Low are leading by example. (Kranky POB 578743 Chicago, IL 60657) – Keith York

Low Songs for a Dead Pilot CD
When extreme cold weather isn’t shaking your tired bones awake it is likely to be wearing you down. Frigid, trying to keep warm you lose yourself in maintaining body temperature - a basic physiological premise of warm blooded animals. Low exhale a lover’s hot breath on your neck. You bundle up in layers of wool and gortex in an attempt to impede the forces of the skies outside the igloo dwelling. Wouldn’t it be easier to stay inside alone? Low are chilling. The sinister stare of a razor sharp icicle losing its grip on the overhang only to crash down upon an unsuspecting passerby with potentially frightful consequences. Low are suspenseful. Cars move across the snowblanketed streets sliding into one another on occasion, their drivers driven to un-neighborly gestures pounded upon the hoods of their cars. Low calmly anger you with their suspicious melancholy. Snow angels on playgrounds create postcard moments of childhood abandon and optimism. Low tickle your ribs. Both live and recorded, this trio exercise a fanciful wit upon the unsuspecting, unprepared listener - an inside joke all Low fans understand completely. To overcome the fear of the cold you have to embrace it, engage it, toss it around in your bare palms before you pack it tightly and loft it at your playmates. (Kranky PO Box 578743 Chicago, IL 60657)

Low Things we Lost in the Fire CD
Inhale to full lung capacity and plug your ears with stiffened index fingers. One can hear their own heart beat sitting relaxed in a room illuminated only by the stereo display. Sitting in solitude such as this, the introvert can imagine a house fire that would remove all tangibles from their environment leaving them again in solitude with little more than the clothing on their weakened frame. As the fire crews leave and neighborhood kids kick soccer balls across the ashes of their newfound empty lot, the first floor ofyour former lifestyle is another’s playground. Mimi’s snare & cymbal tempos remind the distraught and their insurance salesperson that rain is on the horizon. And they are stuck without shelter. As the fire engines and police cars leave the stranded to stand in the rubble of their desert island the still functioning stereo plugged into a wall-less socket is the only companion. Somehow, miraculously, Low’s latest 13-chapter statement comes alive as the CD player kept is safe from fierce flame and high-pressure water hoses. Sitting on the blackened cement slab amidst dripping timbers, hearing your heart beat in blood pumped to your ear drums may be the only comfort in the future. (Kranky POB 578743 Chicago, IL 60657) – Keith York

Low Numbers Telekom/Josef Albers 7"
Quiet, cat-like steps taken on roofs and fence posts steer one toward the prey. Jumping from behind sensitive sadness, the Low Numbers startle you. Flapping your wings like a helpless snack for the predator's addictive pop delivery, you succumb. (WPTS/Numeric 411 William Pitt Union Pittsburgh, PA 15260) - Keith York

LSP Spacebar CD
Joel ‘Al Mind’ Vaughn (a.k.a. LSP) returns with a new collection of abstract electronic entrees to nibble on for those hungering for more of the year-old Antidote record. From hip-hop to twisted breakbeat journeys, LSP’s guest microphone poets (Jiggalo, Xpresso, Stric 9, Bloody Mary, Dragon, Persia, RAW, China and more) set the tone. Whether freestyled or rehearsed, Al Mind’s and others’ rapster hijinks make the DJ-set electronica mutate into pure mayhem. Delicious… “Waiter, a second round please…oh, Xpresso has an entrée available too? Serve it up…” (Journees POB 2531 Cupertino, CA 95015) – Keith York

LTJ Bukem Demon’s Theme/A Couple of Beats 12”
Rumor had it about town that Tower Records put a bunch of Good Looking/Looking Good 12”s on sale at one of their stores and I was there within 30 minutes - I picked up a few things on LTJ Bukem’s own imprint. Here, the man behind the mixing and releasing put a couple tracks down with female vocals popping in and out of the mix. On Demon’s Theme we start with a tribal drum roll that never refuses to give in to increasingly tired dancing feet. When it does end, the woman’s “yeah yeah yeeaaaahhhs” kick a nice “amen” break into life and we roll along with that for some time. Once again the more tribal (near Nico sounding) drums return toward a couple fantastic, though subtle, snare roll breaks and the beat drops for some down time only to close with the “amen” snares once again. A Couple of Beats literally heads into the jungle with some sampled birdcall sound patches and pointed thumping bass notes. The “yeah yeahs” turn into “wooaahh woahs” while the bass keeps shouting out. Very nice danceable jungle - which many have identified as LTJ Bukem’s style. (Good Looking Records Clarendon House, 125 Shenley Road Borehamwood, HERTS WD6 1AG UK)

Luck of Aleia Six Songs CD
It's hard to believe how much a band can get across in a half-dozen artifacts of their song writing work. After sweaty practice sessions, conversations hours later over coffee about the recent batch of songs, and then performing the output in front of an audience of onlookers and listeners, this mini-album is the end-product. Distilling the live energy of their high-energy 4/4 metabolism, Luck of Aleia have posted a sensational drawing on the proverbial refrigerator door for all of us to witness. Born of a melodic punk rock lineage, Luck of Aleia have already outwardly extended yearning hands for the kids to join in. Captivating, seductive punk rock for all ages. (Caulfield POB 84323 Lincoln, NE 68501) – Keith York

Lunatic Calm Roll The Dice CD-Single
Busting with post-industrial dancefloor energy, these three remixes borrow from the likes of Fatboy Slim and Chemical Brothers’ hardened kickboxing-match fury. Roll The Dice’s pace is quick, numbing in its straight delivery. One mix by ex-Housemartin himself, Fatboy Slim. (MCA UK)

Lung Leg Made to Minx CD
Four Glaswegian kindred spirits, to Calvin Johnson's K Records aesthetic visions and pimply-faced lo-fi marketing statements, have cut a record worthy of your attention. Like We Ragazzi's new-wave charm, Lung Leg borrow from early-80s power-pop lyrically and musically. What we get is an alert, confident break from the status quo -- I just hope they, like Bis, run with it. (Southern PO Box 577375 Chicago, IL 60657) - Keith York

Lusk Free Mars CD
Startling. A surprise when the sun awakens your tired eyes around noon and half your day is gone. Heart beating rapidly, you step from your loft seeking coffee and the phone to call in late for work. Three hours late and you still haven’t showered and caffeinated your digestive track. You move slow across the cold, hard wood floors - your socks allowing a few slides and slips along the route to the refrigerator. Still half asleep you think you hear His Name is Alive on the stereo, though you don’t remember putting anything on and you live alone... Lusk in CD player turned itself on to deliver you a new meaning to your day. Like a Christmas gift in July, you are startled. Shaken by the elegance, you drop on the floor at the midpoint between each speaker’s delivery knowing you are going to be at least another hour late for work. You may as well call in sick since this CD is going to be on repeat whether you make the decision or not. (Volcano 71 West 23rd St. NYC 10010)

Lustre King The Money Shot 12”
Tension and release like there was no answers to any of the questions you asked as a teenage. Strung out on a lack of information I put this on after a long draining afternoon bike ride and it woke my tired muscles out of the near-coma state they lay in. Like an instrumental Shellac, Lustre King squirm with tense bass antics and a tight drum kit pilot while the ringing amps create a room full of unanswered questions. I could smell the Empty Bottle in my living space. Thanking the label for putting this out on the best music format known to man, the 12”, I welcomed this like an old friend. We spent time together laughing and punching one another in that playful way men do - Lustre King filled an appetite set a diet on a new course and played a significant role in Chicago Tourism marketing. Tension and release, tense then released of the that strangling nervous feeling that stress tension creates. The Money Shot is... (Divot PO Box 14061 Chicago, IL 60614)