SOUND BITES

When a band you love starts to wear out their welcome, it's a sad thing. Take Weezer, who've released an album that's raking in more pity than positivity. As disheartening as it is, sometimes your favourite bands... well, for lack of better terms, go bad . And, it almost happened to Sloan. When A-Sides Win , their 2005 best-of was released, it couldn't have come at a better time. Sloan hadn't released a great effort in seven years, with three passable-to-mediocre albums in a row ( Between the Bridges, Pretty Together and Action Pact ) threatening to thrust them headlong into the dump bins of our hearts. Sure, those albums weren't outright bad, but they just lacked something. Soul, drive, determination. Maybe they knew it, maybe they didn't, but on record the band didn't really seem fully into it anymore. It happens to the best of us. That best-of seemed to reignite their creativity, resulting in the staggering 30-song set Never Hear the End of It

It's one of the worst kept secrets in rock history, this band is. But, if you really and truly don't know, Foxboro Hot Tubs are Green Day. Can we just get that out of the way and move on to the music, people? Stop Drop and Roll!!! comes as an expanded version of the 6-track EP given away on the net last December. These tracks serve as "Side A" of this album, except here the obscure sound bites are absent (they were rather annoying before every track, but I kind of miss the count in followed by "You're doing it fucking wrong!" at the beginning of Highway 1 ). Now, another of rock's worst kept secrets has, for quite some time, been Green Day's love of sixties rock music. One of their first recordings was a cover of The Who's My Generation . They later gave a faithful rendition of the Kinks' Tired of Waiting for You . It shouldn't come as a shock, then, that these two bands are paid highest respects on this, a sixties inspired e

If I had a time machine, I'd transport back to 2004. Seems kind of an odd choice, I know; the world wasn't really all that different four years ago. George Bush was fucking the world over, gas prices were high, and the music industry was dying. One would think that, given the luxury of time traveling, a more important time would be at the top of the list. There have been, after all, many moments in history that would be truly awesome to relive (my birth) or experience for the first time (what happened after I blacked out from chugging all that Hermits wine). But, no; I stick with 2004. That way, I can look back on Nine Inch Nails' discography and, more specifically, Trent Reznor's torrid pace of one studio album every five years. Throw in all of the singles, remix albums, live sets, videos, etc., and at the end of 2004 we were given a grand total of seventeen "halos" in fifteen years. If I had a time machine, I could go back to 2004, tell you that not

As hard as it may be to believe considering what usually gets covered here, I'm actually a pretty big MSI fan. Call it my guilty pleasure; my favourite band might be Pearl Jam and I may gravitate toward more organic rock and metal, but sometimes it's necessary to step outside the comfort zone, so to speak. Back in 1999, while working in radio, I discovered MSI via "Bitches", which was an absurd attempt by Warner Music to earn the crass, far from mainstream band radio play. Nevertheless, I listened to the track and wasn't all that impressed... until a few days later, when I couldn't get that song out of my head with a crowbar. After picking up the 30 track rapid-fire masterpiece "Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy", I found myself oddly enamored with the spastic techno-metal stylings and utter lunacy of Little Jimmy Urine's lyrics and vocal delivery. At the time, I didn't even understand what the hell I was listening to; I just li

Being in cahoots with the Alexisonfire camp has the tendency of making me not give a shit about your band. No offense to AOF or the kids who love them, screamo just isn't my bag. Which is why I was surprised by the Cancer Bats' debut, "Birthing the Giant". I avoided it for months, expecting it to be a clone of Alexisonfire's uninteresting At the Drive-In worship or, worse, a clone of Dallas Green's wretch-inducing sentimentalism. Finally, "French Immersion" made its way to my ears, a roaring hardcore throwback worthy of whiplash by headbanging. I was almost as astonished by that track's ferocity as I was by the fact that the rest of the album was just as good. Of course, there's bound to be changes on album two. Thankfully, they're not so drastic as to completely alter your opinions on the band. Sure, there's a little more metallic screaming (see the title track), and a few more actual hooks (see "Deathsmarch"). And,

THE RACONTEURS Consolers of the Lonely "Consolers of the Lonely" is pretty much an extension of last year's White Stripes triumph "Icky Thump"; also recorded in Nashville, all very loose sounding and fun. It's also notice served that what was kind of cool in the White Stripes' intimate setting absolutely shreds with the backing of a full band. Lyrically, there may not be any tracks as poetic as, say, 'You Don't Know What Love Is'. But, when the monster riffs of 'Five on the Five' and 'Attention' smack you in the skull, there simply isn't much need for fancy wordplay. There's also much more stretching out to be heard, as a veritable smorgasbord of instruments get their due (including fiddles, banjos, horns, etc.). Throw in a good old fashioned murder ballad (album closer 'Carolina Drama'), a swampy country stomper ('Old Enough'), an obscure seventies rock cover ('Rich Kid Blues') and the fr