****
In preparation for their upcoming full-length skull smasher on Sub Pop, Detroit cult noise constructionists Wolf Eyes have given the label a little taste of sonic blasphemy, an audio ice pick between the eyes, if you will. The single "Stabbed in the Face" references the usual trinity, incorporated by the group over the years, of murderous hardcore, metal, and industrial sounds, but patterns emerge from the madness of robotic screams and Satanic roars--rhythms pulse like wounds oozing all their sick inner contents. Side one erects a skyscraper-sized seething cyberdemon of sound, one that vomits garbled demands while torturing smaller devices into screaming shrill sound bites. It's an overwhelmingly painful interaction from the sound of things, with drill bits and car-crushing claws mangling everything in sight. Side two, "Rat Floods" and "Stabbed (instrumental)," are what I like to imagine as the aftermath, when winds travel through hollow tunnels and mechanical gulls chirp inside sewers where slimy underwater creatures tread. All in all, Wolf Eyes' music conjures a vision even a violent, tech-noir revision of Tron couldn't hit this darkly--or this well. JENNIFER MAERZ

YOUNG HEART ATTACK

Mouthful of Love

(XL/Beggars)

****
Ain't no flies on Young Heart Attack. The dudes in the Austin, Texas action-rock sextet were astute enough to recognize--like Bad Wizard and the Cherry Valence before them--that chicks make everything sound better. Hence the addition of co-vocalist Jennifer Stephens, who brings the melody, hooks, and looks to an otherwise unruly gaggle of boogie-rock bloozers whose fascination with the MC5 (they cover "Over and Over"), '70s superchargers, and Mary Jane references would be totally brown if it weren't so fucking catchy. You could call it "AC/DC meets the Donnas" but that's a bit like saying Elvis meets Lisa Marie, innit? Mouthful of Love is more like an alternate soundtrack to Dazed and Confused, from "Starlite" (the hottest jam on the record, with an intro nicked from the Who's "Baba O'Riley") to the Stonesy jangle of "(Take Me Back) Mary Jane" (the best tune Jet never wrote) to the unmitigated rock triumph of "Misty Rowe" (the tightest Joan Jett song, like, ever). Young Heart Attack has arrived, so open up and say "aah," or whatever. J. BENNETT

TWILIGHT CIRCUS DUB SOUND SYSTEM

Dub from the Secret Vaults

****

(ROIR)
Like King Tubby and Mad Professor, Ryan Moore (the man behind Twilight Circus Dub Sound System) built his own studio. He is as much a sound engineer as he is a musician, and plays all of the instruments on his dubs, which he has been making since 1995. Though presently based in the Netherlands, Moore was raised in Vancouver, BC, and was once a member of the Legendary Pink Dots and the Tear Garden (a group that included Skinny Puppy's cEvin Key). Of the 10 dub CDs he has released over the years, none are bad; they rate from good to very good. His latest, a collection of dubs from his "secret vaults" (recently reconfigured dubs that haven't been heard from "outside the secret dub laboratory"), is very good. Like his other dubs, each track is filled beyond the brim and they aren't distorted so much by echoes but a density of live and electronic sounds, floating debris of space dust, and circus-like organs. The bottom of most of these dubs is exploded by his beloved depth charges--one-drops that are released into the core of the mix and detonated. This record is dangerous; it's not for amateurs. CHARLES MUDEDE

STEPHEN DUFFY & THE LILAC TIME

Keep Going

(Fulfill Records)

**
To many he is remembered as Stephen "Tin Tin" Duffy (for his band Tin Tin), but he might better be known as the guy who, like so many bitter others, left a band before it became huge. (In Duffy's case, it was Duran Duran, for whom he was the original singer.) Instead a different band, the Lilac Time, appeared next to his name as often as it didn't. This time out, Duffy's full Lilac outfit appears on Keep Going, but it's a boring album that could have been less so if someone like the Wedding Present's giddy David Gedge were singing such arm-unfurling love songs. The record doesn't suck, it just irritates like a sweater that's made of a blend that's more wool than cashmere--know what I mean? There's some richness that feels soft and smooth ("The Twelve Tones") but then there's that slight, disappointing scritch ("Keep Going") as well as the constantly jarring harmonica and pedal steel as Duffy (unsuccessfully) goes alt-country most of the time. KATHLEEN WILSON

**** orgasm *** sneeze ** itch * drool