PINEHURST KIDS
Bleed It Dry
(Barbaric)
***

Pinehurst Kids surpass the bulk of their contemporaries in the easy-sounding power pop genre by way of passion, energy, and, most importantly, talent. While many bands with a few big power chords and rock-star ambition are making crap records and getting paid for it, Pinehurst Kids are playing big the way one wants to hear it. On the new record, Bleed It Dry, very few of the songs sound patently derivative, and standouts abound: like "The Onceler," almost a power pop waltz, with the anthemic chorus, "I won't stop you now/And you can break my fall," ambitiously shouted by talented frontman Joe Davis. Or "Planet of the Apes," a song that is at once big and goofy in its unselfconscious studio reverberation while simultaneously smart, undeniably fun, and consequently addictive. The song is followed up by "Deconstruct," a more dissonant, punkier track that showcases Davis' voice and the band's driving guitar sound. No new ground is being broken on this record, but real excitement and even taste are injected into Bleed It Dry to set Pinehurst Kids apart, making them one of the more exciting bands in their own often repetitive genre. JEFF DeROCHE

JON AUER
6 1/2
(Pattern 25)
**

With his fine, gentle voice, Jon Auer of the Posies makes his way through seven cover songs (some chosen aptly, some less wisely), all of which add up to an interesting "mini LP" worth about two or three listens. The record opens with Serge Gainsbourg's "Bonnie & Clyde," a simple, instrumental performance. Auer then moves on to the Chameleons' "Tears," the most rewarding song on the record, a well-delivered hook over a subtle, orchestral chorus, perfectly suited to Auer's abilities. Ween's "Baby Bitch," a song that gets old after about five listens in its original Ween-recorded form, feels plain old performed here. The Psychedelic Furs' "Love My Way" provides instant, happy recognition of a great, exciting song--again, better as an original. Madonna's "Beautiful Stranger," delivered without a hint of irony, is frankly ruined by a breathy Auer venturing into a realm of pop music wherein he is obviously not at ease. No new life is given to Hüsker Dü's "Green Eyes," and lastly, Auer's version of Swervedriver's "These Times" lacks investment and depth, consistent with the rest of the record. In deference, Jon Auer is a talented man, and cover albums are often ill-advised and always tricky to pull off. JEFF DeROCHE

VIC CHESNUTT
Left to His Own Devices
(SpinArt Records)
***1/2

Vic Chesnutt, Georgia's favorite left-field singer/songwriter, returns to the stripped-down music that established him, with his latest, Left to His Own Devices. Producing and recording the 15 songs himself on four-track and Mac ProTools, Chesnutt delivers some of his most satisfying songs in years. He plays all the instruments, with the exception of the few handled by his wife, Tina. The intimacy and immediacy of the songs are not as discomfiting as they were on last year's collaborative album Merriment with Mr. and Mrs. Keneipp. The twisted cabaret of that album played loosely with tragicomic mannerisms and perverse scenarios. The burlesque is gone on Left to His Own Devices, and sad, whispery ruminations creep forward in Chesnutt's Southern cadence. The lyrics offer his trademark descriptive pileups and existential wrestling, but it's a murmuring, late-night armchair monologue rather than a strangled cry. The delicious strummer "Wounded Prince" is a short stab through the fog, with Chesnutt berating a child of privilege in the verses, sugaring a bit before the throat-punching refrain, "Your mother's being poked/By some bloke in the Bahamas." He throws the line away, not leaning into its viciousness. He doesn't have to: As he shows across the album, life's facts are mean enough. NATE LIPPENS

WELLWATER CONSPIRACY
The Scroll and Its Combinations
(TVT)
***

Influences abound clearly within Wellwater Conspiracy, although not the ones you'd expect from a band consisting of former members of Soundgarden (Matt Cameron, who currently drums for Pearl Jam) and Monster Magnet (John McBain). Though the new disc features guest work from Eddie Vedder, Jack Endino, and Ben Shepherd, instead of the dud-colored melted-crayon collage that seemingly inspired Temple of the Dog, Wellwater Conspiracy draws upon upbeat psychedelia like that of the Who, Cream, and the Zombies for a sound that, though based in the gold old days of proud guitar-based rock, should prove inspiring in its own right. The Scroll and Its Combination is a lesson on how to mine the past and in the process provide inspiration for the future. KATHLEEN WILSON

ALEJANDRO ESCOVEDO
A Man Under the Influence
(Bloodshot Records)
***

Alejandro Escovedo has pedigree enough for three musicians. He was at ground zero for West Coast punk with the Nuns, a cowpunk progenitor in Rank and File, and a guitar-rock standard-bearer in True Believers and Buick MacKane. But his most accomplished music has been his powerful and elegant solo output. With his gritty, plain-spoken voice hinting at an open-throated hopefulness with a rue-limned lower register, Escovedos' singing takes the fore of his songs. It's an intimate, personal sound that is an amalgam of folk-blues and spectral balladry cycling through love, hurt, and redemption. He could be a distant Austin cousin of Joe Henry, taking the back roads and listening to a mix tape of Bob Willis and T. Rex. "There's heaven and then there's somewhere else," Escovedo croons on "Don't Need You," with a plaintive resignation that haunts all the houses and bedrooms he passes through, a man under the influence of love and the sad places it wanders. NATE LIPPENS

ROLLERBALL
Trail of the Butter Yeti
(Road Cone)
***1/2

On track eight of this album, "Earth 2 Wood," Mae Starr and Shane DeLeon sing determinedly as loosed spirits. Their voices are demonic and angelic at once, harmonizing in furrowed crescendos and belting mysteriously amid a gorgeous background of invasive piano and sax. It's a passionate sound. At the core of Portland's Rollerball is a propensity for eclecticism, and the fact that each track has its own distinct personality makes Trail of the Butter Yeti beautiful and unique, rather than muddled or misdirected. Though the record doesn't quite capture the unequaled phenomenon of the band's live performance, this album is filled with ambience and increase, eerie experimentalism, and gypsy jazz, all constructed (or deconstructed) brilliantly. JULIANNE SHEPHERD

COUCH
Profane
(Matador)
***1/2

I love everything about Couch, a fine instrumental band from Munich, Germany--the taut snap percussion of drummer Thomas Geltinger, Stefanie Böhm's warm, full keyboard sound, Michael Heilrath's driving, motivational bass lines, and Jürgen Söder's amiable guitar sound. I was especially taken by track two, "Alle Auf Pause." It sounds like an inspirational theme song to a victory. You know, like when Rocky won the fight against Creed. Or when Daryl Hannah goes back to the sea in the movie Splash. COUNTER COMMONS

SIGUR RÓS
Àgætis Byrjun
(Fat Cat/PIAS America)
***1/2

After two years, to include roughly one year of buzz and hype, Iceland's Sigur Rós is being released at a domestic price in the U.S. and is being made readily available, thanks to some help from PIAS America. The band's lauded, ethereal 1999 release, Àgætis Byrjun, is essential to the record collection of any shoegazer or pop enthusiast. Singer/guitarist Jon Thor Birgisson, who performs all the songs in the haunting Icelandic language (which sounds something like backward English), has a haunting, celestial falsetto. His mid-range is as pitch-perfect as Radiohead's Thom Yorke, and as luminous as fellow Icelander Björk's. The record is sensual and religious-sounding, designed to fill cathedrals with majestic sonic drones and dirges. The songs encapsulate, and, in places, improve upon the work of Sigur Rós' predecessors--bands like Cocteau Twins and Slowdive (to name these is, admittedly, to neglect a hearkening back to deeper roots like Pink Floyd)--in terms of warmth and modernity. One spin of this record and Radiohead begins to sound like a run-of-the-mill rock band. Indeed, with Sigur Rós, ethereal pop has evolved into something genuinely supernatural. JEFF DeROCHE

THE RAPTURE
Out of the Races and onto the Tracks
(Sub Pop)
*

Let me preface myself: I know nothing about this band. The editor simply handed me the product and barked, "Review!" (He never even bothered to see whom he'd given it to. Mmmmm-hmmmm.) Anyhoo, OOTRAOTT is all about late-'70s, tense, post-punk SOUND, um... kinda like Wire. However, the Rapture is not quite playing in that context, nor league, as the band's expression feels pointless and dull, like children trying ever so earnestly to "re-contextualize" dissonance. This, while over-using the now clichè soft-to-loud dynamics of '90s "emo." Now, the mix of dissonance and dynamics in this form SHOULD reinforce how loaded these songs are, with immediacy and SOMETHING intensely personal. But, where the Rapture fails, as with MOST contemporary "indie/emo," is that no matter how much one believes one is capable of emoting or expressing, if the sense is NOT conveyed in any way that effectively TRANSLATES the feeling, the expression is meaningless! How many records do we need to tell us this same damn thing? Turns out, at this point in the game, every song is NOT a revolution, and OOTRAOTT ain't ART. OOTRAOTT is POP. As this type of music, blind and redundant, chugs on, I wonder if "indie" has become ironic to the kids. Is it just funny now, which makes it "cool" again... or is OOTRAOTT another testimony of how deeply this shit should be buried? After all, it's dead. MIKE NIPPER