THE SONICS
This Is... the Savage Young Sonics
(Norton)
***

Just when you thought them Northwest archival shelves was gettin' barer than a newborn's BEE-hind, Norton sprang us a collection of Sonics home and live recordings spanning roughly their first three "We (heart) the Wailers" years! Yep, alla these tracks PREfuggin'DATE their seminal, violent Etiquette recordings! We get to hear the early lineup's instrumental/teen dance-band beginnings, before they went CRAZY with poundin' R&B... and their amps' volume knobs! And I bet you'd figger, "Cool enough, just for the music!" WELL, the liner notes are penned by the Sonics' guitarist "Mister" LARRY PARYPA his own damn self, and punctuated by snapshots of the Sonics posed (do I ever DIG them WHITE socks!!!) and in action!!! Best of all... Larry's dad taped nearly EVERY show... more Sonics may be on the way!? MIKE NIPPER

THE GODDAMN GENTLEMEN
Sex-Caliber Horsepower
(Upper Cut)
***

A good mod band coming out of Portland, OR? That idea disappeared when the Goddamn Gentlemen decided to sing about sex and alcohol. Sex-Caliber Horsepower has all the musical elements of booty-shaking, boot-stomping '60s garage rawk, especially Jason Fleming's Farisa organ-work on songs like "Dance, Shout and Holler" and "Alcotraz." The only thing stopping the Goddamn Gentlemen from becoming a full-fledged mod revival band is the absence of Steve Marriott's or Reg King's soulful R&B vocals. Instead, lead singer Mark Gastar spent his time studying the stylings of the Rev. Spencer Moody, and uses them to his full advantage on songs like "Murder Man" and "Shark Attack." Those of you burning with anticipation for a real mod revival out here are going to have to wait. And look on the bright side: We may have lost the Murder City Devils (at least in name), but we've gained their little brothers in the Goddamn Gentlemen--and isn't that enough for now? BRYAN BINGOLD

CORMEGA
The Realness
(Landspeed Records)
***1/2

Queensbridge's Cormega drops his first commercial release, The Realness, after years of label woes and mix-tape fame. Cormega raps extensively about his time incarcerated, his years of crack dealing, and his ghetto fame with vigorous bravado: "Come through the hood with ill whips/the realness/who you think you deal with?/I don't fear shit nigga." These rather typical rap experiences are treated from a variety of different angles. While some moments glorify these experiences, others detail their victims: those deceased and those impaired, as well as the changes Cormega himself has experienced along the way. He expresses jaded pragmatism ("Now I deal with a few/I don't fuck with niggas/It's not arrogance, it's I'm-not-havin'-it...."), empathy for those locked up ("I know at times it gets hard/behind penitentiary bars/once free you realize you're mentally scarred...."), and mourning for those killed. Cormega never gets too close to any one subject but rather shifts between them, avoiding reconciliations and conclusions. Ambivalence pervades this emotionally complex album, and the typical imaginings of a "thug" are exceeded. RAPHAEL GINSBERG

TRIANGLE
*
(File 13)
**

Some people can get away with using words like "angular" to describe music. I've sat through explanations, and I still have no idea how to draw a line between the ideas I've been handed and truly incorporate the word into my musical lexicon--at least not without feeling either totally pretentious or like a college geometry teacher. The words I will use to describe Minneapolis boy-girl duo Triangle are "quirky" and "promising." Simultaneously organic and robotic, Triangle mixes geekish guitar-pop with bouncy synthesized techno swirls and groovy beats. What throws me off is the porno-riffic funk that Triangle manages to fuse surprisingly well against its tag-team vocals and polished laptop pop. At its best, Triangle is rousing and confident ("Political Song"), with bumping bass lines, head-jerking guitar bites, and a slew of textural treats like conga drums and hand claps. At other (less flattering) moments the band sounds like a self-conscious pastiche of Human League, Devo, Rick James, and Land of the Loops. Which could be exciting, but, in the case of Triangle, the effect just comes off sounding sort of... angular. CORIANTON HALE

VARIOUS ARTISTS
State of the Union 2.001
(EMFmedia)
***

It's an unwritten rule that successful avant musicians help their obscure (and probably hungry) comrades. Elliott Sharp, co-mastermind behind last summer's Volume: Bed of Sound exhibit at the Henry, has done good and compiled a nifty, budget-priced three-CD set of short snippets by 171 known and unknown sound artists. Designed for shuffle mode, State of the Union 2.001 explores the undertow of today's adventurous music, from lowercase sound and harsh noise to witty word haiku and plunderphonic collage. Organized alphabetically, cult heroes Merzbow, Z'ev, Fred Frith, Koji Asano, Alan Licht, and Ikue Mori abut lesser-known lights such as Annie Gosfield, Frank Rothkamm, Elio Martusciello, and Vivian Sisters. Regrettably, slivers of rock and pop creep in as well. Just like rock musicians who "go experimental" and end up feebly re-creating what John Cage & Co. did 30 years ago, a few of State's musicians have stumbled down the same path. For crackling chicken-scratch guitar and booty-bompin' bass, dig out those Chic records, or exhume those interstitial grooves in Earth, Wind & Fire's Gratitude. Despite that piddling reservation, State is a fine introduction to the sonic saboteurs of today, and handy for filling up mix tapes (and CDs) with intriguing, off-kilter moments. CHRISTOPHER DeLAURENTI