Old geezers, step back, and warm yourself in the glow known collectively as The Strokes. I am sure you have all heard the hype, but beware; with the coming of their first LP, Is This It, The Strokes have hopefully ushered in a new wave of Big Apple Rock Stars.

The album starts off on the title track with Fab Morreti's metronome-like pounding, and the rest of the band kicks in quite nicely. After some ringing arpeggios and gentle strumming, the bass suddenly kicks in, sending the listener reeling. The second song, "The Modern Age," invokes rock in its greatest form: loud guitars, muffled voices, and lots of subtlety. Yes, subtlety. Although Nikolas Fruiture, Albert Hammond, and Nick Valensi can blare away with the best of them, their sound is restrained with the help of their songwriter and lead singer, Julian Casablancas. His voice has a not-quite-distinct sound, evocative of the spirit of Lou Reed, fresh off of his Velvet Underground days. Casablancas has a way with melodies that is like no other. His lyrics, although they aren't always a standout feature, are always to the point ("Alone we stand/ Together we fall apart/ I think I'll be all right"). Almost all of the songs are about the singer's most tormenting muse: the ladies. He complains about their complaints in "Last Nite," expresses his uncertainties in "Someday," rants about tired relationships in "Is This it."

The album, although a little quick to finish (a solid eleven songs, only 33 minutes), is hearty with melodic structure. But that doesn't matter. The Strokes have an ATTITUDE, something that rock hasn't seen in its fresh faces for a while. All they want is to rock, get drunk, and party until the next show (a friend told me that a recent performance in St Louis was amazing, even though it seemed like none of the band were able to walk onto the stage).

The followup to last year's critical bitch has some roots in Radiohead's newly- found desolate electronic landscapes, namely the opening track on Amnesiac, entitled "Packt Like Sardines in a Crushed Tin Box." The band's front man, Thom Yorke, sounds like he's bored and fed up, which goes quite nicely with the chanted lyrics, "I'm a reasonable man, get off my case, get off my case, get off my case." All the while, a kettle drum and guitar farts keep up the beat.

There're three more tracks that could be called reminiscent of Kid A, namely because one of the songs, "Morning Bell," was on both Kid A as well as Amnesiac. The version is slightly different from the original, a live performance with jingly bells, and Thom's voice is considerably softer. All in all, the track sounds like a bad Portishead performance, but still it's enjoyable enough that you won't have to skip past it when it's in your CD player.

A song that most people will be skipping past is an annoying, distorted mess of a song dubbed "Pulk/Pull the Revolving Doors." While the song is there to help strengthen the "artistic message" of the band (forgetting who they are and covering old and new ground), the fact of the matter is that Radiohead may have gone a bit too far. If that's what they wanted, great, but it's still damn hard to sit through. Listen to it for yourself; I don't want to talk about it anymore…

Radiohead doesn't go back to just Kid A; they stomp back to their crazy good album, OK Computer, with tracks like the catchy, foot-stompin' "I Might Be Wrong" or the so-so "Dollars & Cents." One of their more refined tracks, "Knives Out," would've been considered a masterstroke back in the days of their first album, Pablo Honey, with its depressing guitars and lyrics about cannibalism: "He's bloated and frozen, still, there's no point in letting it go to waste.")

Finally, Radiohead takes up some new stomping ground that can be heard in most of the stand-out tracks on the album. There's no electronic gurgling here; the distorted vocals are skimpy at best, but the songs are whimsical and elegantly written. No other track sums up the direction that I would love to see Radiohead explore after this album more than "Life in a Glass House," which, tucked away as the last track of the album, caught me completely by surprise. If the band had lived during the 1930s, this is how they would sound: horns wail along with Thom, and when the music picks up, damn...it's all very nice to say the least. Two more songs were done in this fashion, but are just slightly below par compared to Life. The first runner-up is "Pyramid Song," starts out slow, with a few piano notes running alongside Thom's vocal, then builds up into something enraged and beautiful. The last track of this sort is "You and Whose Army?" This track is another trip back to the 1930s; Thom's voice sounds as if it's being played out of a broken gramophone. The track has a slow start, just like the previously mentioned two tracks, but eventually Thom's lonely voice is accompanied by the rest of the band and turns the song into a furious battle cry--"We ride tonight!" Oh, the places these guys can go.

All in all, the album is good, and could be considered a concept album if one notes all of the undertones of reincarnation and forgetfulness. This album made me realize why I appreciated Radiohead so much after Kid A: because they provide the mainstream music world with stuff that lots of people really don't want to hear. Amnesiac is packed full of experimentation, from the lyrics to the sounds to the ambience to even the track listing (it should be noted that, with all of these different songs, assembling the order must have been a bitch, for lack of a better word).

But enough of my incessant rambling--I'll leave you with this. Whether or not you've ever listened to Radiohead, I recommend that you go and pick up Amnesiac, not because it's a great album (it's just not as good as Kid A or OK Computer), but because it offers a taste of everything the band has and will accomplish, and there's a damn good chance you'll hear something that you'll like.

At 4.30pm I was about to die. I was on the verge of tears from happiness. This was because I was seeing a band which is my favorite and a singer who just happens to be my god. This is the collective known as The (International) Noise Conspiracy. (I)NC formed after the singer’s (Dennis Lyxzen) old band broke up (Refused, one of hardcore’s legendary acts.). So Dennis called guitarist Lars Stromberg of Separation and asked him if he was still up for an idea they’d discussed before--starting their own band. They then recruited 3 other members: Inge Johansson (bass, formerly of Female Anchor of Sade), Sara Almgren (organ/guitar, formerly of Doughnuts), and Ludwig Dahlberg (drums, formerly of SaidIwas).

(I)NC released their first full-length album in May 2000 (on Epitaph/Burning Heart Records), Survival Sickness. After touring Europe and their native Sweden they headed to the States, where I found out about them being in St. Louis the day before the show. I tried to talk my parents into letting me go to St. Louis, but it was a school night, and too short notice. I asked about going to Chicago on Friday since we didn’t have school--that was to far away, though. So I ended up annoying them enough to let them let me go on Sunday to nearby Lawrence. From then on I was, yes, stoked. I listened to them non-stop, and this included me being Dennis for Halloween (haha, ok let’s not spoil the fun)!

At doors, we went in and, since three bands played before them, I decided to go up and buy some merchandise (yes--from a band that hates capitalism). So I walked up to where the merchandise is being sold and, while I’m looking, Mr. Lyxzen came up, stood next to me and sat down (well ,it was his band’s stuff). I’m sort of going crazy inside: ‘Oh, my god, my idol is sitting right in front of me.’ Eventually, I mustered the nerve to talk to him about his solo album. He actually doesn’t have that bad a Swedish accent. Surprising.

That’s the before- the-show story, other than Ultimate Fakebook and Get Up Kids walking around and chatting.The opening bands were Syndicate (they sucked, ok politics, though), Ripped off Refused, AppleSEEDcast (Deep Elm Records band were nice and emo that night. I enjoyed the set), and The Impossibles (the other supposedly good band that night. They’re punky in a Weezer-Ozma way. The guys who made fun of me before the show had gone to to see them)

During the first song (it must’ve been “Reproduction of Death”), Dennis started saying/screaming, “Can I scream?” We all replied with a big “YES!.” They have a crazy punk stage show in which Dennis whips the microphone around and jumps everywhere, while the rest of the band rocks out. Inge is funny, though: he sings and does this head-bob thing. After the first or second song, Dennis stood on an amp and slid off. He would’ve caught his balance if a glass of water weren’t underneath him, so he slipped on the stage.

One story that developed during the show was that, in Washington, D.C., when Dennis was taking care of personal matters in the bathroom, he saw Noam Chomsky’s name written on the stall. He said, “It was pretty cool, considering usually you see something like “My band’s on tour” or “I hate tacos.” Then he asked us to name some other philosophers we liekd. One guy said, “Karl Marx” and Dennis replied, “Yeah, everyone loves that crazy beard fuck.” That amused us. Since it was two days before the election, Dennis asked, “So...what are you guys gonna do when Bush wins the election? Yes, smash it up.”

This set up “Smash it Up,” their single (yes, “The Buzz has started to play it). During the song, Sara had to move over for Dennis to slam his head against the organ. Dennis later made thecomment that “sometimes the pants are so tight the blood doesn’t get to the head and we say some pretty fucked-up shit.” Inge nodded proudly.

This guy behind me kept screaming “Party Programme” over and over (this is a Refused song--Refused are fucking dead), so I gathered enough courage to say it out loud. I didn’t mean to, but I said it pretty loud, and Dennis murmured something. I didn’t hear what it was and my friends didn’t either. That’ll haunt me for awhile.

Rock over London. Although he isn't really trying to spark a revolution, Doug Martsch (lead singer, guitar player of BTS) may well be the key to survival for those tired of the same old rock. As good the rawk is, more and more bands are getting swept into that old rock cliff, most of them sounding like a confectionary combination of Modest Mouse and The Red House Painters, with a twist of soured Lou Reed to make it try and sound new. You are "legit" if you only have three avid listeners, and anyone else who would be interested is not cool enough for you to bother with. Ok.

Well, here comes Built to Spill. Although it isn't exactly a landmark recording, it is a lot better than the recent efforts of the former kings of nerd rock. Weezer's latest self-titled was little more than masterbation with an iron gauntlet and super glue as lubrication; and Radiohead, although proving that they are the creative little farts they are, don't come anywhere close to the power of their previous three albums with Amnesiac. The album starts outvery nicely, with the slightly echoed thumping of Scott Plouf's drums. Martsch's voice,

floating in the way that Barry White could float if he sung three octaves higher, is proof that not all rock singers are either to self-obsessed or just flat ouut not capable of singing with any amount of greatness. Although the album starts out a little slowly, the boys quickly make up for it halfway through "Alarmed," turning the slow song into a raucous mess. "Happiness" has some really nice slide guitar work, and some rather unexpected time changes, a BTS trademark. "Fly around my pretty miss" harks back a little to the faster lemonheads stuff, and "Weather" brings the album to a nice close, but runs a little too close to sounding like a Cranberries tune.Overall, not too shabby, but there is definitely a little something missing. I suggest picking up one of their earlier albums, specifically There is Nothing Wrong with Love.

The whirrrr and crunch of machinery, shattered fragments of metal bouncing off walls, and the rhythmic jangling of hammers introduce us to Bjork's latest effort, Selmasongs. She enters the fray with rebellious shrieks of self-involvement and joyful mockery of the metallic noises that accompany her. Selmasongs is the soundtrack to her debut film, Dancer in the Dark, but it paints a picture all its own, without the visuals.

Every note in "Cvalda" is placed to perfection, every drum beat molded, every shout welded into a hauntingly beautiful harmony. In her duet with Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke on "I've Seen it all", she yells out to the sky as Mr. Yorke shows off his self-indulgement-free vocals. The rest of the album follows this trend, mutating noises like the clicking of train tracks and the squeak of shoes echoing down the hall into orchestral arrangements, then shattering them to pieces as her vocals penetrate the thick layers.

Selmasongs is a masterpiece, but it might not appeal to everyone. Her voice is anything but subtle and conventional, and as my mom can attest, grating if the listener is not in the right mood. But if you are looking for a Leonard Bernstein-meets-Tricky sort of sound, be sure to check this one out.

That said, Kid A becomes more than just a phenomenal album: it becomes the embodiment of Thom Yorke. The music is absolutely formless, a sort of Joni Mitchell meets Moby. Fairly devoid of their typical guitar and piano based song work, the album uses a lot of electronic sequencing to get its point across: Radiohead are not simply looking for a new sound, they are looking for complete dismal failure to adhere to anything conventional. In this they succeed. From the completely asymmetrical saxophone and trombone hook that carries out "The National Anthem" to the fact that only one song has a distinct chorus, there is no evidence of anything that we currently define as music.

The songs blend together to make one of the greatest albums to come out in years. I recommend it for well-steeled listeners only--this album is not for the faint of heart. If you wish to get a good, easily-listened-to sample of Radiohead, find The Bends at your local record store. Kid A is a Abstract Expressionist masterpiece, but it is too potent for most.

We are... entertaining. I play bass and am wearing a suit. Jason plays drums, Sam (ed. note: same guy who's writing above) has a tie and a vest and a guitar and sings, and ben is our other guitarist. His hair is longer. This is us at the 2001 David H. Hickman High School talent show: