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This week: Ex-Knoxville noisemakers, steel guitar electronics

Atombombpocketknife
Alpha Sounds (Southern Records)

On the cover of Chicago noise rockers Atombombpocketknife's first full-length CD, Alpha Sounds , a military helicopter hovers above a burning oil field, a wall of flames and a cloud of heavy black smoke rising into the sky in the background. It's an appropriate image; Alpha Sounds is scorched earth music, pounding, dissonant guitar riffs and paranoid, alienated rage atop complicated, razor-sharp rhythms.

There are some moments of stark beauty, too, as when vocalist/guitarist/Knoxville expatriate Justin Sinkovich sings wearily, "Sick of being sick and tired of being tired/There's opposites attracting in our vault of frozen souls," on the song "Conceit Needs Concentration." The simple, repetitive guitar line of that song builds to a lush, sweeping chorus, repeats, then builds again to a breathless, majestic swirl of sound before collapsing into quiet.

But, aside from "Conceit Needs Concentration" and the understated, neurotic closing track, "Slide," Alpha Sounds is jagged, sharp, post-punk guitar rock, angry and dissatisfied, emotionally charged in the vein of Fugazi, early Sonic Youth, and Mission of Burma.

Yet, for all the edge-of-violence cathartic energy, the album is also intensely cerebral, a political dissertation on what's wrong with rock and what's worth keeping. Instead of boogie-shuffle rhythms, catchy refrains or noodly guitar solos, Atombombpocketknife has pared the music down to its most basic and elemental structure—pounding drums, bass, and guitar—and added intelligence and discontent. There's even a hint of old-school political revolution in the lyrics, especially the opening anti-anthem, "America the Great": "America the great/Break a window when you feel slow/There's a real show."

It's not new; rock artists have been deconstructing the genre almost since it was formed. But there's a sense, in the crashing noise of Alpha Sounds, that something new may really be on the way.

—Matthew T. Everett

Luke Vibert/BJ Cole
Stop the Panic (Astralwerks)

Most electronic-music types would be insulted if you likened their work to easy listening; Luke Vibert seems to have embraced the sound and its trappings with both arms, both legs, and a big stoner grin. Irresistibly funky as ever, Vibert (aka Wagon Christ aka Plug) gets all space-age bachelor-pad on the new Stop the Panic, festooning his beat-crazy tracks with Esquivel samples, reverb-y organs, and disembodied female vocals like he just stumbled across a half-price sale in the "lounge" section at his local record shop.

Of course, a big part of the EZ vibe comes from Vibert's partner on Stop the Panic, pedal-steel guitarist BJ Cole. Steel guitar has a considerable history in electronic music, from Cole's past collaborations with the Orb and others all the way back to Daniel Lanois' zero-gravity steel on Brian Eno's 1983 Apollo (Atmosphere and Soundtrack) album. While the instrument's liquid malleability gives it an uncanny simpatico with synthesizers, steel guitar is also a hell of a novelty noisemaker, and Vibert and Cole seem most interested here in the gimmicky sounds and styles that earned pedal-steel its slightly corny rep. "Swing Lite—Alright" steps lightly with plenty of country-style twang, and the woozy glissandos of Hawaiian music wend throughout "Fly Hawaii," but Cole tends to disappear when not mugging it up or pulling some sound-effect stunt. Only on the coccyx-rocking "Hipalong Hop," where he gets an actual melody to work with, does he come across as more than exotic garnish for Vibert's fruity cocktail.

Melody, or the lack thereof, is another key link between Vibert's computer-age bachelor-pad sounds and the old-school stuff—and perhaps a long-term issue for this sort of kitsched-up electronic music in general. Easy-listening is, by definition, easy to listen to; by default, it's not usually very memorable. While it's on the hi-fi, Stop the Panic is the swingingest party in town. But the phat beats and funny noises of Vibert's ready-made nostalgia may not have much staying power without more good tunes.

—Lee Gardner

Sound Bites

Beanie Sigel
The Truth (Def Jam)

Beanie Sigel is the protégé of hip-hop megastar Jay-Z, but he's got a rough-and-tumble style of his own; he spits out all his words half-chewed. It can make him sound as tough as he wants (my favorite is the title track, with its pounding two-note organ riff), but also convincingly affectionate, like when he tells his mama, "It's all good now, we out the 'hood now." And when Jay-Z shows up at the end to do a little sampling of Oliver! ("I'd Do Anything"), it gives an appropriately Dickensian cast to the whole poor-boy-made-good saga. If Jay wants to play Fagin, Beanie's as smart and engaging an Artful Dodger as he's likely to find.

Mrs. Fun
The Best of Mrs. Fun (Daemon Records)

A best-of compilation from an indie drums-n-piano duo nobody's ever heard of. Well, not "nobody." Mo Tucker likes them. So do the Indigo Girls. It's not hard to see why. At their best, Connie Grauer and Kim Zick deliver the brainy jazz-groove goods that Luscious Jackson always promised. Art-funk, or funk-art, heavier on mood than melody. Dance music for the people who shuffle their feet nervously at the edge of the dancefloor.

KJ-52
7th Avenue (Essential)

Christian rap. I have no idea what it sounds like. I can't get past the promo kit: "Hip-hop is an extremely feasible and growing music genre." You don't say...

Muse
Showbiz (Maverick)

They're opening for Red Hot Chili Peppers next week. They were last year's "Next Big Thing" in England. Entertainment Weekly said, "Imagine Radiohead fronted by the late Jeff Buckley..." Well, yeah, I guess. Except that those guys came by their emotional and musical maelstroms honestly. Muse sounds like they learned them from, uh, Radiohead and Jeff Buckley CDs. Which means they'll probably sell more albums than either of them.

—Jesse Fox Mayshark