ADAM BROWN
Even the Skies are Blue
(West Island is the Best Island Records)
This is a wonderful first record from all-around gentleman and scholar, Adam Brown. From his bedroom in the suburbs of Montreal, he effortlessly glides through mellow songs tinged with obviously affectionate country and western, folk, blues, and even classic rock influences. What's surprising about this record, though, is not just how refreshingly modest and simply-adorned these songs are, but the very sound of Brown's unique voice '” hushed and raspy, but fortunately never buried in the mix. It's obvious that he's not going for effect, but just writing and playing honestly, from his old soul. '” JL
File next to: The radio in my grandfather's kitchen, late '70s.

CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN
#2 (self-released)
Despite being slightly marred by overly beefy production, there is a truly promising intelligence and fervour lying just beneath the surface of this deceivingly simplistic power pop. 'œReady or Not'? (the song, not the television show) showcases CMTM's best qualities '” tight, intricate rhythm arrangements, clever, pump-your-fist hooks, roaring, holy-fuck-that-guy's-throat-must-hurt note-perfect vocals. As illustrated by the 'œgirls don't dig me so I'm sitting in my room reading comics'? theme to much of the lyrical content, there's some maturing to do '” but with a little less distortion and a little more jangle, we may have a formula for reproducing sunshine and grassy fields... but, like, with SOUND, maaaannn. '” BB
File next to: Beer-soaked summer festivals, young men with beards, sex.

COMETS ON FIRE
Blue Cathedral (Sub Pop, www.subpop.com)
Comets on Fire have gotten all kinds of five-outta-five-style critical praise for this, their third album, but to me that just indicates that desperation that most rock critics have to find records to fill their year-end Top Ten lists. (What a drought of a year for the musical zeitgeist.) They'd all be better off putting their paycheques towards starting labels and releasing records by unsigned Toronto bands. But I digress. Comets on Fire are an aggressive psych-rock band, which makes them better than your average passive-aggressive delay-pedal-abuser ('œno, why don't you rock out instead?'?). But most of Blue Cathedral just sounds like Mudhoney freakouts, without the dynamics or the Jack Daniels-fuelled shout-along-ability. And during the sleepy Floyd bits, I usually think I'd rather be listening to Psychedelic Sunday on the Mighty Q. But then a cool atonal feedback bit will come along to make everything all right, and I forgive COF their sins, and grant them the status of being one of the two non-sucky bands left on the alternative-contemporary Starbucks supplier that is 2004-era Sub Pop. Good sax playing, too. '” JD
File next to: Bardo Pond on meth, wah-wah pedals in lock-up (smash glass in emergency).

FEMME GENERATION
Circle Gets The Square
(self-released; www.femmegeneration.com)
'œIt's a brand new century,'? sings Femme Generation front-man Bernard Kadosh at the outset of Circle Gets The Square. That it may be, but these self-described 'œnew wave dance-punks'? can't help but seem a little bit behind the curve. It's not that anything on Circle Gets The Square is particularly bad (some of it, especially 'œHonestly Trudy'? is pretty good), it's just that every song left me asking myself 'œnow where have I heard that before?'? The answer could be found in pretty much all the hip bands of recent years, from The Rapture to Broken Social Scene. If you like those bands and ache for another band that sounds a lot like them, Femme Generation may just be for you. If you'd rather hear something new, and would rather see Toronto bands strive to create their own sound independent of what people do in New York, London, Detroit, and Montreal, keep looking. '” RH
File next to: Uncut, Tangiers, Hot Hot Heat, The Rapture, etc.

THE FORTY-FIVES
High Life High Volume (Yep Roc, www.yeproc.com)
I had no idea when I signed up for this Wavelength ish that it would involve time travel. But then they hand me this album to review, and, you know: Bam! I woke up in the very early 21st century. It was a magical time. Everybody was excited about Swedish garage bands and New York garage bands. And British garage bands! And maybe one or two from Australia and New Zealand. And along came the Forty-Fives, and I gotta say they sounded pretty cool. After those depressing '90s, here was a band talking about fun stuff: drinking booze, taking drugs, eating junk food, screwing bitches. I loved it. But then the time-travel spell (it could happen) wore off, and I was back in the post-9/11, post-'œHouse Of Jealous Lovers'? and most importantly, post-Jet, present. And in the cold light of 2004, the Forty-Fives looked pretty boring. '” RH
File next to: 'œHey, wouldn't it be great if Ryan Adams really rocked out...er, again?'?

ICTUS
Vis Inertiae (www.ictus.ca)
One thing I am not down with is music critics who review genres they do not understand. If you, the critic, have never enjoyed a metal song in your life, there is no point in you reviewing, say, the latest Dimmu Borgir album. Personally, I like metal and feel I understand metal, as much as anybody with short hair who wasn't abused as a child can claim to, at least. That said, this album is a promising yet deeply flawed effort. Ictus deserve praise for avoiding some of the more dominant trends in modern metal, for having a charismatic and talented lead singer, and for restrained, intelligent use of the piano. Sadly, the album also suffers from predictable lyrics, a general lack of originality and drumming so bad it'll probably be the first thing you notice. '” RH
File next to: Buy it if you want to support the local metal scene.

LITTLE WINGS
Magic Wand (K, www.krecs.com)
The latest release from Little Wings a.k.a. Kyle Field combines everything good from his past recordings for his most complete album to date. The lovely shakiness and hesitation that has blessed his songs in the past has all but disappeared in the wake of 12 beautifully composed songs. The harmonies, simplicity and lyrical genius that have become trademark Little Wings are doubly present here, one supporting the other in a dreamy trip through the backseats and mountain landscapes of his songs and stories. Magic Wand includes the long anticipated, mildly disturbing 'œUncle Kyle Says,'? which now makes me wish not only that I was riding shotgun in a smoke-filled car up the west coast, but also that I had a weird, woodsy uncle who sang me bedtime songs about baa baaing like a lamb and whose voice I could hear rising upstairs as I fell asleep at night. Unshakably nostalgic and terminally heart-warming, Magic Wand tugs at all the right strings and keeps me warm inside. '” JP
File Next To: Young Van Morrison, waking up at sunrise and seeing your breath in the air.

MARIA FULL OF GRACE
(Directed by Joshua Marston)
This is where my curiosity about South America really begins. Including the trailer for the upcoming Che Guevara memoir Motorcycle Diaries before Maria was a good move. Not that Maria's world is an especially romantic one, like Che's. Finding herself pregnant and single, out of a job and living in her family's home, Maria seems easily convinced that easy money can be had by becoming a heroin mule. What follows is an intensely harrowing story that never casts judgement on the characters. It simply tells a story. This may be slightly to a fault because the experience of watching the movie isn't empathetic, but rather voyeuristic. The shock of seeing someone defecate pouches of heroin isn't so much stirring as fascinating. However, this movie isn't about tugging on heartstrings. It documents most soberly a phenomenon I'd never before imagined, and is utterly compelling. '” JL
File next to: Heroin squeezing out of someone's colon is my anti-drug.

MEMPHIS
I Dreamed We Fell Apart (Paper Bag, www.paperbagrecords.com)
Remember that summer you were waiting for? The hot hot one with the occasional cool breeze? Well, in one of the coldest summers so far that I can remember, listening to Memphis might be the only way to get that feeling you were looking for. Sunkissed and breezy are two descriptors that come immediately to mind when listening to this side-project for Stars singer Torquil Campbell. Recorded in Vancouver and teaming up with long-time friend Chris Dumont, Campbell has collected an interesting blend of ambient techno-soul and simple strums. One of the highlights for me is the 'œelectro-Gilberto'? cover of Pet Shop Boys' 'œLove Comes Quickly.'? This album is an interesting side-step for Campbell and a nice complement to the work in his main band. A showcase for some interesting directions that Stars might be too complex to follow at times. '” SV
File next to: St. Etienne, Ivy, Bomb The Bass' 'œClear,'? sun and soul.

MIRAH
C'Mon Miracle (K, www.krecs.com)
Olympia, Washington indie chanteuse Mirah Yom Tov Zeitlyn's third proper album is a calmer, quieter and more laid-back effort that demonstrates a sophisticated and intelligent artist finally finding her stride. The previous releases where she teamed up with Microphones head-honcho Phil Elvrum have laid the groundwork for a perfect pairing this time. A relationship that has flourished over time, Elvrum is the yin to Mirah's yang and both have managed to distill the sound down to mere whispers that still display an immense power and elaborate arrangement. This understated strength of the Microphones sound complements Mirah's strong and melodic voice here. Once again, we are treated to Mirah's chamber pop observations on everyday life that take on a poignant and slightly melancholic feel. Much more delicate and simple than her previous work; nice things do come in small packages. '” SV
File next to: Julie Doiron, Retsin, a folkier Solex.

THE PAULS
Pauls Or Nothing (Free Records)
This record is free if you ask the band for it, so not owning it makes you lazy and unfriendly, or, worse, of piss-poor aesthetic judgement. It's great '” Pauls Mortimer and Julien, ex-of the Size Sevens, singing wildly with perfect skronk, but also with some kind of 'œskronk wisdom'? that puts them ahead of their peers '” including me. Nobody in town, or anywhere, is guitaring like these guys. They're pretty for real about guitars, unlike (cough cough cough cough cough) or (cough cough cough). I won't even begin to slobber all over myself about the lyrics, because I always do, but they seem totally for real about those too. Look. I'm saying that they're writing ACTUAL SONGS. And good ones too. I know you read all about the new American psych-folk or whatever, but you know you wish Devendra sounded as much like Arlo Guthrie as he looks like Arlo Guthrie, and you know that if you switched Joanna Newsom's harp for a guitar you'd send her ragtime-piano playing duff on a one-way-no-return-trip to the Lilith Fair line-up. Serious, forget whoever's playing '70s AM for Drag City this week, forget Jeff Tweedy '” forget your friend's band, even if they did get four stars in eye, because The Pauls are singing the ONLY REAL SONGS IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW. My orders, to you, the troops, this month: ONLY CARE ABOUT THE PAULS. ONLY THE PAULS MATTER. '” MFC
File next to: I'd rather go Van Gogh on both my ears than listen to another CD.

THE PRODIGY
Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned (XL, www.xlrecordings.com)
It's been seven long years since The Prodigy's 'œFirestarter'? helped ignite the electronica revolution of the mid to late '90s, and from the onset of this album (a blast of electronically processed guitars) it seems not a whole lot has changed in main gun Liam Howlett's vision of big, shiny guitars being pummelled alongside even bigger, more pummelling beats. But as The Prodigy's chronically delayed follow-up to their massive breakthrough plays on, it becomes apparent that they're not merely repeating past formulas like they did on the universally panned 2002 single, 'œBaby's Got a Temper,'? but removing themselves completely from the addictive techno synth-lines and melodies that made Experience and Music For the Jilted Generation so satisfying and served as the underlying basis for The Fat of the Land's few successful tracks. Instead, Always Outnumbered has its own unique sound, lying somewhere between electroclash and the irritating electro-punk shortcomings of the band's past. Overall, the album is fairly nondescript with no real standout tracks or high points, making it more than a little boring. '” KH
File next to: All the other new arrivals at Sonic Boom

WOLF EYES
Burned Mind (Sub Pop, www.subpop.com)
I kind of don't get this. The other non-sucky new band on Sub Pop (see Comets on Fire review) sound great on paper: three shadowy dudes from Ann Arbor who build their own sound patches to make obnoxious noise with a violent aesthetic '” great song titles: 'œStabbed in the Face,'? 'œReaper's Gong,'? 'œBlack Vomit.'? Then how come they sound like Ministry? Can someone please explain this to me? Please call and book an appointment. Maybe if you took away the Al Jourgensen distorto-vocal-growling, this might sound like the music your microwave and fridge will dig when they evolve their own consciousness. '” JD
File next to: Advil, the high frequencies of your tinnitus, it's 5am and you fuckers won't go home.

Jason & Jonny, Boy Detectives

ALIEN VS. PREDATOR

(directed by Paul W.S. Anderson, starring Sanaa Lathan + Raoul Bova)

JONNY: This was the one we'd be waiting for. The film we came out of retirement for. Now partner, you know I ain't up on all that Dark Horse Comics shit, but I was still mightily pumped for some acid-drippin' vs. heat-seekin', chestburstin' vs. torso-slicin', double-jawed vs. dreadlocked A.C.T.I.O.N. But I knew way back when this wasn't going to be the movie I wanted, because it had puny humans in it. If I'd made AVP, it woulda had no dialogue. But the PG rating was the first sign of real trouble. Then came all the lousy reviews. So we both went into this mutha with rock-bottom expectations. Yet you, Jason, magnanimously asked for just three good things to satisfy you. Did you get them?

JASON: Your Honour, I can say with all honesty that I did. To wit: that boss reconfiguring pyramid, which I loved even if those moving rocks don't seem to smush anybody; a storyline that made me realize how much I missed out on when I decided not to read Chariots of the Gods on weed; and the fact that we get so much MANO A MANO ACTION between GUYS IN RUBBER SUITS. Man, this might be a shite Alien movie but it's a rad Godzilla movie.

JONNY: Agreed on all three. The irony for me is that another thing I actually liked about AVP was the opening sequence that set up the human characters, mainly '˜cuz with Saana Lathan as the environmentalist/mountain climber, it showed this liberal alternate present that we know will turn into this depressingly right-wing future in the original Alien movies. But the number of dumb and awful things about this film could fill that ancient pyramid. How come the aliens took minutes to gestate instead of days? How come they were so easy for an environmentalist/mountain climber to kill? And why did the CGI alien queen look so lame and non-threatening? Guys in suits, you're so right.

JASON: Just think about how hot it must be in those things. Even if they are supposed to be in Antarctica (and I presume AVP was shot on location), that's gotta be stuffy. One last thing: I never believed it '˜til now,but those facehuggers really do look like angry flying vaginas. Between those critters and the blazing red vertical eye of Sauron in Lord of the Rings, we're gonna have a lot of messed-up kids around.