As the first cut, "Snubbed," pops out of the speakers, I sense another Replacements-influenced band (and that's not a bad thing). This Boston-based foursome of Russ Healy on bass, Frank Stranieri on drums, Tom Dubitsky on guitar and vocals, and Rick Collins on guitar, pumps out hook-filled tunes like it was easy. Dubitsky's voice is nice too – enough of an edge to sound emotionally damaged, yet powerful, clear, and poppy when needed, like Robin Zander of Cheap Trick. There are enough fills on guitar so the two aren't always swagging chords to fill the air, and the boys understand dynamics well enough to keep the tunes interesting. Good guitar rock from Beantown. www.pennywheel.com

At first glance, this seems to be a greatest-hits disc from some Euro-pop outfit that you've never heard of, and didn't lose sleep over. If you believe that, then read no further, since I'll smash that myth like a cheap wall in Berlin. Kilopop is Chris Butler (Waitress guitarist among other things) and Carla Murray (current singer for NYC's Moonlighters). Sure the disc is a spoof – a kind of Spinal Tap spin on a band like Abba. But the songwriting is pure pop heaven, with a new-wave slant leaning toward early Blondie. "Kiss R 'n' R Goodbye" is an infectious pop number that I kept playing over and over again. Parody aside, there's a lot to listen to here. I just hope there's a movie coming soon.

This LA foursome combines that heavy, hardcore sound (you know, chunka chunka guitar, angry vocal screaming, etc.) with the softer side of rock (i.e., acoustic guitar) throughout the 10 songs on this disc. Does it work? Well, not for me. First off, the mix sounds off, like the high end had been clipped lower than garden shrubs, leaving a muddy, messy sound. On top of that, the lyrics have that youthful, philosophical bent to them (but thanks for including the lyric sheet, since so many don't) and they seem to be so angry, but what are you going to do? Maybe this stuff is popular on the Left Coast, but personally, I don't get it.

Combine a trippy, hip-hop groove with some old-school funk, and you'll have one of the coolest discs to cross my CD player this year. "Can-O-Cope" has that War "Low Rider" thing about it – funky, laid back, like a spliff you just lit up that starts taking you away. Hard to believe it's just a trio at work: Kirk Justin (vocals), Dave Pederson (guitars, keys, programming), and Tom Merkl (bass, programming). At times, Tom contributed via the internet from the Netherlands to Minneapolis. "Larva Rae" has a James Bond/reggae feel, and if you can picture that bit of quirkiness, you've got a head start on what the rest of the disc is capable of. Ain't enough o's in the word "cool" to describe this disc. www.iffy.net

From Anchorage, Alaska comes a real pop gem. With a voice somewhere between Rikki Lee Jones and Suzanne Vega, Coadic growls, emits breathy wanton wisps, sounds coy and sexy, and is a sheer pleasure to listen to. Her sound is poppy, somewhat new wave, acoustic meets electronica. The first three cuts – "Splashpoint," "Beige," and "Flakes" – could easily chart the top ten, serve as a background song on "Friends," or find their way to an indie film love-story soundtrack. "Flakes" utilizes that voice modulation that Cher used on her last hit, but here it's not annoying. Neither, for that matter, are Coadic's lyrics, which are sharp, insightful, and intelligent storytelling. Add this one to your collection.

If you like rock and roll along the lines of Ian Hunter/Mott the Hoople, you know, blues-based rockers with a touch of glam and flash, then the Mambo Sons will tickle your fancy. Stocked to the gills with rich guitar licks sans a multitude of effects, the dozen cuts here may not bowl you over, but there's more than enough substance to hook your ears on repeated listenings (and if you're a guitar player, you'll love the stuff). Tom Guerra's guitar work is just dandy, ranging from straight blues to a Keith Richards style of chording, as on "Tomonga Street." And, hey, Rick Derringer shows up on two cuts, and he's still got it (and if you don't know "Rock and Roll, Hootchie Coo," shame on you). The mix could have been a bit cleaner but, hey, that's rock and roll. www.tomguerra.com

Frontman for the Tragically Hip, Gordon Downie takes his stab at a solo shot, and it doesn't sound like his work with that band at all. Good news? Sure. The 16 songs here have an airy feel with a cowboy backbeat. It's a kind of Roy Orbison meets Television (well, kind of, if that makes any sense), and listening to the disc from start to finish has a relaxing effect as well, like watching moonlight bouncing off the waves at night. There's also a slight theatrical feeling, as if Downie is in the midst of a one-man show, belting out wistful tunes over two acts. It's a beautiful disc, from the music to the lyrics, and everything in between. www.rounder.com

"Doesn't matter what I say, doesn't matter what I do, I don't really give a fuck, about you." That's Tairrie B. belting out the opening lines to "Stick It to Me." Probably not the type of girl you want to bring home to meet mom. Yet Tairrie B. and crew pull no punches, and while the music and band are interesting on their own, it's hard to take her belting out the vocals like so many hardcore fellas are doing, gravelly angst and all. When she's calm, and that's not often, her voice is nice. Most of the time though, it's a satanic gurgling coming at you, and frankly, I'm scared. Okay, not really, but it's still light out. Anyway, if you want a new and interesting slant on goth/hardcore, My Ruin definitely kicks ass. www.myruin.com

From fragments of Freddy and the Hubcaps, way, way back in '82, begins the saga of the Mad Daddys. First a rockabilly outfit, then a band that played a lot of Cramps covers (like, uh, "Mad Daddy"), now they hold the torch for Cramps-like music. Swampy, creepy, psychobilly; it's hard to pin down a moniker for the type of music, but you know it when you hear it. Though you might picture Lux Interior and crew, it's Stinky Sonobuoni singing, Eddie Cochring on guitar, Pete Moss on bass, and Wrongo Starr on drums. There's a bunch of humor afoot (like the title, for example, I love it), but at the core it's damned good rock and roll. What more could a listener ask for?

Mad Daddys in concert, 1998

When I was a lad living in Connecticut, I spent some time in Grand Central Station, and I was a prime target for the hawkers of records that purportedly had Santana, George Harrison, and a slew of other big names playing on it. When I got it home, it was all pseudo-religious Hare Krishna watered-down rock type stuff. I use this reference because Gary Z's disc has that same vibe to it. The songs have that religious thing about them, and in photos, he's wearing a big, loose, white cotton shirt, and has a long-ass ponytail hanging down that looks like an extension. Kind of like Cat Stevens. He's shown with a bunch of different guitars, but there's no fire-breathing fretwork, and I suppose it's kismet that I'm listening to this disc on a Sunday, but, uh, what was I trying to say? Ah, nevermind. www.angelfire.com/biz/garyz

Mix Latin lads with hardcore and what do you get? Latino hardcore, silly. It's heavy, pounding, throbbing from start to finish, utilizing at times acoustic guitars for some quiet bits. Again, it's most successful when vocalist Cristan Machado isn't raging like a Tuvan throat singer with laryngitis, but what are you going to do? And they've got the angry lyrics. "Nothing's Clear" begins "Fuck this place up," while "What Comes Around" starts off, "I hate you, I hate you – shut up..." which again leads me to wonder, can life be that bad for today's youth? Shoot, you got a CD pressed.... Anyhoo, if you like over-the-top heavy stuff, you know what to do. www.illnino.com

From LA comes a rock outfit with three, count 'em three, guitarists (holy Skynyrd!). Yet instead of insanely overplaying, they use restraint (gasp), preferring to weave harmonic lines through the songs, creating more tonal color. Sure, there's a bit of vocal histrionics, but for the most part you can hear and understand singer/guitarist Jasan Radford. There's a Tool-like creepy undercurrent to some of the tunes, while others use a more melodic approach. My guess is the three guitars would go wild during a live show, but live or on disc, it's a good rocking sound.

Yet another Left Coast band with an amalgam of styles, infusing reggae, hardcore, metal, and a boatload of DJ scratching and fills. Funny, though most of these kinds of bands just aggravate me, there's something about Insolence that puts them above others. Maybe it's the killer production (nice, clean, yet full of balls), maybe it's the way the DJ stuff isn't annoying, maybe it's the guitar work, the solid grooves. Who knows? Apparently, I don't. But I do know I'd rather slap this on than about 50 other CDs of a similar vein, and that's something. The song "1-2, 1-2" features Sen Dog of Cypress Hill, and it'll kick your ass, teeth, stomach, head, and anything else you've got.

Insolence in concert, including photos

Well, well, well, another Canadian outfit sneaking across the border. But before you call customs, just relax and give 'em a listen. I did. Tara Sloane's voice goes from velvet to steel in a heartbeat (and she's easy on the eyes too). And though I'm not the one to ask if the boys in the band are lookers as well (this critic flies straight), Thomas Payne on guitar/programming, Tony Rabalao on drums, and Tom Mckay on bass provide a solid background for Sloane's singing (strange though, how everyone's name starts with "T"). The sound is kind of heavy-edged pop, with a glint or two of metal sneaking in. It would have been nice if they had enclosed a track listing (maybe customs has it), but the third track is a real purdy song.

This disc features 12 artists who will be on a tour from British Columbia to Los Angeles in September. The music is predominantly acoustic guitars and vocal harmonies (a relief to these tired ears), and though you might think that you're trapped in some hippie collective, there's some good stuff here. Though I hate to point out the high points on a compilation disc (don't feel like shortchanging nobody), suffice it to say there are a few gems on the disc that would be worth looking into more, either through cdbaby.com (all the artists sell their discs there) or on the tour. www.sixteenthnote.com

Now here's a rock-and-roll record that's a blast from start to finish. In fact, one of the joys of doing this column is, once in a while, you run across something like Salesmen and Racists. Ike Reilly, who'd been a cemetery worker and hotel doorman (among other things), has come out with a disc recorded in his loft that is chockfull of songs that are just so damned fun to listen to that I'm smiling like a retard. Sorry, I mean mentally challenged individual. Not sounding like anyone in particular, Reilly plows through tune after tune, and you think, this is why kids pick up guitars, to write and play songs like this. There's a spirit to this disc, a feeling that'll make you glad you slapped it on, not to mention make you play it over and over. A great disc period.

While some of the songs here will ring familiar with fans of MTV's "Jackass," the story is perhaps more interesting. CKY was doing music for pro skateboarder (and brother of drummer Jess) Bam Margera's videos, which were of skateboard stunts, wacky stuff, bloopers, etc., when MTV approached Margera about doing a show in a similar vein. Bet you didn't know that, did you? Anyway, CKY (Camp Kill Yourself) sounds a bit like Led Zeppelin off the Presence album. The guitar is often doubled an octave or two below, giving a fat and funky sound. Overall, the tunes are more progressive metal, and that alone makes them a standout against the current crop of metal/hardcore. "96 Quite Bitter Beings" is my fave. It's a hoot with a wicked fun riff. Heavy stuff, but good.