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Hades Saviour Self (Metal Blade/Attic) What's up with this infiltration of classic metal? Hades are stubborn enough to start the record off with a pseudo-classical guitar and then leap straight into some "I've got my balls stuck in a vise" vocals. The Hades on earth that these old school metalers call home? Why, New Jersey of course. They even have a song about the new millennium and the "heavy" consequences it will bring. The interpretation of "Our Father" in the intro to "Active Contrition" is a real kneeslapper, but the power ballad "To Know One" almost had me peeing in my pants from laughter. The rest is largely unlistenable. Kudos for remaining true to their guns, though. 6/10 (Johnson Cummins) Sky Piece of Paradise (EMI)
The Jimmy Rogers All Stars Blues Blues Blues (Atlantic/Warner) Last year one of the founders of the Chicago blues sound, Jimmy Rogers, passed away. Just before he died he left us this last record with heavy weight special guests Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Eric Clapton, Taj Mahal, Stephen Stills and a host of others. Usually these tribute records kind of suck, and in my opinion anything that includes Eric Clapton and Jeff Healey is a guaranteed stinker, but even these antichrists can't take anything away from these heavenly jams. Jimmy taking on John Lee Hooker's "Gonna Shoot You Right Down" is superb blues at its best. 7/10 (Johnson Cummins) Natural Calamity Peach Head (Ideal/Attic)
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The lead single "Some Kinda Wonderful," off the new album from Montreal-based duo Sky is misleading. The song's bouncy pop leanings don't reflect the groove-driven material that represents much of the material here. Though not quite R&B, "Push," "You and I," and "Powder" have a chunkier sound than your standard pop fare. That and the fact that these two singer-songwriters blend their talents well, gives this disc both lyrical and vocal flow. Represent, homeboys. 7.5/10 (Gerard Dee)
I suppose you could file this under "trip hop," this Tokyo twosome and their American girl singer. But it's poles apart from the Bristolian bum trip in almost every respect. Rather than trip hop's familiar shades of deep grey and dope-smoke blue, this one's painted in shades of turquoise, lime and... yeah, peach. And it's fuzzy like that, too. Lazy-ass beats, singing-to-myself vocals and lightweight guitar-plucking (plus a Dust Brothers remix) makes Peach Head the sonic equivalent of a pair of foam rubber pyjamas. Exquisitely comfortable. 8/10 (Rupert Bottenberg)