The Langley Schools Music Project
Innocence & Despair (Bar-None/Koch)

In the mid-’70s, shaggy roadhouse rocker Hans Fenger started teaching music classes in rural Langley, B.C. Equipping his battalion of 9- to 12 year olds with electric bass, noisy percussion and Orff xylophones, he schooled them in the three Bs (Beach Boys, Beatles and Bowie). Then he herded them into a school gym to record a lo-fi souvenir platter, for participants only. Bar-None’s Irwin Chusid unearthed a copy decades later, resulting in this amazing “re-release.” Honest and passionate, naïve and clumsy, the kids’ interpretations of pop hits run from Fruit-Loop-fuelled frenzies (“I’m Into Something Good”) to profoundly eerie dirges (“Space Oddity,” “Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft”), lending the songs a power that even their originators couldn’t achieve. The ultra-budget production—one mic to two-track, in a gym no less—generates a grand yet humble wall of sound in the Phil Spector tradition. It’s the swell of the children’s voices, though, that really raises the goosebumps. Shit, this stuff’ll make you cry. 10/10 (Rupert Bottenberg)

Penelope
Face au silence du monde
(Union 2112/Sonic Unyon)

Local punk-popsters Penelope score big with the production skills of none other than Dave Smalley (DYS, Dag Nasty, All, Down By Law) and the guitar strummin’ of Brian Baker (Dag Nasty, Junkyard, Bad Religion). With Smalley’s back-ups (en français, no less) and Baker’s rippin’ riffs, this almost could be latter-day Dag Nasty. Penelope don’t slouch here, though, and step up with this high quality, toe-tappin’ punk. Like a lot of their cohorts, they can be a little derivative, but manage to bring something new to the table by packing it all in with passion. This was probably a dream record for Penelope to make and that comes across crystal clear. 8/10 (Johnson Cummins)

Various
Early Summer Campfire Songs
(Dare To Care/Empty Pool/Sub Rebellion)

A great project with 23 punkers getting unplugged and downright sappy. Some pretty big names too, like Subb, the Ataris, Ann Beretta and the Kingpins. Stripped of stacked amplifiers, the bedroom doors are opened wide as pages are ripped from diaries and read for all to hear. If namby-pamby ramblings, acoustic hardcore, Irish C&W and scaled-down ska don’t make you feel like you’ve just taken a tumble in fibreglass insulation, then there is a lot to dig here. The songwriting of King Kong Girio, Fifty Nutz, Chris Murray and Da Whole Thing is right up front and in the open where it should be. 7/10 (Johnson Cummins)

Drugstore
Songs for the Jetset
(Global Warming/Fusion III)

The third album by this five-year-old U.K. act has a sweet but thorny simplicity all its own, morose at times and dramatic elsewhere, with large doses of murky tenderness that skillfully side-steps syrupy slop. Fanciful acoustic guitar melodies are bolstered by piano and cello, with little touches of xylophone and an occasional twang of pedal steel, all held together by the distinctive cooing of Brazilian-born singer Isabel. This brand of dark folk-pop recalls the Velvet Underground at times, or Marianne Faithfull or Nico, two other sombre-sounding women who probably overdid the meds. 8.5/10 (Lorraine Carpenter)

Edison Woods
self-titled (Endearing/No)

This goes past the post-rock mark to the never-did-rock-and-never-intended-to department. This NYC seven-piece, led by singer/pianist Julia Frodahl, deploys the chamber strings in recalibrating the slow-core vibe of adult indie rock. The songs are sparse, respectfully democratic and terribly fragile, reflecting the inspiration found in the poetry of Bowles and Cummings (sorry, cummings) and in personal letters. Where Frodahl and co. really succeed is in that this approach to music could have bottomed out into corny melancholy or ethereatrics. It does neither, but rather gives voice to some emotional grey space that’s difficult to pinpoint (I’d need one of those cellos over this Mac) but remarkably familiar. 8/10 (Rupert Bottenberg)

Rheostatics Night of the Shooting Stars (Perimeter/Universal)

Canada’s quirkiest have always danced dangerously close to the edge of suckdom (where the Barenaked Ladies currently reside) but still manage to come across as Pierre Berton on mind expansion drugs. Opener “These Days are Good for the Canadian Conservative Youth Party Alliance” pretty much sets the stage for what you are in for here. The one difference this time around is that instead of once again sounding like the merging of two solo projects (Bidini vs. Tielli), they have gotten more cohesive and play more like a band with no sore thumbs exposed. The new wave strut of “Song of the Garden” is ripe for a Belinda Carlisle dance step and the rest will have you believing that places like Cornwall are really romantic Valhallas. 7/10 (Johnson Cummins)

Warren G
Return of the
Regulator
(Ultimate/Universal)

I’m officially gonna classify Warren G as the most harmless creature ever to waltz into the hip hop game. You remember Warren, who came up with Nate Dogg, Snoop and select Dogg Pound members back in the early ’90s. Unfortunately, everybody seemed to get some except Warren, leaving him to scrounge in the G-funk scraps. It’s alright, though. Even if it did take him a while to ink a new deal, he’s gone right back to making those wonky, bass-based party joints that made Snoop and Dre in the very beginning. They are not gonna make Warren now, but he’ll get by with a little help from his friends Butch Cassidy, Soopafly, Mista Grimm, George Clinton, El Debarge and Snoop and Nate, of course. This record will not annoy anyone or make them angry at old West Coast cats, but it will remind you that the G-funk era is over. 7/10 (Scott C)

The Coup
Party Music (75Ark/BMG)

Yup, this is that record that was delayed because of its horribly timed first cover (MC Boots Riley detonating the World Trade Center). The title’s double entendre comes across loud and clear as Riley dispenses the hard-left hip hop sloganeering over the day-glo electro-theque grooves of DJ Pam the Funkstress. Riley’s black power Marxism echoes the days of the Black Panthers (the Coup’s from Oakland, too) and pulls no punches—there’s nothing metaphorical about tracks like “5 Million Ways to Kill a CEO.” His righteous indignation, however, search-and-destroy in its condemnations, is tempered by clever, articulate humour and digressions into more thoughtful, personal turf. That’s what’ll win over those of us who generally make like a Mexican bull at the sight of anything red. And that’s a bit of a coup in itself. 8.5/10 (Rupert Bottenberg)

Various
Underground Airplay Mixed by DJ Spinbad
(Ecko/Lyricist Lounge)

For all of you out there who remember buying Ecko gear when it was spelled “Echo,” you’re more than likely familiar with the Underground Airplay mix tapes. In one of the first successful joint marketing schemes between hip hop music and fashion, every Echo T-shirt that was sold came with an exclusive Underground Airplay cassette. Here, DJ Spinbad licks off several shots of the good shit, mixing some sweet blends with ridiculous cuts. I should probably mention that I didn’t get any Ecko gear whatsoever with this CD that features tracks from Mos Def, Zion I, Masta Ace, Quasimoto, Bahamadia, Unspoken Heard and the Bad Seed—for starters. As much as I’d like a shirt, or even a pair of jeans from Ecko, I could probably be just as happy with this CD... I guess. 8/10 (Scott C)

Charles Webster Born on the 24th of July (Statra/Fusion III)

In which the legendary, British-born house DJ/producer steps out from behind the curtain for the first time (his many aliases include Furry Phreaks, Presence, Sine and the Boy) for a soulful, atmospheric long-player. Straining traditional songwriting patterns and instruments (guitar, piano) through modern textures and electro-isms, Webster has turned out a stunningly warm, mellow sound with every little beat in its right place. Vocal guests include Del St. Joseph, Massive Attack’s Sara Jay and Basement Jaxx/Cassius collaborator Steve Edwards, all of whom add an emotive yet other-worldly layer to this spacious and softly undulating mood music. 9/10 (Lorraine Carpenter)

Marc Anthony
Libre
(Sony)

If Shakira and Ricky Martin make you long for a more dedicated Latin musical experience, then Marc Anthony’s latest may be the balm you’ve been looking for. Anthony’s fourth Spanish-language album finds him firmly entrenched in the salsa groove, and it suits him well. Whether lamenting over love’s ugly counterpoint, jealousy (“Celos”), or exploring its more playful side (“Amor Aventurero”), his engaging falsetto brings life to musical tales that are both genuine and heartfelt. Instead of la vida loca, Anthony offers simply la vida buena. Nothing wrong with that. 8/10 (Gerard Dee)

Herbie Spanier
Anthology 1962–93, Anthology II 1969–94
(Justin Time/Fusion III)

Trumpet player Spanier died in Toronto on Dec. 14, one of the great innovators in Canadian Jazz history. Since first hearing him at the Chez Paree back in ’53, I rarely heard him give a performance that was short of brilliant. Other than a few solos with Phil Nimmons and a not too successful encounter with Paul Bley, the 18 tracks on these two CDs, personally chosen by Spanier himself, are the legacy currently available by this jazz giant. Whether you’ve ever heard him live or not, these are two CDs that belong in any serious jazz collection. Son Calder, Alex Dean, Alvin Pall, Brian Dickinson, Gordie Fleming and Michel Lambert are among the supporting cast. Both 10/10 (Len Dobbin)