RUFUS WAINWRIGHT
Want One (DREAMWORKS)

The words “pop prodigy” probably do get thrown around a bit too often, but most of those with any familiarity with the emerging genius of Rufus Wainwright would have to argue that they seem warranted in his case. Creating an amalgam arriving somewhere between Tin Pan Alley and the best of contemporary pop aesthetics, his visionary stance seems on solid footing. Still, one gets the impression that his creative equilibrium has been thrown off balance a bit. As always, Wainwright’s pop acumen assumes center stage, with arrangements that are almost inconceivably lush and layered - almost to their detriment. In fact, his deftness with melody and sonic molding is such that it so completely trumps every other element in the mix that it almost precludes Rufus, the person, from emerging in the mix as clearly as he did on his last two outings. Words are rendered as little more than ornamentation for his elaborately dressed sonic architecture, and one has to appreciate the restraint he displays as a lyricist, although his verse occasionally suffers from cliché and blandness. Obviously he might be a bit better served by allowing his other more understated gifts to rise to the fore, but as subtlety doesn’t seem to suit him just yet, we’ll have to settle for the grandiose expression of his considerable talents. Still, Wainwright covers an amazing amount of sonic territory, mumbling mellifluously over pop operettas one minute, soaring on waves of orchestration the next, and sighing with Thom Yorke-ish resignation the next. Without a doubt, Rufus Wainwright has a classic album in his future (quite possibly a musical or some hybrid thereof) - and while it’s undeniably solid, Want One doesn’t predict to be his definitive statement. (Matt Fink)

Waldorf
s/t (Kinky Star)

Another member of the strong core of bands on Belgium's great Kinky Star label, Waldorf plays a potent straight-ahead rock style built around the songs of frontman Wolfgang Vanwymeersch. The sound is a bit of a throwback to the days of classic guitar rock from the 80's and 90's, especially when Vanwymeersch broods like a latter day grunge singer, but they have an undeniable knack for finding nifty melodic bits and some excellent choruses to elevate the songs (i.e. "I Didn't Know What I Was Searching" and the splendid "Catch 24"). This isn't a flawless debut by any means, but Waldorf has a winning combination of strong musicianship and a solid songwriting to use as a foundation. (Andy Smith)

BÜTCH WALKER
LEFT OF SELF-CENTERED (ARISTA)

Yep, you got it--Butch with an umlaut. Or is it ümlaut? In any event, here we have the love child of Motley Crue & Spinal Tap, and even though I know it's evil, there are always other bastard children of the devil who are suckers for wanky guitars, huge background vocals, and unabashed vocal indulgence. When it comes to the schlock factor, you've gotta give Walker credit for piling it on high, like ham on wry. Maybe a triumphant return to the glitz of Reagan-era excess really is just around the corner. But you diehard punk-cum-indies don't tune in here for that, now, do you? At its very best, Left of Self-Centered is bone-hard pop-philosophy ("My Way"--thank you Cheap Trick). At worst, it devolves into heavy-handed metal slickery ("Sober"--beware Night Ranger fanclubbers). Make no mistake, there are kick-ass songs here just waiting to happen. Walker's a ripping guitarist (check out the mad-fuzz explosion in "Into the Black"), an adept multi-instrumentalist (plays just about everything on the record), and skilled producer (that too). He fashions great nonsensical-yet-somehow-insightful singalong anthems ala Fast Times at Ridgemont High 2002. But how inspired can you get about a guy whose most decided achievement is understanding perfectly that most 80s commercial rock was a joke and then, in a strange twist of logic, attempting to lambaste it by pulling it off cock, stock and barrel? My god, what could this prodigious a talent do if he decided to rise above the artifice-slash-parody? There are hooks galore here--check out, "Far Away From Close." For all I can tell, if you stripped away all the arena poster-posing this shit could be the fücking Clash. Ten bucks says I'll probably end up loving it. (J. J. Benson)

JASON WALKER & THE LAST DRINKS
Ashes & Wine (LAUGHING OUTLAW)

Solid, no-nonsense singer/songwriter fare from this Aussie. Working firmly in the vein of Americana represented by Steve Earle and Uncle Tupelo, Walker, who last year penned a fine biography of alt-country icon Gram Parsons (God's Own Singer), veers from near singalongs ("Down in the River") to more contemplative meditations ("You're On Your Own"). Tasteful, earnest, thoughtful songcraft is the word of the day here. Nothing groundbreaking, but fans of everyone from John Hiatt to Chris Knight should dig it. Best song: The rafter-shaking "Dissatisfaction." (Luke Torn)

THE WALKMEN
EVERYONE WHO PRETENDED TO LIKE ME IS GONE (STARTIME)

Some of the members of the Walkmen used to play in Jonathan*Fireeater, a highly regarded NYC group who managed to release a couple major label records without me noticing. Recorded at their own studio (reportedly built with major label cash), Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone will, like so many recent releases, have you playing the spot-the-influence game from the moment you push play. The Velvet Underground (surprise) is the biggie, but there are traces of Echo and Bunnymen, Television, and Radiohead lurking as well. Nevertheless, the Walkmen wear their influences well. They write memorable songs (my favorite is the chiming "French Vacation") and using a variety of organs, pianos, guitars and tapes are able to marinate their music in so much late night/foggy day atmosphere that it feels plain wrong to play this record when the sun is shining. Vocalist Hamilton Leithauser (a dead ringer for the Bunnymen's Ian McCulloch) is well able to cut through the smoke with his lonesome, attenuated wailing, and he manages to communicate all the melodies effectively despite his rather limited range. Listeners who spend time lamenting the lack of originality of groups like The Strokes and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club might as well keep on walking, because the Walkmen haven't given us anything we haven't heard before. For those of you interested in hearing it all again, however, your table is ready. (Matt Murphy)

ROGER WALLACE
THE LOWDOWN (LONE STAR RECORDS)

Austin honky-tonk mainstay Roger Wallace is one of the current crop of alt-country dark horses. With his rumbling baritone and smooth as silk band, Wallace is reminiscent of the purest breed of twangy country singers, such as early, early Ray Price, Hank Thompson (via a taste of western swing), and Don Williams. This record, his third, is no great stylistic departure for him, though producer and Austin guitar hero Derek O'Brien brings a bit of bluesy grit to tracks like "So Long (Be Gone)." But mostly it's business as usual, and classicist Wallace compositions like "Wandering Fool," with it's sturdy waltz pace, "Blow Wind Blow," a fine duet with Toni Price, and the mournful hardwood shuffle of the title song mark Wallace as a worthy inheritor of the kind of hard honky-tonk pioneered by Lefty Frizzell. Though it's fun to play 'spot the influences,' in one song Wallace spells it out loud and clear: a cover of Harlan Howard's "I'll Catch You When You Fall," (a 60s hits for Charlie Walker), wherein its relentless dance rhythms and searing fiddle and guitar interplay prove that Wallace is playing the game for keeps. (Luke Torn)

LEON WARE
Musical Massage (MOTOWN)

Unsung soul singer Leon Ware’s 1976 classic of sensuality is finally reissued. A mix of soul, jazz, and funk, it confirms Ware’s place in the Motown pantheon, right next to the far more celebrated Marvin Gaye. It’s little known that Ware wrote Gaye’s smash hit “I Want You.” Then Gaye asked for “Massage,” (perfect for sexual healing) too. Ware refused, thankfully. With hindsight, it’s clear Ware envisioned the rise of smooth R&B, even as Motown declined. Five bonus tracks included. (John Stoehr)

WATERGLASS
WISDOM LIKE SILENCE (WATERTIGHT)

Omigod! I used to know so many people like this, back in the late 80s. Remember the type?--all dressed in black, smelling of patchouli, black eyeliner, and perfectly groomed, and corresponding bands that wanted to be the Cure, Bauhaus, Alien Sex Fiend, or even (God forbid) All About Eve. Looking at Waterglass' picture takes me back to places I don't even want to think about. There's an almost Spinal Tap-ish spin on all of this, and my inability to find anything about them in cyberspace makes me all the more suspicious. The lyrics are written mostly by the bassist, Aidan (rule number one: never trust a band that only goes by their first names; rule number two: never trust a band where the female vocalist has to sing the bassist's lyrics; rule number three: never trust a band with a bassist named Aidan). While the likes of Evanescence might suggest that neo-gothic pomp is on the comeback trail, let me point out that Waterglass (rule number four: never trust a band with a purposely awful name) sounds like nothing recorded after 1989. While that might be considered a good thing in some circles, here it's merely food for laughter. (d.n.l)

DALE WATSON
Whiskey Or God
palo duro
Dale Watson will do nothing to change the perception of honky-tonkin’ country music with this new release. The title suggests the point, but songs like “Sit and Drink and Cry,” “Tequila and Teardrops” and – here’s the grand prize winner – “I Ain’t Been Right Since I’ve Been Left” bring it home: this is all tears and beers. Truckloads of booze and heartbreak, nightshifts and Sunday prayers drive the beat on Whiskey or God, and Watson has obviously lived through the stories. At once confident and weary, his voice brims with wisdom and it matches the material perfectly. It should – Watson has been playing these songs live for years. It’s about time he committed these raucous B-sides to disc. Consider the hilarious “Truckin’ Queen (I Got My Night Gown On)": “He’s got a string of white pearls around his big red neck/Scruffy beard and the hair on his back makes the negligee stick out, kinda lumpy like/He ain’t got no hair on the top of his head/But he’s got a pony tail with a blue beret.” C’mon, this is fun stuff.    – Brian T. Atkinson

WAYNE
MUSIC ON PLASTIC (TVT)

I want so much to be more critical of Wayne's earnest, polished college rock, but can't. Wayne's big, booming love-rock is just too easy to crank up, sit back, and enjoy. Comparisons to decidedly non-edgy, cosmopolitan roots rockers such as Matchbox Twenty and the Wallflowers are almost warranted, but I'd place Wayne more in line with such unabashedly tuneful predecessors as the Connells or Toad the Wet Sprocket. Music on Plastic, features fat, melodic walls of guitars muscling up against Rodney Reaves' unobtrusively smooth vocals and hooks galore. The crashing, euphoric "Shooting at the Stars" is a highlight here, as are "Slow Down" and "Whisper." Even a seeming throwaway such as the remotely country-flavored "Take Me Home," which clocks in at a minute-and-a-half, is melodic and hook-ridden enough to make most pop songwriters drool. Something must also be said about the production on this effort, which is full and crisp without sounding overdone. And the various guitar tones throughout really push Musicon Plastic over the top. As a hidden bonus, Wayne do an extraordinarily dead-on and scarily good version of "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road." (Erik Hage)

We Are Scientists
The Wolf’s Hour (Self-released)

New York-based We Are Scientists pushes out a sound that keeps one foot firmly planted in the 70s and the other in the here and now on their fourth EP, The Wolf’s Hour. On the one hand, WAS features the angular martial rhythms of Gang of Four and the Spizzenergi enclave, particularly on the EP’s first two tracks, “Inaction” and “Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt.” At the same time, the trio (guitarist Keith Murray, bassist Chris Cain, drummer Michael Tapper) sports a great garage pop ethic, blending the swing of Blur with the leash-snapping power of the Strokes (“The Great Escape,” “This Means War”). Bassist Ariel Rechtshaid produced a pair of tracks here and helms the board for We Are Scientists’ full length debut, slated for early next year. More of this would be just fine. --Brian Baker

THE WEARY BOYS
Jumpin' Jolie
Weary Records
This Austin quintet's fifth record--Jumpin' Jolie--is a jolt of violin-sawing, dancefloor-filling roots 'n' roll, though in the long run probably merely a memento in comparison to the band's crackling stage shows. The title track, bestowing traces of Acadiana (as do several other tracks) and plenty of what one might call Gourds shimmy, is the perfect lead-in to the Wearies world: raw backwoods rockabilly, a big slurp of whiskey, a couple of crystalline blues, some Chuck Berry licks, lots of sorrowful country shuffles, and anything else to get bodies in motion. Best might be the instrumentals, though--"Lost Bayou Blues" and "Hoot Owl," which zero in on a bit of Southern Comfort-styled Cajun hypno-trance grooves.       --Charlie Sands

THE WEIRD WEEDS
Weird Feelings
Sounds Are Active
Weird Feelings, the debut full-length from Austin's Weird Weeds, unsurprisingly stresses on the weird. A collection of non-structured psychedelic numbers generally ranging from a minute to three, the album stutters and flutters through a series of atmospheric tracks. Often soft and hushed, though occasionally explosive, Weird Feelings might not flow as traditionally as one’s average record, though there are moments of brilliance that shine through its disjointedness. However, the songs generally tend to finish before any payoff is reached, dissolving any anticipation of Mogwai-like crescendos. The instruments utilized for the album include the kalimba (African “thumb piano”), assisted usual suspects like pedal steel and trombone. The soft, mellow sprawl created by the Weird Weeds appeases a quiet afternoon, but all in all, Weird Feelings leaves behind an anti-climactic ambience.   --Adi Anand 

Paul Weller
As Is Now (Yep Roc)

Paul Weller's career, at least in his native England, has reached epic heights. He's now charted well over 125 Top Forty records, first as frontman for The Jam, then The Style Council, and, since 1991, as a solo artist. Three different careers, really, and all of them have produced #1 singles and #1 albums. As Is Now, the first of his solo albums in many years to be released at almost the same time in America as in England (some have lagged nearly a year late over here), has already produced two smash hit singles in the UK ("From the Floorboards Up" and "Come On/Let's Go") and has already topped the album charts in the UK. In America, it's almost sure to be virtually overlooked again, even though he's finally done a tiny bit of touring and television promotion work behind it. And that's a crime, because As Is Now is easily the finest album Weller has made since The Jam's 1980 masterpiece, Sound Affects (which at the end of that year broke standing popularity records set previously by The Beatles and Led Zeppelin). What's really weird is that this album comes hard on the heels of Weller's most pronounced era of songwriter's block. For the past several years, he'd focused on side projects, acoustic albums, an album of covers done soul-style. Returning to electric format while touring the covers album, he found himself renewed, and full of energy. After a two-week break, Weller and his long-time touring band (drummer Steve White, OCS' Steve Cradock on lead and rhythm guitars and keys, and bassist Damon Minchella [ex-OCS] -- a band that's been together for over a decade now) went straight in the studio and knocked it right out of the park. All of Weller's strengths are maximized here -- fantastic soulful vocals, razor sharp slashing guitar work, beautiful ballads reminiscent of both McCartney at his best and of Nick Drake, and echoes of The Beatles circa Revolver and the White Album. Best of all, it's his finest collection of songs in over 20 years. Right from the opener, the soul-inflected rocker "Blink (And You Just Might Miss It)," it's immediately obvious that the man is back on form. The debut single, "From the Floorboards Up," is one of Weller's toughest rockers since The Jam, and the second single, "Come On/Let's Go" is even better, the most infectious slice of funky rock 'n' roll of the last 12 months. "Paper Smile" feels like one of the best tracks from his previous solo landmark, Stanley Road. "Here's the Good News" is a bouncy piano/horn fueled track that could fit right in on one of the Small Faces' Immediate albums. "The Start of Forever" might be the most affecting love song he's ever written. "Bring Back the Funk (Pts. 1 & 2)" is pure Style Council. "The Pebble and the Boy" feels like a new Nick Drake song. But the one that's really getting under my skin is the wonderfully evocative "All On A Misty Morning" which is the equal of nearly any song he's written (or anything I've heard this year, for that matter). Make no mistake about it, this one's a keeper. And the right bastard still looks annoyingly cool and youthful for a fellow who's creeping up on 50. Still dresses better than we do, too. Damn! --Kent H. Benjamin

JUNIOR WELLS
LIVE AROUND THE WORLD: THE BEST OF (LEGACY)

There are two very good reasons to grab this live recording. If you're familiar with the legend, this smoldering collection of soulful performances will reaffirm your faith. If you've not yet dipped your toes into Chicago blues, the track selection here features seminal classics as your primer to the genre. Recorded on tour between October 1996 and February 1997 with a dynamic backing band, Wells is in top form, growling signature vocals and wailing on harp like a man possessed. You'd be hard-pressed to issue a record like this without signature songs like "Got My Mojo Working" and "Hoo Doo Man," and both do get a workout, but the other tracks don't take a back seat. "Help Me" is a ten-minute tour-de-force, "Sweet Sixteen" (with stellar keyboard work from Johnny Iguana) is all slow funk and sex, and Wells' vocal on "Take Off Your Shoes" could make Barry White blush. Seventy minutes of magic from the master. (Bill Holmes)

Wheatus
Too Soon Monsoon (Montauk Mantis)
Wheatus comes up with an armload of catchy riffs on Too Soon Monsoon as well as plenty of quirky arrangements and production tricks. Songs like "BMX Bandits" seem primed to appeal to a young crowd of adrenalized adolescents, especially bike and skate enthusiasts, although the band's sound lacks the testosterone rush of punkier bands. But despite this seeming predilection towards disposable pop tunes, Wheatus shows more musical ambition with plenty of mid-tempo acoustic songs that last over five minutes. Too Soon Monsoon makes Wheatus sound like a band looking to make the jump from the indie world to the mainstream, but they'll need better production and more focus on writing "hits" if they are to succeed. (Andy Smith)

The Whirlwind Heat
Flamingo Honey (Dim Mak)
It must be nice to be associated with Jack White and have doors opened to you that wouldn't ever be otherwise. The synth, bass, drums trio called The Whirlwind Heat has toured with the White Stripes and gained some semblance of an audience for their madcap, off-kilter sound. Flamingo Honey is an exercise in economy clocking in at just over ten minutes for ten songs, so if you want to listen to an entire record in a short time, this is the one. For a group of songs that are individually no longer than 66 seconds, they manage to come up with some interesting ideas. Still, it's hard to see this as much more than a novelty. (Andy Smith)

WHITE STRIPES
ELEPHANT (V2)

It's settled, finally: Meg White is Jack White's ex-wife, not his sister. That's according to Newsweek last month. But that doesn't make the new album by Detroit garage rock duo the White Stripes any less powerful and worthy. In fact, Elephant is better than White Blood Cells, their last effort. There's more bona fide rockers with a wider range of beats and tighter songwriting (just compare the first four tracks) in this 14-song set. Add to that a some country ballads, roadhouse rambles, and jangly garage punk 60s-style, and you've got a strong record that has some critics hailing it as the best of 2003. Some say the best in a decade. That's a stretch, though. There are too many stinkers on the disc to go that far. For one thing, Meg's foray into singing, "In the Cold Cold Night," is pretty bad, if not awful. Moreover, her vocal limpness is put in bold relief when juxtaposed with Jack's killer singing prowess. He seems to embody whatever he's singing about. Why is Meg singing? The last track, too. "It's True That We Love One Another" is a yet another cheeky play on the brother-sister rumors that fueled their red-and-white, minimalist mystique till recently: "I love Jack White like a little brother," sings guest singer Holly Golightly, the popular British singer, who then asks Meg for love advice regarding her "brother." It's a bit much. Elephant could benefit from a calculating veteran producer who knows when enough quirkiness is enough. Overall, though, Elephant is an important album - and it sounds great when played loud, really loud. The album was recorded in two weeks, recorded on dated Rolling-Stones-era equipment. That's remarkable when most bands record raw and then gloss over every crack and blemish with a thick coat of Pro Tools. Elephant also boosts the band's authenticity in the eyes of many. They don't need technology to rock. But a little more time in the studio would have helped excise some of the weaker tracks, like the mid-album ballads. But raw energy and an unbridled mania are reasons why one listens to the White Stripes. No one does it better. And their back-to-basics rock principles, something conspicuously absent on rock radio in recent years, have endeared the duo to many, critics and fans alike. The grooves they fall into are the best going nowadays. "Seven Nation Army," "There's No Home for You Here," and "Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine" - these are the juiciest, choicest cuts of rock sirloin you've heard in years. (John Stoehr)

THE WHO
Wire & Glass (Six Songs From A Mini-Opera)
Polydor UK
As a teaser for the first Who album in 24 years, "Wire & Glass" is quite an exciting and intriguing piece. It's apparently based on the lengthy story--"The Boy Who Heard Music"--that Pete Townshend has serialized on his website, a story that seems to have parallels in both Townshend's own Lifehouse saga and in The Jam's unreleased 1979 concept album (from whence came "Thick As Thieves"). Musically, it's pretty great--The Who in fine and recognizable form--and the best writing Townshend's done since Empty Glass. The mini-opera consists of five brief segments, each quite good, culminating in a song-length track called "Mirror Door" that is indeed worthy of consideration alongside many classic Townshend tracks (and incidentally, seems to me to share lyrical concerns with The Jam's farewell single, "Beat Surrender"), highlighted by a particularly fine Roger Daltrey vocal. Townshend and Daltrey are augmented by their road band--Pino Palladino, Rabbit Bundrick, and Simon Townshend-- alongside a drummer I've never heard of filling in for the incomparable Zak Starkey (unavailable for the recording due to a live tour by his other band, Oasis). Palladino really shines on his first studio recording with the band. For some, this simply can't be The Who without Entwistle and Keith Moon, but let's face it, we had no reason to expect another great album from The Who, and yet this mini-opera seems to indicate that's exactly what we've got in store!  --Kent H. Benjamin

Wilderness
s/t (Jagjaguwar)

The self-titled record from this Baltimore band could have been one of my recent favorites. I like the layered almost ambient guitar wall and spare rhythms; several of the songs are downright gorgeous. And I also like the idea behind the vocals, a sort of a detached, non-melodic howl to act as a counterpoint to the guitars. The trouble is that the vocals are just too affected and quickly become irritating. Now this is a totally personal reaction, but it is a dealbreaker for me. Your reaction may be different. Judging from other press I have read on this record, many others do have a different opinion. (Andy Smith)

WILDERNESS
Vessel States
Jagjaguwar
Wilderness is one of those bands that would probably be good to use to determine people's personality characteristics. They will certainly inspire devotion among some listeners, while plenty of others will cast them aside without a second thought. Vessel States is the band's second full-length Jagjaguwar release and is an improvement over the first with some intriguing songwriting. The drawback though is that it comes off as lacking a substantive emotional core. It is intriguing but doesn't seem to hold up to close examination, which is probably why people like the Pitchfork Media crowd think it's so vital. To this writer, it inspires a whole lot of ambivalence.--Andy Smith

WINDSOR for the DERBY
Calm Hades Float
Minnie Greutzfeldt
Secretly Canadian
As hard as it is to believe that Windsor for the Derby’s classic debut, Calm Hades Float, came out 10 years ago, it’s even harder to stomach that it’s been out of print and hard to find for much of that time. Originally released on King’s much missed Trance Syndicate label, the first two W4tD albums came and went largely unnoticed by anyone who wasn’t already way into the post-rock scene. Almost totally confounding for both its refusal to completely stick to styles and forms within the genre (sometimes ambient, often not, sometimes with vocals, mostly not, sometimes electronic, mostly not, etc.), it also didn’t help that the songs had no titles. Far from being seven movements of the same kind of music, the album was truly a declaration of contradictions of the best kind. Both albums are finely produced by Stars of the Lid producer Adam Wiltzie, who seemed to understand and respect the quietest moments as well as the few that could truly be called loud. Adding three live tracks that don’t sound live, the debut is as relevant and confounding as it was a decade ago. The second album is a little more dimensional, and even offers titles as descriptive as “Skinny Ghost” and “No Techno/w Drums” to help us along our way. In contradiction to the first album, Minnie Greutzfeldt sounds like 13 movements to one piece. There's little else to say except that it’s wonderful thing to have these touchstones back in print.  --d.n.l

On paper it all seems so promising, and I had singled this album out as one that was sure to be a pick of the litter. For one thing, it's produced by Low's Alan Sparhawk, and released on Low's Chairkickers Music label. For another, frequent comparisons to Low in the press also made it a promising listen. Musically, Actors and Actresses is quite good, and Winter Blanket do build on the dynamics of Low and make something of their own with it. It's hard to fault them, for the most part, instrumentally. So why does it sound like there's a problem here somewhere? Well, there are several moments where co-vocalist Doug Miller's vocals just go flat out of tune. Sure, with the right singer, that can be charming, but here it's sand in vaseline, often disarming a potentially sweet moment. Though that may have been part of the plan, I found repeat listens difficult knowing these faux pas were coming. Of course, there are also times when Miller's voice blends well with that of his bandmate, Stephanie Noble. There's plenty of potential here, but, while Winter Blanket is a group I'd like to love, the minor flaws get in the way. (d.n.l)

WISHBONE ASH
ARGUS (MCA/DECCA)

It's weird that there's never been a serious critical reappraisal of all the classic progressive rock albums from the 70s, even though it's been 25 years now since punk drove the nails into its coffin. Still, this 30th anniversary expanded reissue of Wishbone Ash's masterpiece sounds every bit as magnificent now as it did back then. By 1972, Wishbone Ash had evolved into a blindingly good live act, with the twin guitar attack of Andy Powell and Ted Turner, bass of Martin (no relation) Turner, and drums of Steve Upton. But nothing on the first two albums would've led you to believe the band would ever get this good. Although not intended to be a true concept album, Argus's lyrical themes revealed a consistency they'd never again equal < perfectly illustrated by the olde English sentry on the enigmatic Hipgnosis cover (sadly now missing the UFO on its back panel). This remaster was compiled a few years back by Martin Turner (but belatedly issued), and it sounds terrific. With the lovely three-part harmonies, and its blend of pastoral English folk with devastating thunders of Who-like electricity, it's an album I can still put in and just play on repeat. "Blowin' Free" remains their definitive anthem, and "Time Was," "Sometimes World," and the climactic medley of "Warrior"/"Throw Down the Sword" have lost none of their considerable power. The album is made doubly desirable by the addition of the virtually impossible to find Live In Memphis three-track promotional EP, taped at an FM broadcast (which I attended, but could never find the vinyl edition < I think they only pressed 250-500). It's really sad that this album doesn't have the acclaim and classic rock airplay given to The Yes Album and Fragile, because it remains at least on a par with those more celebrated works, not to mention being light years better than anything Jethro Tull and Emerson, Lake & Palmer produced. If you aren't old enough to remember Argus, and love thrilling guitar playing, well-crafted, intelligent songs, and three-part harmonies, it's not too late to get hip retroactively. (Kent H. Benjamin)

THE WITNESSES
Hard Up EP (HOWLER RECORDS)
Black Eyes and White Lies (HOWLER RECORDS)
Brooklyn’s Witnesses possess all the swagger and chops that the White Stripes and Strokes pretend to have, so it’s a mystery why they haven’t achieved the same notoriety. They are far more versatile than the White Stripes, not to mention having a good drummer. And the Strokes…well, they just plain suck. The Witnesses, on the other hand, often sound like the bastard child of the Stooges and Stones (especially the complimentary guitar work of Oakley Manson and Darian Zahedi). Bonnie Bloomgarden’s keyboards and suggestive vocals add the jolt that the majority of neo-garage bands seem to favor, and the rhythm section of Kenan Gunduz and Will Scott is aggressive. Nobody’s going to win an award for lyrics, but you can’t have everything.

The new full-length, the band’s second, is chock full of goodies. “Rocks” lives up to its name with a stuttering Zeppelin-esque bounce, “We’re Taking Over” is a Queen stadium rocker with testosterone vocals and both “Hard Up” and “Summer of Blood” remind us that a little guitar wanking is supposed to be what rock’n’roll is all about. “Some Kinda Something” and “Be Straight With Me” couldn’t be more different but both rip into your skull with primal urgency. Black And White Lies is anything but commercial, preferring to mix a stew of stomp, rock and soul with an occasional yelp for spice. Gobble it down.

The seventeen minute, five track limited edition EP features three cuts not included on the album proper and is a worthy grab as well. “Everybody” features infectious tradeoffs between keyboards and the intertwined guitars of Munson and Zahedi; “Split Personality” just plain rocks and “Trouble” somehow makes the acoustic guitars and pianos sound as drunk as the band might have been. Any of the three would have been worthy inclusions on the full length. There’s a gospel trio from Martinique that also goes by “The Witnesses” and it’s obvious whose fans would be more shocked if they showed up at the wrong gig. Hint: one could have a religious experience listening to Bonnie Bloomgarden. --Bill Holmes

The Wonder Stuff
Escape From Rubbish Island (Independent Records Ltd.)

The Wonder Stuff was supposed to be a big deal back in the late 80's/early 90's. They were stars in the UK but never made the jump to the US, maybe because they seemed like such complete pricks whose music wasn't good enough to make you forget that perception. Their return from the "where-are-they-now-not-that-anyone-really-gives-a-shit" file will likely appeal to past fans who still listen to their records, but it's hard to imagine Escape From Rubbish Island winning too many new fans. There are some decent songs here including the title track, "Better Get Ready For A Fist Fight," and "Another Comic Tragedy," but the band does nothing better than a thousand other similar melodic rock bands. The title of the record sounds like wishful thinking. (Andy Smith)

WOLF PARADE
Apologies to the Queen Mary (SUB POP)
Oh Canada, what is up with thee? (I’m not referencing the election of their new Prime Minister because who am I, as a U.S. citizen, to judge?) The new millennium comes and all of sudden they start producing premium quality pop music. We all know it didn’t really just start to happen, but it sure seems that way. Case in point: Wolf Parade. Hands down, or hands clapping high up in the air, Apologies to the Queen Mary is indeed the most electrifying and innovative album from the Montreal scene to date. Let’s just take for instance “Fancy Claps,” “Shine a Light,” and “This Heart’s on Fire”: these alone are proof in the pudding, and what scrumptious pudding it is (can pudding be scrumptious?). They generously siphon creative ingenuity from mid 70s Eno, Cale, Ferry, Reed and Bowie, then gently (because Canadians are a very gentle people) massage it with the sheer energy and passion of the Pixies and Modest Mouse. Toss the influences (and lazy journalism) aside; revealed is a potent, novel recording much deserving of all the hype surrounding it and the scene from whence it came. --Don Simpson

WONDERFUL JOHNSON
AUTHENTIC MEMPHIS SAMICH ( SELF-RELEASED)

A former member of A&M 80s act the Rescue, Tim McGeary is the man behind Wonderful Johnson and Authentic Memphis Samich, a solid if hardly groundbreaking batch of acoustic-based rockers. There's an inherent tunefulness to McGeary's songwriting that indicative of the roads he's traveled, and if rock radio and MTV playlists were stuck in 1982, they'd eat this stuff up. As it is, Wonderful Johnson presents a pleasant if inessential slice of pop songcraft.

WOODEN WAND & THE VANISHING VOICE
Buck Dharma (5RC)
Okay, I get it. Call me paranoid, but I think I’m the quote unquote go to guy for the freaked-out, trippie dippie, druggie music. I can hear the PCP editorial staff meeting now, “Jeez, who’s gonna want to write about this? What is this stuff?! It’s like Paranoid-era Sabbath during an opium-drenched recording session jamming with a bunch of hippies. All konked out of their minds, they didn’t know who, what, when or where they were. They were obviously not even paying attention to each other’s performances but the opium must have occasionally connected them on some level of consciousness and melded it all together one way or another. So who on our staff would actually want to write about this? Anyone? Anyone? Hey, let’s mail it to that guy… You know…” Yeah, uh… Thanks? Next time just send a little quote unquote something along with the freaked out music to, uh, get me in the mood. --Don Simpson

STEVE WYNN & THE MIRACLE 3
STATIC TRANSMISSION (DBK WORKS)

Twenty years after he fronted the seminal alt-rock outfit Dream Syndicate, Steve Wynn continues to create evocative and mesmerizing music with his new quartet, the Miracle 3. Static Transmission is his latest offering, the swaggering and wild sequel to the band's critically acclaimed double-CD, Here Come the Miracles. An 11-song set, Transmission pulses and rolls, fizzles and leaps with Wynn's trademark lyricism and powerful songwriting. Wynn's penchant for narrative continues to conjoin with his love of guitars, driving rhythms, and scintillating ambience. His narrative approach to rock music just gets better with each outing. On Transmission, that growth bolsters not just his rock musician status, but his stature as an artist, too. Like the minimalist paintings of Mark Rothko, Wynn's creates a peaceful calm, a sense of space without cloistering clutter, an energy borne of the minimal and the spare. But most of all, Wynn, like Rothko, glimpses at the soul, tapping into something profound and deeply human. "What Comes After" is a wispy, ethereal piano ballad that waxes poetic on life's fleeting nature. "Time gives all that it takes, Time leaves nothing in its wake, I am ready for what comes after, for what comes after" goes the chorus. It's a lovely, Job-like ode to resolution tempered with resilience. "The Ambassador of Soul" recalls the Velvet Underground, but Wynn makes the easygoing, mid-tempo, tambourine groove all his own, with a wink and nod to Mr. Reed. "One Less Shining Star" is about a man escaping public scrutiny. Quietly, under cover of night, this man disappears in a propeller plane, never to be seen again. A mean, dissonance beat follows him. "Maybe Tomorrow" speaks of one's inability to face the here-and-now. It's deeply introspective, longing and bittersweet, a touching display of vulnerability and tenderness, a chestnut tune, one for the ages. There are other gems, too. "Hollywood" is sleazy, skuzzy rocker, perfect for driving long hours. "California Style" is what it sounds like, sunny and high. And "Amphetamine" is six minutes of thunderous sonic escapism. Like Marshall Crenshaw, Elvis Costello, Paul Weller, and Robert Pollard (admitted very different songwriters all), Wynn is over 40, still active, creative, and vital--and reresenting all that is right and good in rock and roll. (John Stoehr)

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