Dirty (Deluxe Edition)
Sonic Youth
Geffen
You might say that Dirty represents Sonic Youth at its most, um, commercial. Which is a misnomer, really, because we're clearly not dealing with hit-bound ditties here. After debuting on a major label (Geffen) with Goo, SY decided to go for the full production treatment on this 1992 album. They enlisted producer Butch Vig and mixer Andy Wallace, who turned the trick for Nirvana's Nevermind. The sound is basically huge, which fits the band's cacophonous guitar onslaught, with its sprays of feedback and white noise. The bass is fat and ballsy; the drums crisp and teeth-rattling. Dirty is about as straight-up rock as Sonic Youth ever got — and to these ears that's a good thing. This Deluxe Edition reissue includes the entire 15-song album, plus several B-sides and rehearsal tapes. The second disc, cut in the band's New Jersey practice studio, is decidedly lo-fi. It offers a glimpse into SY's creative M.O., the building blocks of iconoclasm. 
—Eric Snider
War on Errorism
NOFX
Fat Wreck Chords
The venerable Northern California quartet that helped set the standard for a decade's worth of West Coast buzzsaw punk/catchy hardcore returns with a full-length that couples a familiar propensity for self-indulgence with its most overtly political material yet. The creeping sense that these guys are getting really bored with the traditional fast 'n' hooky permeates War on Errorism. Just about every track here includes a dramatic shift in style, tempo or vibe, ostensibly in the name of keeping their own boredom at bay, from the ominous breakdown of "Separation of Church and Skate" to the nearly cloying synth-pop of "Franco Un-American" and open breathing room of "Medio-core." Like most NOFX albums, this one careens between some of the strongest ("American Errorist," "We Got Two Jealous Agains," "Whoops, I OD'd") and weakest ("Mattersville," "Anarchy Camp") material of which they're capable. One of the most intriguing things about every NOFX release is that edge-of-the-seat first listen, when you wonder exactly what the hell they're gonna do next, and War on Errorism, with its inflammatory wordplay and genre-ADD riffage, is no exception. With repeated listens, however, the suspense fades, leaving the listener with a disc that seems to rely on those same elements as a defense against coming off like the countless soundalike bands this band has inspired. —Scott Harrell
ShineDaniel LanoisAnti-/EpitaphHe's best known as the producer for U2 (Joshua Tree included) and for other critically lauded albums by Bob Dylan, Peter Gabriel, the Neville Brothers and Emmylou Harris. Shine is Lanois' first solo album in 10 years, and it's a gem. Atmospheric but visceral, epic but intimate. He belongs in the vaunted pantheon of genre-dodging American artists that includes Joe Henry, Los Lobos, Chuck Prophet, Alejandro Escovedo and select others. (So what if he's French Canadian.) Shine consists mostly of ballads and midtempo numbers that walk a fine line between delicacy and tensile strength. Lanois plays most of the instruments, showcasing his subdued talents on guitar, pedal steel, gauzy keyboards and loops. He's aided by the superbly supple drummer Brian Blade. None of his sound sculpture would matter, though, without this passel of terrific songs, introspectively melodic with just enough zigs and zags to make them unique. Lanois also proves to be a deft vocalist with a chameleonic bent — high and tender in spots (calling to mind late-era Clapton ballads), vulnerable and whispery in others, sometimes conversational, occasionally ragged around the edges. Lanois rounds out Shine with a handful of subtle instrumentals that at first come off as slight, but then gain a homey charm with repeated listens. Now that he's signed to one of the coolest labels on earth (home to Tom Waits, Solomon Burke, Merle Haggard and Tricky), here's to hoping that Daniel Lanois does not wait an entire decade to put out another solo effort. 1/2—Eric Snider
50 Years of Jazz
VARIOUS ARTISTS
Delmark
The independent Delmark label has been chronicling the Chicago jazz and blues scene for a half century. To commemorate this milestone, the label has raided the vaults for a 2-CD volume of its best jazz (as well as best blues in another package). There is no "Delmark sound," per se, but the label tended to showcase robust, down-to-earth jazz with a bluesy base. These 28 songs capture pre-bop, bebop, post-bop, avant-garde and more. Perhaps the collection's most intriguing aspect is how it captures some of Chicago's most celebrated avant talent, several from the AACM (Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians) in a more straight-ahead context. To wit: saxophonist Roscoe Mitchell's "Zero" (1994), a slice of in-the-pocket bop; tenor saxophonist Zane Massey swinging it out, with nary a dangerous note, on "Lady Charlotte" (1994); pianist Muhal Richard Abrams playing breakneck post-bop on "March of the Transients" (1972). Sun Ra's "El is a Sound of Joy" (1957) has the suave feel of a '50s soundtrack. Delmark founder Bob Koester started as a big fan of polyphonic trad jazz, thus the set includes the company's first record, "Royal Garden Blues" by the Windy City Six, as well as tunes by such contemporary revivalists as Franz Jackson & the Salty Dogs and the Bay City Jazz Band. To perhaps lend more historical heft, the compilation includes '40s material from the Apollo label, now owned by Delmark — stuff from Coleman Hawkins, Dinah Washington and Illinois Jacquet that seems like an unnecessary reach for name recognition. Thankfully, 50 Years of Jazz includes superb work by younger acts Ken Vandermark (a terrific piece pitting his tenor with two drummers), Chicago Underground Trio (a nice abstract workout) and guitarist Jeff Parker (the cool, slinky "Jahne's Waltz"). 50 Years of Jazz is vivid proof that an underdog label flying largely beneath the radar can establish an important and far-reaching catalogue of music. www.delmark.com —Eric Snider
Neon GoldenThe NotwistDominoAfter hearing nothing but praise for The Notwist's Neon Golden, it was hard not to expect to be blown away by the album. It never happened. Most of the songs are quiet folk songs at the core before they were loaded with electronic textures, orchestral instruments and percussion that resemble Radiohead's Kid A. With both repetitious lyrics and percussion, with one exception, these folktronica songs fail to stand out. The banjo on "Trashing Days," along with the warmness provided by woodwind instruments, proves that the genre's song construction can be successful — when there's variety. The memorable songs occur when the band gets away from their usual. The dance beat on "Pilot" makes it pure New Order. The high point of Neon Golden comes at the poppy "One With the Freaks." The title of the song fits — it's the most radio-friendly track on the album. Neon Golden is high on providing gentle, contemplative music with a wide variety of instrumentation, but it lacks enough bright spots to shine. —Chris Berger
This article appears in Jun 5-11, 2003.