One Beat
SLEATER-KINNEY
Kill Rock Stars
Once linchpins of the mid "90s riot grrl scene, Sleater-Kinney seem more comfortable as one of the best rock bands around today, and that comfort translates into records that are stronger and more poised each time.
In addition to Carrie Brownstein's guitar heroics and Janet Weiss' sophisticated drum work, Corin Tucker's vocals continue to be honed to perfection for each track. Her wail should be righteously enshrined in punk's canon. She owns every lyric, spitting them out with piercing precision or girlish mischief. Tucker's spirit is enduringly punk, though SK chooses to explore the limits of rock further.
The band's politics have always embraced both the personal and universal, which from the mouth of a woman (fairly or not, and intended or not) inevitably invokes an overtone of the feminist slogan "the personal is political." "Far Away" is a remarkably intimate and universal 9/11 anthem for all of us who weren't there: "And the president hides/ while working men rush in/ to give their lives/ I look to the sky/ and ask it not to rain/ on my family tonight." "Oh!" is a playful mash note to a longtime lover, while the haunting "Sympathy" is so full of tension it seems ready to burst, as Tucker howls to an uncertain god for the life of a child.
After courtships with major record labels, Sleater-Kinney chose to stay on the small imprint Kill Rock Stars in order to better control their fate. Like sister music industry maverick Ani DiFranco, they make music on their own terms and wait for the world to come to them. In a better world it would only be a matter of time before everyone does. 
1/2 —Quincey Vierling
Lost in Space
AIMEE MANN
SuperEgo/V2
Most famous for uttering the words, "Hush, hush. Keep it down now," Aimee Mann has come a long way from her erstwhile band "Til Tuesday — even if FM radio and major labels haven't given her rightful props. She's worked with Elvis Costello and composed the stirring tunes in the major motion picture Magnolia. But, hey, quality and profits have as much to do with each other as Britney Spears does with an acoustic guitar. Let's say we just leave the strumming to Aimee. On Lost in Space, delicate instrumentation and soft electronic touches transform tunes such as "Guys Like Me" and "This Is How It Goes" into sensual explorations. For the uninitiated, Mann's sweet, often flat vocal delivery may be too middle-of-the-road for some and too off-kilter for others. No one, however, can deny her penchant for Beatles-style melody and clever vocal phrasing. Mann's lyrics are revelatory, not obvious. She waxes metaphorically on addiction, self-defense mechanisms and other human frailties. What keeps Lost in Space from being great, however, is its lack of dynamics. The CD could've benefited from more spaces and emphasis. Mann plays in the hiding places, making it difficult to find her. But in the end, the search is well worth it. 
—Julie Garisto
The Right Amount
BON VOYAGE
Tooth & Nail Records
While the excellent Starflyer 59 quietly became cult heroes by constructing ambitious, semi-psychedelic college-pop to rival that of Nada Surf or The Weakerthans, guitarist Jason Martin even more quietly joined forces with his wife, Julie, to craft airy and saccharine tuneage as Bon Voyage. The Right Amount, their second full-length and third release overall, is a bit like a room ostentatiously overdone in hip Art Deco style — it's light and silly, but deliberate, effective and enjoyable nonetheless. Assisted by Jason's brother (and Joy Electric principal) Ronnie on keyboards, the Martins deftly swath sturdy songwriting in airy illusion, making the tracks appear fragile and trendy. At the core, they're neither, but the clever arrangements and breathy female vocals lend a convincingly insubstantial vibe, Esquivel for the indie-pop set, or perhaps the soundtrack to an alternate-universe Twin Peaks with a happy ending. It's not going to catalyze any serious emotional catharsis, but it'll probably make great listening for that nicely subdued late-night after-party. (www.toothandnail.com) 
—Scott Harrell
Lift Every Voice
CHARLES LLOYD
ECM
Besides Coltrane, Charles Lloyd was the jazz musician who resonated most with "60s flower people. You can still hear vestiges of his innate trippiness in Lift Every Voice, a two-disc opus that encompasses spirituals, rock, pop, R&B, folk, protest songs and more. The mostly introspective sojourn holds up extremely well over 130 minutes. The 64-year-old saxophonist uses a breathy tone and unhurried phrasing to build warm, exploratory solos. He takes lush passes at "You are So Beautiful" and "What's Going On;" retains the stateliness of "Lift Every Voice and Sing," and, after a free-rhythm intro, crafts "Go Down Moses" into a strutting blues. Perhaps the most engaging pieces are Lloyd originals: the opener, "Hymn to the Mother," slowly unfolds into a luscious, 15-minute, space-jazz workout. Guitarist John Abercrombie, — the MVP of a fabulous band that includes drummer Billy Hart, pianist Geri Allen and bassists Marc Johnson and Larry Grenadier — opens the song with Garcia-esque meanderings. (As if to prove this is no typical jazz record, Lloyd wanders in about the five-minute mark with a pensive long tone.) "East Virginia, West Memphis," takes on a more ominous vibe, with Abercrombie kicking in the fuzz tone for an extended intro. After he and Lloyd spar for a while, the band slides into a jaunty shuffle for superb outings on sax and guitar, the two most aggro solos on the album. Not many so-called jazz musicians would attempt a project of such daunting scope. Lift Every Voice is testimony to Lloyd's enduring brilliance. —Eric Snider
This article appears in Nov 20-26, 2002.