Dismemberment Plan
Change
Dismemberment Plan's eccentric hybrid of new wave sonic textures, emotive punk, prog-rock complexities and soulful rhythms have alienated some but insinuated under the skin of many. With Change, the group has evolved from a rowdy emo outfit into a formidable rock act with layered intricacies that recall Talking Heads and The Police.
Those who've come to love the Plan for the vocal freakouts and off-time beats may be disappointed, however. On Change, the band sticks to the 4/4 groove, albeit with nice syncopation, and lead singer Travis Morrison keeps the screaming down to a minimum. He does manage some shouting on Face of the Earth, a tune that rips at your heart with lyrics about a fateful, final encounter: A crazy wail, a funny shudder of a bad magnetic event/ a ghost ran through us, moving like the shadow of a cloud.
The ideas presented on Change take off from where Emergency and I left off but with more melancholy and personal anecdotes peppering the introspection. Whereas the previous CD took us to hell and back, Change dwells more on the transit between, with mostly restrained guitar and minor keys. That's not to say that Change is at all monotonous. On Secret Curse, guitarist Jason Caddell lets loose, and drummer Joe Easley pounds up a storm with nimble complements from bassist Eric Axelson. On Pay for the Piano, punchy pop hooks grab the listener with infectious urgency, and Time Bomb is a cry for help cathartic masterpiece with fuzzy guitars, keyboards and rapid beats that build to a satisfying climax.
Along with sporting a more grown-up, studio-polished power, singer Morrison gets close to the bone on some of the CD's more downbeat tunes. On Automatic a gentle acoustic strum and some sparse sci-fi sounding keyboards starkly accompany Morrison's deadpan vocal, wherein he sings, Once again the fireworks of bad ideas: you will and I won't/ light the sky with long-gone hate that comes from where it's automatic/ caught in between.
To say Change is pessimistic is a gross oversimplification. Its mood, words and instrumentation burn the past and all its unmet expectations in effigy. It's a rite of passage that that blazes hot with realization and regret.
One can't help but wonder what lies ahead for Dismemberment Plan after the smoke clears. (DeSoto, www.desotorecords.com)
—Julie Garisto
Haymarket Riot
Bloodshot Eyes
As yet, there is no indie-rock subgenre to house the noise made by Chicago foursome Haymarket Riot. And while we all know that most creative acts don't slide smoothly into the assigned slots, this is something else entirely — a weighty, willfully careening mess that works and an arty yet metallic boundary-detonation that's somehow neither pretentious nor scattered. Bloodshot Eyes can be anthemic, meandering, jaggedly groovy, mesmerizing and spastic, often within the space of a single track. Perusing any 17 seconds of any of the album's 11 selections forcibly brings to mind a bevy of disparate influences joined in unholy union, from Clutch to Drive Like Jehu, from Built To Spill to Don Caballero, from Shellac to Fireside. That the screamed/sung group vocals remain largely buried (really buried) in the mix is surely an artistic statement of some sort, and thus an occasional irritant; the music, however, is supremely enthralling. It's the kind of stuff that headphones are made for, and, in all likelihood, unforgettably volatile live shows are made of. (Thick, www.thickrecords.com)
Haymarket Riot appears at New World Brewery on Sat., Jan. 26, with The Paper Chase and The Dead America.
—Scott Harrell 
The Anniversary
Your Majesty
Pop-grounded quintet The Anniversary hails from Lawrence, Kan. — or, as it's known to legions of indie-rock pundits, Emo Central. Discovered by friends in The Get Up Kids and signed to Vagrant Records, their excellent first disc, Designing A Nervous Breakdown, ended up pigeonholed more by its associations than its energetic synth-assisted pop sound. Subsequent singles (and last October's split CD with Tennessee pop-rockers Superdrag), however, found the quintet experimenting with a wider sonic palette, leading to rampant speculation about its sophomore album's sound. And while Your Majesty continues The Anniversary's mastery with the hooks, that's about all it has in common with its predecessor. Composed almost completely of eclectic mid-tempo rock, the full-length is a startlingly mature and ambitious effort from four guys and one girl who could've made their audience perfectly happy with a repeat performance. Your Majesty butts classic pop and rock influences up against multifaceted arrangements; from the big swagger of Crooked Crown to the dreamy keyboards of The Siren Sings and noisy mod feel of Devil On My Side, the disc covers a lot of ground. But everything hangs together with a timeless vibe that only comes from listening to a lot of great records countless times — fans of rogue pop from Elvis Costello and The Beatles to Wilco and Jets To Brazil will find this one worthwhile. (Vagrant, www.vagrant.com)
—Scott Harrell 
Charles Mingus
Tijuana Moods
Recorded in 1957 but not released until 1962, Tijuana Moods is one of the better examples in the vast Mingus catalogue of what has come to be called world jazz. Inspired by a road trip Mingus took through the Mexican border town, the album plants its feet squarely in the blues-based post-bop that was Mingus' stock-in-trade, then outfits it with south-of-the-border accents and colors. The disc's best example of this cultural cross-pollination is Ysabel's Table Dance, with its castanet-driven Spanish groove and bass riff, augmented by a swirling, open-ended horn arrangement. The ensemble (trombonist Jimmy Knepper, drummer Dannie Richmond, saxophonist Shafi Hadi, trumpeter Clarence Shaw, pianist Bill Triglia) is supremely integrated throughout the sessions, relying more on a relaxed flow than an edgy pushing of boundaries. The melodies and arrangements are simply stellar. A good two-thirds or more of this two-disc set is taken up by alternate takes, false starts, breakdowns and rehearsals, material meant to benefit the most ardent of completists. A single disc that included well-chosen outtakes would've made for a better package overall, but, hey, why quibble?
—Eric Snider
This article appears in Jan 24-30, 2002.