The listener's travels across this sonic "Continent" begin with the sound of a needle touching down on a turntable and scratchily moving through the grooves of a vinyl record. It's an appropriate beginning to the CD because the band has become that needle. A needle falls into the grooves of a record and stays there non-stop until the end of the record. Similarly, Schleigho locks into a mesmerizing groove immediately from the opening notes and doesn't let that groove stop until the CD is finished.

When electric jazz funk and fusion was at its peak in the mid '70s, the CD player was not even invented yet. Most of that classic music was originally available only on vinyl records. It may be the millennium but on "Continent" Schleigho transports you back to that time. They have created a fantastic instrumental CD of thick funk, heavy rock, and progressive fusion.

Keyboardist Jesse Gibbon uses a Clavinet, Rhodes and Hammond Organ to paint the luscious landscape of Continent. Suke Cerulo adds flute and guitar to provide the fresh air and blue sky above and drummer Erik Egol and bassist Matt Rubano keep the ground firm with their fat funk rhythms.

All you need to explore this massive musical "Continent" is a set of open ears. Just close your eyes and let your ears navigate the aural environment. And it is indeed a diverse "Continent" that needs to be fully explored. The CD has its dark evil moments, its happy ecstatic moments, and its pure funk moments. When Suke Cerulo adds his beautiful flute melodies the music is ethereal, light and airy. His flute floats above the rest of the instruments and reaches for the sky. Jesse Gibbon's keyboards can take the music in several different directions.

While on the Rhodes he floats up to the sky along with Cerulo's flute but on the Hammond Organ he supplies the fat funk that will keep any bar dancing. And versatile bassist Matt Rubano can play delicate melodic bass or join in on the funk. Drummer Erik Egol anchors it all with his pounding funk drums or delicate jazz colorings.

There are three different songwriters in Schleigho and their sophisticated arrangements and strong melodies make much of this CD something special. This is not to say that this is a perfect record. Some listeners may find Schleigho's drastic, turn-on-a-dime changes leave them too off-kilter, while others may lament the fact that the band pursues such an angular approach on most every song, so there is some similarity from track to track. The most original sounding parts of this record seem to be when the band is playing lovely, breezy, delicate songs. They are songs that remind you of a driving a convertible on a Sunday afternoon or make you feel like you are flying. Schleigho have discovered their own unique jazz "Continent". And it is certainly a place worth exploring over again and again.

"Reckoning" - the live, all-acoustic double-LP recorded by the Grateful Dead in the autumn of 1980 - is an utterly comfortable album that perfectly exemplifies the warmest, most familiar corner of the weird Grateful Dead universe -- the part that felt most like a traditional church (as opposed to the unutterably strange blood-letting voodoo rituals of "Infrared Roses" or the "Live/Dead" Dark Star). "Reckoning" gets the bulk of its play in my house in the early hours of the morning, literal and figurative -- either as I'm lying in bed trying to have my eyes closed before the sun comes creeping through window or when I've just rolled over the next afternoon and would prefer to laze about.

"Might As Well... the Persuasions Sing Grateful Dead" fills the same niche. Almost. It's relaxed in a very similar way, but without the lush darkness that underlies some of the playing on "Reckoning". Either way, it's a kind of Grateful Dead that you can play for your mother. As with the other David Gans-produced album of this year ("Stolen Roses"), the focus here is the songs -- once again almost Garcia/Hunter songs at that. Indeed, so many of their songs seem to come from an unplaceable time in American popular music -- somewhere after the introduction of electric instruments but before the advent of rock and roll. As such, their songs lend themselves to a kind of interpretation well-suited to the harmonies of an a cappella group. If ever given the chance, I'd definitely like to hear the Persuasions tackle some of the dense chord progressions written by Weir. I think it'd bring the elegant strangeness of Bobby's songs.

The band does their best when tackling the Jerry ballads: Brokedown Palace, Sugaree, It Must've Been The Roses, Black Muddy River - and, quite specifically - Lazy River Road and Ship Of Fools -- undoubtedly the two highlights of the disc. The Lazy River Road is a revelation, a sublime rendition of a song that was never fully realized by its author, a song that should've been included on "Europe '72" if it wasn't written 20 years too late.

Persuasions' leader and arranger, Jerry Lawson, delivers his verses with an unerring intelligence. The only downside of the version is the verse sung by "human sub-woofer" Jimmy Hayes. Hayes's voice is incredibly low and gorgeously resonant, but - in this case - it seems that that was the deciding factor in giving him a verse. His voice bottoms out into an unfortunate kitschiness. It's forgivable, though, if only because of Hayes's solo performance later on the disc, a rendition of Ship Of Fools.

The song is a duet between Hayes and the piano of the Dead's last keyboardist, Vince Welnick. As a member of the Dead, Welnick was plagued by downright icky keyboard sounds. This performance does a lot to convince me that if the Dead had simply dropped him behind a grand piano, he wouldn't have come off so damn badly. His playing here is sensitive, restrained, and brilliant -- much more than any performance I've heard of Bruce Hornsby. This rendition of the tune does a lot to place the Grateful Dead in the linear stream of American popular music: something so heart-achingly sweet that would feel equally as right with a mournful saxophone or barroom lap steel.

Yes, there are instruments on the disc besides the Persuasions' voices. They come off with varying degrees of success. The liner notes quote Lawson as saying "let's put everything into the stew and see how it tastes". Most of the non-vocal ingredients fare best when they are used sparingly, such as Welnick's work on Ship Of Fools or David Gans's beautifully translucent guitar on Sugaree. Both One More Saturday Night and Bertha suffer from over-production, sounding too much like some damn good vocalists laid on top of a halfway decent band. Joe Craven of the David Grisman Quintet provides some vocal percussion on these tunes. Sure, it's neat that he can make these noises with his mouth... but they still sound like a drum machine.

Another problem with the album is a kind of jerking tempo-related inconsistency. This problem could be a Deadhead-predisposition towards original arrangements. He's Gone feels too damn fast, as does Brokedown Palace. Both should be savored. Ripple does, too, though not as much. I definitely yearned for the funeral dirge tempo of Sex Mob's fine version. The arrangement provides for an interesting twist, though. Just as the original version on "American Beauty" builds towards an unplaceable choir singing the refrain, the Persuasions' version works up to the introduction of instruments (Eric Thompson's mandolin and Pete Grant's dobro) for a sweet ending to the tune.

This is an album that a certain breed of non-Deadheads will enjoy. Of them, though, I really wonder how well the album will sell. Tribute albums tend to do well among the fanbase of the band who are being paid tribute to. As the genuine Grateful Dead recede further and further into the past, the proliferation of their songs continues on, well on their way to entering the common consciousness. In a sense, what artists like the Persuasions (as well as people like David Murray, Steven Bernstein, and Joe Gallant) are doing with the material is more interesting than most of the post-Dead configurations. I can't wait to see what comes next.

Lauan Records is a valiant effort at a creating a community of unified JamBands under one label. Their aim is to help in the promotion , distribution, and ultimately aiding the JamBands in gaining recognition on a wider scale than would be available to them on their own otherwise limited resources. One of the ways they help to accomplish this is the release of compilation CD's of some of there more promising bands. You can rest assured that you are almost always going to get a great mix as a result. Not only is it in the record company's best interest to release some of their best artists, but to price them to sell quickly as well. This, in fact, can be obtained for a mere $8.00 direct from the web site.

Of course, another thing that bears mention is that, being fans of JamBands, the least compelling thing about this particular genre of music is that so much of the experience is in the live performance, that studio recordings sometimes... most times.... don't do any justice. The bands contained in this sampler are in fact culled from live performances, just adding a little more fuel to the fire.

The bands themselves are Larry from Austin, Texas; Ancient Harmony from Albany, Georgia; and Wise Monkey Orchestra from San Diego, California, respectively. Larry opens the CD with three cuts, all of which highlight the deep groove these guys are capable of. Most worthy of mention is the opening track Just Ask Yourself (what jammin' can do for you), a tune that reaches out in to deep funky grooves that show me just what real JamBands can sound like when it all gels just right! Seven is also meant to go on for longer than it's 10:41 time allowance, just to allow the percussionists to properly stretch their legs.

Ancient Harmony is up next, but with only one cut... all 25:55 of it! It reminds me of an interview with Dick Latvala regarding one of the "Dick's Picks" releases where he said something like: "Christ's sake, you got a 25 minute Playin' In The Band on there, what more do you want?!" Now I'm not saying that this jam measures up to a good '74 Playin' In The Band, but you gotta figure that the label had something to prove by putting this on a promotional release. All I'm gonna say is, if a good long groove interests you... get it! Christ's sake, it's only eight bucks, what more do you want?

Last but certainly not least is Wise Monkey Orchestra with four cuts of their own, complete with horns and wonderfully soulful vocals. Some of Wise Monkey Orchestra's appeal seems to lie in there ability to make everything a little slower and funky. There is a kind of inner-city blues feel that resonates from the organ and horn mix, not to mention the deep back-bone the bass player lays down again and again.

"Three Sets" is a great compilation at a steal of a price, something more record labels should invest into doing. It made a convert out of me when I first discovered Grisman's own Acoustic Disc sampler's, and I can easily see the same thing happening again here. Assuming the quality stays at the level it is here, Lauan Records could easily grab a big share of the JamBands market.

Shields' Paradox states that a band as a whole can become more musically mature even as their music itself becomes more hyperactive and schizophrenic. The latest by the New Deal (whose keyboardist lends his name to this newly minted theorem) - a new live EP, recorded in April 2000 - is a case-in-point proof of this. On the new EP, the New Deal's usually utterly patient grooves are shot up with some wonderfully speedy drug and stretched taut. Usually, a move like this - from a calculated evenness to a twisted explosion of loosely connected melodic ideas - can be seen as a regression. In this situation, though, that is not the case. The New Deal's first release - 1999's "This Is Live" - captured the band's first session together, a series of improvisations spliced and titled. These improvisations became the New Deal's first batch of "songs". As far as songs go, they aren't overly complex. For the most part, since then, the songs have retained the same vibe the original date was imbued with. The second release, an EP recorded in December 1999, elaborated on this with an elegant, spacey confidence, acting as a linear continuation, though not necessarily progression, of this vibe. Now, granted, this is a cool vibe -- but, for a band whose bread and butter is improvisation, one feel simply won't cut it. Thankfully, the new EP represents a vast change. At the center here is keyboardist Jamie Shields, who seems to have finally tamed his vast arsenal of keyboards. Where on the band's previous two discs it almost seemed as if he was a keyboard player thinking in terms of electronic music, it now seems as if he is an electronic musician thinking in terms of a keyboard. The difference is subtle but almost undeniable. In terms of phrasing, it seems as if he was previously still adjusting to a sample mentality -- taking a phrase and hammering it into trance-like bliss through repetition. In that, the band's parts seemed a little disconnected from each other. On the new disc, it seems like he is recognizing the flow and life of the parts a little bit more, willing to let them twist around each other in active ways, letting almost imperceptible variations breathe with the changes. The music is significantly less trancey and relaxing as it was in the past. This ain't a chill-out album. Drummer Darren Shearer jerks from groove to groove in a manner that makes it awfully hard to dance to. I wonder how the crowd in Guelph reacted to this music. There are definitely moments of airy bliss. The Escape, for example (making its first appearance on a New Deal disc), which begins - as far as I can tell - just after Shearer's live vocal "sample" about "Peter and the Wolf", acts as a nice valley after the wild peaks of Ravine -- this rendition of which is about twice as fast as the one on the Maine EP. The overall tone is brighter than the New Deal have been before and might well serve as a good introduction for someone who isn't all too familiar with their material. The improvisation definitely holds attention and progresses in a way somewhat foreign to the New Deal's thoroughly modern grooves. If the band can manage to hold onto to some of these vivacious spaces such that they can explore them with more complexity, they'll have a dangerous groove on their hands. It'd be interesting to see the band introduce more complex songwriting into their repertoire. They're certainly capable. Ultimately, it'd be nice to see them evolve into an electroed-out version of the Slip, who can (and do) play off the feel of the room with more efficiency than anybody on the circuit. The Slip, though, have become increasingly more grounded in proper songs of late (or maybe it's the shows I've ended up at). As the New Deal develops their voice - their various voices - it'd be wonderful to see them turn into a house band for this kind of exploration.

Albums like this one are refreshing. The music world is lucky to have daring, talented guys like David "Fuze" Fiuczynski around to rattle the cage every once in a while. As the title implies, "Jazz Punk" is a mixed breed of sorts, combining some well-known jazz sounds and standards with modern, unorthodox arrangements. The incredible finger speed and skill of Fiuczynski on guitar are belied by his taste for the esoteric. His projects in the past have ranged from ground-breaking work as leader of the Screaming Headless Torsos, to a more straightforward jazz collaboration with John Medeski. Here he gives plenty of new twists to tunes written by Chick Corea, Duke Ellington, John Phillip Sousa, and even Chopin. While the approach could be considered "punk" in attitude, I wouldn't compare it with classic punk from the early 80's. The sounds are far too complex, yet do not get lost in translation.

The album starts out with a Pat Metheny tune Bright Size Life, one of the longer tracks on the album. Fiuczynski works it over very well, combining some reverb and distortion effects to loop around his guitar soloing. He expands the jam a bit, bringing things tighter, then looser in orbit. This is followed appropriately enough by the classic Hendrix jam, 3rd Stone From The Sun. Here too, the song starts out dreamily enough before a vigorous breakdown in the middle, and final bass lead at the end. I do believe that an experimental musical pioneer like Hendrix would've appreciated what "Fuze" did with his song here.

Fiuczynski uses more than one lineup of musicians to support him on the album. On the third track, Prelude Op. 28 #4, by Chopin, he plays delicate, intricate guitar lines while Billy Hart on drums is his only accompaniment. Short but sweet, this track shows how many different approaches "Fuze" was willing to take toward the material. Star-Crossed Lovers gives "Fuze" a chance to switch gears yet again. Here he two-steps with Santi Debriano on the stand-up bass. Fiuczynski drifts in and out of key to represent the dueling themes at play in the Duke Ellington/Billy Strayhorn original.

In contrast, Chick Corea's La Fiesta is a tantalizing salsa number with a furious drum and percussion beat provided by Gene Lake and Daniel Sadownick, respectively. There, Fiuczynski picks quickly up and down the guitar to emulate the same kind of technique Corea used when he played it on the piano. Stars and Stripes Whenever is a clever take-off on the patriotic John Phillip Sousa tune bearing a similar name. Here, too, "Fuze" plays the parts of an entire orchestra all by himself. Needless to say, it takes both incredible finger speed and a well-trained ear to pull this off while retaining a sense of respect for the material.

The remaining songs on the album, Jungle Gym Jam and Hipgnosis are also worth mention. The former is the only original composition of Fiuczynski's on the album, while the latter contains a instrumental breakdown and reconstruction that includes Rufus Cappadocia on cello. Overall, this is a very interesting album to be appreciated especially by open-minded jazz fans. It goes to show that you can take 9 tunes that are disparate both thematically and technically, and rearrange them to give totally new meanings in each case. This is a great album for those looking for a little something different to spice up their music collection.

"Dancing" by Mike Keneally and Beer For Dolphins is gut-wrenchingly bad. It's a shame, too, because Keneally is a helluva guitarist and a wonderful composer. Often times, negative reviews 'round here tend to say things along the likes of "this band is really tight but their songs are just bland". That doesn't entirely apply, but it comes closer to being true here as it does in any other case I've heard. With most discs that fall into that unfortunate category, there is no evidence that the band in question is capable of producing genuinely original music. In Keneally's case, he has proved quite able of such a task.

Fresh off of the wildly inventive "Nonkertompf" (1999), "Dancing" finds Keneally toning his cartoonish pieces down into something absurdly pandering. In places, bits of insane Zappa-like composition break through the murk, but - in general - it seems to be a fight for them to get through. On Pretty Enough For Girls, the second song on the second "side", interesting little breaks alternate with typically sluggish songwriting. The instrumental that follows, Taster, just feels lifeless until about three minutes into the piece. From there, it picks up.

To his credit, Keneally doesn't seem to fall into the all-too-easy trap for guitarists of his caliber to get snared in: insignificant songs with wanky guitar solos. No, the songs just seem to be insignificant here. An odd sign that the music is beginning to cook is the sudden appearance of vibes or other melodic percussion. It works invariably like a leitmotif. They come on and, miraculously, the song veers into coolness -- such as on Taster or We'll Be Right Back.

Something to consider before continuing: Keneally was Frank Zappa's "stunt guitarist" on several of FZ's later tours. I hate to bring that up as a point of reference, as I'm sure Keneally has worked long and hard to separate himself from Frank, but it seems relevant. A lot people who describe themselves as "respecting" Zappa's musicianship while claiming his sense of humor detracts from being able to take him seriously often pose the question of "what if FZ tried to be serious?". Regretfully, I think the result would sound like "Dancing".

Though the production here is extremely bright sounding and crisp - like Paul Fox's work on They Might Be Giants' "John Henry" (1994) and Phish's "Hoist" (1994) - a lot of the sounds themselves seem to be anchored in the 1980s, over-processed guitars and keyboards squealing and pirouetting in unison with a cold precision. FZ's music tended to reflect his lyrics, and the same is true here. Unfortunately, the lyrics here just don't work. They're not so much cliché as they are inconsequential. I don't like it when reviews quote lyrics out of context and deride them, so I won't. The imagery just isn't striking and the word play is clumsy at best.

The album is arranged into four "sides", as if it were a double-LP. As such, the mostly instrumental third "side" does the best. It is here that Keneally also falls into the wanker trap (specifically on the Brown Triangles)... but because he's such a good guitarist, it works. At its peak, the song feels very much in the same vein as FZ's Inca Roads. Selfish Otter, the lead off track on "side" three is the highlight. It's challenging and cool.

All of this begs the question: does a song's structure have to be strikingly new to be good? Of course not. But even songs with traditional verse-chorus-verse structures can challenge the ear and the mind. This album feels like Keneally's attempt at writing songs with accessible structures and, err, "soulful" vocals. It's overwrought. It feels disingenuous. There was more emotion in one two-minute schizophrenic track on "Nonkertompf" than there is on all of this disc's impassioned vocals.

And something about the packaging smells like glossy baseball cards. That's good. If you miss that smell, buy this album.

Over the last few years, the East Coast has stolen the thunder within the jamband scene. While some claim an East Coast bias, very few bands of merit to the jamband scene comes from the West; an outré dilemma considering the ancestors of the scene started in San Francisco. Within the diverse state of California, the only jam related bands receiving accolades are Convoy, the Mother Hips and of course the Steve Kimock Band, while the latter could be considered the only true jamband of the three listed.

One may not have the intellectual foresight to decide on whether or not Government Grown will be the first West Coast band to garner attention on the East Coast. Listening to "New Pieces of Clay," the music seems eclectic, a homegrown blend of Pink Floyd and King Sunny Ade, which sounds infectious enough to attract the fickle music listeners within the jamband scene.

Opening with So Do I, Government Grown reveals their mind-numbing mix of psychedelia and polyethnic rhythms. As Jeremy Moss adds tribal rhythms and sings about a verdant jungle, Tyler Hardwick plays some rather esoteric guitar lines, which combined with Moss rhythms sounds neoteric but not egregious. Suddenly So Do I reaches the chorus, where horns accentuate Moss singing, pushing the song into African arenas. In fact, if a listener merely heard the chorus, s/he would never realize the thick psychedelia found in the songs verses. Upon reaching So Do Is brief jam section, Government Grown moves gently into a trance feel, reminiscent of a more relaxed Sector 9. In merely five minutes, the band moved deftly between multiple genres, but never at a pace which felt erratic or non-mellifluous.

The finest track on the album could be the Pink Floyd sounding, Take Me To the Moon. Lyrically, the song has intense poetics which yield mental images far beyond the banal lyrics contained in many musical compositions. By surrealistically mixing ethereal images with common everyday objects, the lyrics are reminiscent of an Andre Breton poem. The music then adds more emotionality to the song, forcing the lyrics to the cosmos where the words will wander on their own. Eventually, Take Me To the Moon has a transcendental quality, which makes one realize the sensitivity and mental comfort of Government Grown's music.

After such a transcending composition, Government Grown continues the journey with the equally elegiac New Pieces of Clay. Mellow and sonically multi-layered, once again Government Grown reveals their Pink Floyd side. Containing saxophone, congas and a multitude of guitar effects, the song takes you from the moon to the untraversed territories of the subconscious.

While "New Pieces of Clay" continually enters into the relaxing and gorgeous sonic idioms of Pink Floyd, the bands love of African music and reggae finds prominence on the album. Tracks like Africa ,Gamepark and Tigers Eye Dub pull the listener from reflection to moving their feet. Of interest, Africa has a joyous souskous feel, calling to mind the wonderfully infectious music of South Africa which Paul Simon brought to the ears of many Americans. Similarly, Gamepark contains African guitar filigrees, which calls to mind the traditional African song Mozambique. As Government Grown does throughout the album, the band mixes Gameparks African elements with ska horns, only to lead the listener into a full trance section. In a written context the changes must sound alarming, but such musical mixtures and movements reveal the true genius of Government Grown. Even a simple dub, like Tiger's Eye Dub sounds strangely psychedelic and far more interestingly sonically then most works created by Augustus Pablo, the disputable master of dub.

The public will certainly dictate the fate of Government Grown's music created by Jeremy Moss, Tyler Hardwick, Harley Orion and Evan Polselli. Based on the large amount of horrid music enjoyed by the public, it would be a travesty if "New Pieces of Clay" did not reach a large audience to absorb the beauty of the bands new album. Maybe Government Grown will forge across the Rocky Mountain Divide. If not, Californians will be able to keep quite a good secret to themselves.

Joel Dorn, the compiler and annotator of this CD, and the producer of many of the original tracks, is a character. He made his mark with many oddball jazz productions in the 60's and 70's - the one that springs to mind is Rahsaan Roland Kirk's "The Three-Sided Dream In Audio Color", sort of an attempted jazz "Sgt. Pepper" that did in fact include three sides, as well as monologues, interludes featuring cosmic lawnmowers, and the like.

Unfortunately, Dorn's liner notes have more personality and guts than much of the music on this collection of "funky flute grooves." For instance, Herbie Mann's Comin' Home Baby from 1961, the biggest hit here, is a seductive tune, but Mann's sound is small and his licks don't work up much steam. His playing on Push Push, a decade later, has more body, and Duane Allman gets a solo (is there a need to say more?). It's hard to do much with the one-chord groove, though, especially over the course of eight minutes.

Similar problems exist throughout. The Kirk cuts prove (in case anyone didn't know) that he was the source of Ian Anderson's best tricks, but Anderson put his chops to more inventive use than a straight cover of Ain't No Sunshine. Kirk's other track, One Ton, does indeed get lewd, and Yusef Lateef gets points on Eboness for exploiting the flute's moodiness rather than settling for the lightness of the rest of the disc. And there are some good grooves : the funk guys (bassist Chuck Rainey and drummer Bernard Purdie appear twice, and "Tootie" Heath supplies a strong 16th note pulse under Lateef's Nubian Lady) outshine the jazz guys (Keith Jarrett and Jack DeJohnette appear in their initial gig with Charles Lloyd, and Chick Corea plays behind Hubert Laws, but none of them get the chance to go deep).

For some truly heavy flute, try Gazzeloni from Eric Dolphy's Out To Lunch. It wouldn't have fit here, though - it's not in Atlantic's vaults (Dorn's source), and it's a bit low on groove, as well as potential for appropriation by today's crop of smug postmodern (mostly) white guys.

The face of country music will change, because Lucinda Williams and Jennie Stearns exist. While the former has reached high status within the music industry, the latter performer will certainly be the next to ascend into singer/songwriter stardom. Stearns, whose voice calls to mind Kim Richey, Lucinda Williams and Emmylou Harris, makes country music containing purity and emotion. Each song on her latest release "Mourning Dove Songs" pulls the listener into a vast mustard field to contemplate life and deep blue skies.

Opening with a simple acoustic guitar strumming and a steady bass line, Georgia Pine envelops the listener in familiar folk sonic textures. As Stearns croons about times past and the change of the landscape, her vocals sound sorrowful; revealing an earnestness seemingly absent in many singers complacent vocal treatments. The stark instrumentation begs the doleful feel, forcing the listener to feel the same depressing loneliness Stearns deftly describes with her poetics.

An argument will certainly ensue here by the reader: Does a vocalist always need to sound depressed and downtrodden? Certainly not; but must radio stations infiltrate childhood minds with tongue-in-cheek, childish singing. In a sense, to make a definitive paradigmatic shift, the listener must choose the absolute opposite from "standard music." Such a comment could bulwark the apparent problems with Phish and a multitude of jambands from a vocal perspective. When Trey Anastasio sings about Nellie Kane, the listener does not receive the same sincerity as Tim O'Brien's treatment of the classic bluegrass song, where O'Brien wails and moans in an Appalachian style.

Another result of non-sincerity in vocals becomes the degradation of the lyrical content. In many ways, words can become only words, especially when emotions become obviated. The belief in the lyrics, by filling each song with realistic imagery and then singing in a heart-wrenching manner, Stearns makes the listener feel truthfulness; a desire to make a point, instead of creating a postmodern briocollage where a bunch of words merely adding texture.

Songs like Madness, Knoxville Girl(Parting Gift) and Angel With a Broken Wing, float together seamlessly, inundating the listeners emaciated mind. Each song allows the listener multiple connotations; thoughts of hope collide with thoughts of irreconcilable anger. Every song becomes a well to analyze thoughts and feeling, soul and self through a healthy, pleasurable lens.

Continually, Stearns and her talented band lead the listener through the highways of America. Constantly reminding the listener of Emmylou Harris "Live at the Ryman," both texturally and production wise. In "Morning Dove Songs," Stearns has achieved the penultimate goal: creating spellbinding music while adhering to her artistic integrity. The result could be considered a gem within the alt-country genre, and a taste of beauty every listener could use.

A former associate of Jimmy Giuffre and the Either/Orchestra (where he rubbed shoulders with John Medeski), bassist/composer Bob Nieske presents a set of relaxed free jazz. This CD picks up on some experimental ideas that remained undeveloped after the early 60's, but Nieske and his cohorts lean towards the introspective rather than the aggressive.

Nieske's themes are generally brief and often leave him and trio members Phil Grenadier (trumpet) and Nat Mugavero (drums) free to improvise without chord changes. Mugavero has a distinctive time-keeping approach, while Nieske pulls off the unpretentious style which he describes as a goal in his liner notes. Grenadier combines Miles Davis's moodiness with some hints of Freddie Hubbard's chops and Don Cherry's eccentricity.

To spice things up, the Lydian String Quartet contributes to half the tracks on this CD. (If I understand the notes correctly, they overdubbed their parts just over a year after the trio session.) Here Nieske harkens back to the long-forgotten notion of "third-stream" jazz, and occasionally falls prey to the same problems that hampered that style - the strings are a bit heavy for the whimsical title track. Elsewhere, as on the Round Midnight-ish ballad I Don't Know and the intriguing Astor, the strings and the trio combine in more interesting ways than Nieske's third-stream predecessors, which too often failed to integrate the elements (modern classical and jazz) at hand.

The best testimony to the trio's versatility is the two takes of The Stretch - the first (with strings) evokes a very Miles-ish statement from Grenadier, while the second (trio only) develops from a bass solo into some empathetic three-way improvisation that goes in an entirely different direction. Worth delving into.

Sativa Brand is a newly formed band from the southern California area. They are a self proclaimed "soulful blend of R&B, Rock, Pop & Funk". The release "A Night at the Flopera" is a four song demo they have released on the world, and it is mainly a collection of short cuts aimed to give the listener an idea of their sound, without being too costly. Unfortunately that's all it does.

The first cut The One starts off with the line "Something's happening here..." which immediately smacks of Buffalo Springfield's For What It's Worth. With a combination of slap-bass and a generic sounding guitar and drum mix, they launch into questioning chorus of "Where did our love go?... Where did our love go?" that could (I can only assume) be expanded into something intriguing with some extended experimentation and effort.

The mix itself, is clean and wonderfully mastered. There is no doubt that, sound-wise, the band has something to offer the music world, but the songs themselves end up mired in the realm of basic rock song. The song Bougainvillea seems to be the only one with any real deviation from the well-worn sound that emanates from the rest of the disc, as I hardly noticed the segue from cuts one to two. Both sounded so similar that they were difficult to discern from each other in many respects. Finally the sampler wraps itself up with Kickin' My Heart Around, another cut that reminds me more of the stuff that Starship released in the mid-80's, than of anything progressive and fresh enough to get any serious radio play these days.

Wherever Sativa Brand heads with their music, I personally hope they open themselves up to the rest of the musical world for some additional influences. Where there is talent and sound, there is also plenty of room for content and quality.