Unsane Scattered, Smothered and Covered (Amphetamine Reptile)

The new Unsane album is as brutal as the cover depiction of a bloody, hammer-smashed infant. Its style harkens back to the New York City sound of the mid-1980s, a punk/metal hybrid epitomized by such bands as the Crumbsuckers, Sick Of It All and Damage.

The first three songs on the disc may take some longtime fans for a twist. The production, normally as distorted as possible, is much cleaner than usual. The bass has no distortion, the guitars are less fuzzy and you can almost decipher Chris Spencer’s lyrics. The result is as shocking as the Peanut’s Pigpen taking a bath.

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But the fourth, fifth and sixth songs return to the classic Unsane style. The snarling bass, tuned much lower than the prescribed E, is so heavy on Get Off My Back that you can almost see it coming out of the speakers. The slow, two-chord rhythm is punctuated by harmonics from the guitar, and drummer Vincent Signorelli pounds the floor tom and bass drum with the energy of a souped-up pneumatic hammer.

The remaining songs alternate between clean and dirty, fast and slow, and screaming and moaning.

There’s enough variation on the release to avoid the redundancy of the group’s last effort, Total Destruction, but each song retains the distinct Unsane signature. If you have a neighbor that’s been keeping you awake at night, load this up in the stereo at 7 a.m. and fire away.

The Bottle Rockets The Brooklyn Side (Tag / Atlantic)

Imagine a country band playing blues music with a couple of electric guitars so their sound flirts with rock. This is what happens with the Bottle Rockets album, The Brooklyn Side.

The song Welfare Music sounds like a country ballad sung by a country band, and the very next track, Gravity Fails, starts with electric guitars going crazy, showing off the versatility of the singer. The group sounds like a more relaxed version of Blues Traveler.

I’ll Be Comin’ Around combines all of the talents of the band to form what they are best at playing small town music in a big way. The band sings songs about what they know, people in a small town and the things that happen to them. The album is a good solid listen that breaks down the barriers between blues, rock and country.

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Lisa Loeb and Nine Stories falls into the category of nice try, but no cigar.

To start off, the title of the album is a rip-off of J.D. Salinger’s book of short stories, Nine Stories the first sign of lacking originality. The lyrics follow an irritating sing-song rhythm like a pull- string baby doll. It repeats over and over like a bad dream,, flowing from one cut to the next. The words are far from poetry and closer to a second grader’s prose of what they did over summer vacation. This is not art, it is more of a joke.

The music is mellow because of the slower tempos, but it does not add to the album in any way. It is the same as everybody else who by some miracle, not talent, are cutting records these days.

Lisa Loeb is a teen-ager’s wet dream, but to those who appreciate good music, leave this one alone.

(Mary Rose Roberts) F