Wolf Eyes -- Burned Mind (Sub Pop)
Justin Kownacki's review of this disc was just dandy, and fairly representative of a number of pieces that I've seen about the Sub Pop release (a gutsy move on their part, I might add). Justin acknowledged that Wolf Eyes' music is noise-saturated; it's tough to listen to, let alone assimilate, and yet there's something compelling about Burned Mind. I couldn't agree more, but I'll add my own two cents. The principal reason why I think that Wolf Eyes can manage the delicate balance between noise music and unlistenable cacophony is their acute sense of formal design. The pieces on Burned Mind are not just noise for noise's sake but carefully structured compositions, filled with subtle shifts in color and texture that allow for a delineation of audio fury. Many listeners' first instinct may well be to run screaming from the room, but careful attention reveals the many "ugly beauties" (to paraphrase Thelonious Monk) woven into "Dead in a Boat", "Reaper's Gong", and, in particular, "Ancient Delay". True, there is a certain relentless confrontational element to Wolf Eyes' oeuvre that could get old quickly; they will have to expand their palette somewhat on their next release in order not become a self-caricature. But if you're looking for daring music on the edge, this is one to not miss.

Ahleuchatistas -- The Same and the Other (NFI)
Guitarist Shane Perlowin, bassist Derek Poteat and drummer Sean Dail make instrumental music that mostly resides at the meteoric end of the tempo spectrum. Volcanic and exciting, speed rock pieces like "Cracked Teeth" and "Ecstasy Combat Boots" demonstrate both chops to burn and tight ensemble coordination. Even more interesting is the postmodern fusion of "Imperceptibility" and "Falling Bards", which combines ostinato grooves with burning guitar solos. Frequent tempo shifts and metric modulations create a sense of musical sophistication in The Same and the Other that far surpasses the results when stock-in-trade math rockers try the same tricks. The frequently breathless pace adopted by Ahleuchatistas means that more spacious works, like "Lee Kyang Hae", are welcome respites. Still, the final track says it all -- The Same and the Other is filled with "Joyous Disruptions".

Happy Apple -- The Peace Between our Companies (Sunnyside)
Happy Apple is a trio of musicians -- saxophonist Michael Lewis, electric bassist Erik Fratzke, and drummer David King -- who combine the digressive nature of free improvisation with elements of modern jazz. Extended tracks like "Freelance Robotics" and "See Sun Spot Run" are filled with small, intricate sections of music, rife with diverse motives of considerable interest. Sometimes the harmonic language is decidedly "out", but often as not, Fratzke's rich bass lines imply a pitch centric underpinning that grounds the music at key moments. "Paulie's Quick Temper has Gotten Him into a Few Jams", a title almost longer than the two-minute long composition to which it is attached, adopts a funky swing that evokes seventies jazz, while "Let's Not Reflect" is a surprisingly straightforward (and affecting) ballad. Indeed, Happy Apple is full of surprises, and while their music isn't easy to pin down, stylistically speaking, it is ripe with invention and enviably coherent, especially for such a diverse assemblage of material.

Clogs -- Stick Music (Brassland)
I love it when musical genre-bending becomes so intricate as to confound the pigeonhole pundits. Clogs have been called everything from world music to folk to post-rock to modern classical. The truth is that this collective works in all of these veins (and more) simultaneously, eschewing typecasting and making compelling music all the while. Many of the compositions on Stick Music are credited to Australian violinist Padma Newsome, and the sound world of pieces like "Sticks and Nails" is filled with Tim Feeney's gamelan-influenced percussion, Bryce Dessner's prepared guitar sounds, and lush strings from Newsome, Jennifer Choi and Erik Friedlander. On "Pencil Stick", Newsome cuts swaths of melody that are both folk-like in their scalar simplicity and classically refined in their nuanced phrasing. At times, the music is somewhat reminiscent of experimentalists Harry Partch and Lou Harrison. Compositions like "Beating Stick" and "River Stick", on the other hand, combine post-minimal pulsations with sweeping, almost romantic, string parts. "My Mister Never Ending Bliss" sets Erik Friedlander's pizzicato cello against Newsome's stratospheric violin, in a more overt evocation of European minimalists such as Pärt and Gorecki. "Witch Stick", in contrast, is a supple and poignant elegy, inspiring in its elegant clarity. While there are other chamber music ensembles making more progressive music, Clogs synthesizes memorable elements from the past into an exciting postmodern present.

Uncle Woody Sullender -- Nothing is Certain but Death (Dead CEO)
Nothing says that the holidays are over like an album of solo banjo performances. But wait, don't go away; this is no ordinary banjo recording. Uncle Woody Sullender turns the banjo into an instrument of the avant-garde, plying it with extended techniques, playing mosquito-fast runs, attacking angular post-tonal lines with abandon, and even subjecting his axe to electronic treatments. On paper, this sounds like the musical equivalent of haggis-flavored ice cream, but Sullender makes it work with musicality and a quirky, but compelling, musical vision. Just hearing "I am in a Consumption", a coloristic melange of all of Sullender's extended banjo wizardry, is worth the price of admission. Bluegrass aficionados will no doubt wince at "Sallie Goodman Breakdown"'s fractured distortion, but "From Hoggee to Hoggler" demonstrates that Sullender can pick with the best of them. Sometimes the tendency toward abrasive sounds becomes a bit tiresome, but let's face it -- anyone whose instrument is the banjo has already been saddled with a host of preceding stylistic and cultural baggage, so who can blame him for a bit of striking back? Nothing is Certain but Death turns banjo prejudice on its head, combining a bit of humor with a ton of idiosyncratic and individual music-making.

-- Christian Carey