I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In The House - Menace (2002)

These Portland shitkickers mine the same southern rock goldmine as the Drive-by Truckers, although being from the Pacific North-West they're understandably less interested in myth and tradition than the Truckers (though thankfully much more likely to goose their tunes with punk rock irreverence). So while the epic heaviness of songs like "Dust And Sun", "Fall Down", and "Pauline" could form the basis of their own Northern Rock Opera, tracks like the profane "Westboro Baptist Church" and the steamrolling "Gone" are closer in spirit to Mojo Nixon than Lynyrd Skynyrd. It's a good mix, to my ears, both fun and thoughtful without sacrificing anything in either direction. These are some good ol' boys capable of tolerance and introspection, bringing some dignity back to the term redneck, and having a blast while they do it. When vocalist Mike D. commands "C'mon y'all, let's fuck the president!" in a voice that lands squarely between Mojo's rasp and a swamp frog's croak, it's as much a gesture of solidarity with gays and lesbians as it is a fun call to arms against Bush 43. And on top of everything else, they may possess the best band name of all time.

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Reigning Sound - Time Bomb High School (2002)

Time Bomb High School opens with "Stormy Weather", and Reigning Sound attack that old Doo Wop chestnut with abandon, making it twist and shout where it once only strolled. It's like they snuck their grampa's old Edsel out of the garage and fuel-injected the crate, replacing polite melancholy with desperate vocals, distorted guitar jangle, a roller-rink organ swirling in the mix. And this souped-up jalopy is held together with tape and glue and hormones, threatening to break apart in a fiery crash before it gets anywhere near Dead Man's Curve. A total thrill ride, in other words.

That opening shot is no mistake. Ex-Oblivians auteur Greg Cartwright's new combo is hellbent on bashing out punk rock like the last 25 years of punk never happened. They gnaw on the same roots that formed bands like the Standells and the Sonics; they dip in to the same melting pot of American music that later forged the Velvet Underground, the Modern Lovers, and the Ramones. Cartwright's original compositions match the structure and melody of his influences. Songs like "Reptile Style" and "Brown Paper Sack" sound like immediate classics from a parallel 1950s universe, churning with an adrenalized rush of Memphis soul and garage punk. Some heart-on-the-sleeve ballads help pace the album, but there's never a fear that this sock hop will end with a waltz.

This is the sort of archeological dig that rock bands often get lost in, returning to the surface with nothing to show but an academic dissertation and a whiteface of lime chalk. But Reigning Sound seem to have dug deeper than most, with less respect and a clumsy exuberance, unafraid of shattering a few fossils, and in the process they've uncovered something new and exciting.