Listening Station: Green Day, Twilight Singers, Earlimart, Lamb of God, Q and Not U

Green Day

American Idiot

If there's been one defining wasted opportunity in pop music the last couple of years--the major labels' failure to capitalize on the MP3 phenomenon notwithstanding--it has been the relative lack of politically and socially charged tunes from American artists who have relegated their post-9/11 disillusionment to interview sound bites. Even worse, most of the songs that have garnered some degree of exposure have either been pandering and one-dimensional (Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue") or forgettable (the Beastie Boys' "In a World Gone Mad").

Green Day, the enduring, Berkeley-based trio that is arguably to punk pop what Depeche Mode is to synth pop, has mightily bucked that trend with the audacious American Idiot--a punk opera that depicts the life of a suburban kid coming of age in a time of moral uncertainty and government-promoted paranoia. And what sets this work apart from that of any pop artist dealing with such themes and emotions is its unrelenting melodic prowess. Despite the depth of the storytelling and the conviction in the musicians' delivery on American Idiot, the band's artistic ambitions might not have been so fully realized had they not been delivered with the sharp, tuneful gusto that blankets the whole album. But the trio has masterfully synthesized these important elements, and the result is a career-redefining work.

Green Day hasn't necessarily shied from hooks before; there's a reason its 1994 breakthrough Dookie sold more than 10 million copies. But on American Idiot, those strident verses and choruses go beyond the band's usual three-chord/one-tone presentation, most notably in the form of two nine-minute song suites. "Jesus of Suburbia" and "Homecoming" are essentially bookends to the story of St. Jimmy, each comprised of five mini-songs that transition seamlessly.

The streamlined complexity of the album ought to catch you off guard, but you'll be tapping your feet more than you'll be scratching your head. Though its well-executed topical relevance and unconventional coalescence are most distinguishing, American Idiot is ultimately compelling because it's a consistently remarkable and absorbing example of modern songcraft. Pop has finally found its post-9/11 masterwork.--Mike Prevatt

The Twilight Singers

She Loves You

It's not often that you catch men covering material made famous by female performers, let alone Bjork. But there's something about her entrancing 1995 single "Hyperballad" that moves some male musicians to play it. Former Afghan Whigs frontman Greg Dulli takes it on for an all-reinterpretations disc for his current outfit the Twilight Singers and doesn't nail it as much as he assumes ownership of it--just as artists confident enough to properly cover others' material should.

She Loves You (which, according to Dulli, means "she" loves someone other than him) is almost the male equivalent of Tori Amos' 2001 album Strange Little Girls, where she put a woman's spin on male-penned material. It not only shares (though not completely) that album's thematic ambition, it exhibits an equally wide range of artistic approaches. Tracks such as former Mazzy Star vocalist Hope Sandoval's "Feeling of Gaze" and Fleetwood Mac's "What Makes You Think You're the One" are akin to the forlorn, palatable strummers Dulli was focused on toward the end of the Whigs' run. But the real surprise here is Mary J. Blige's "Real Love," stripped of its hip hop bounce but not its earnestness or soul. The constant on She Loves You is Dulli's love-came-and-went ache, and here it's as potent and distinct as most of his own creations.--Mike Prevatt

Earlimart

Treble & Tremble

My, my, my. What happens when indie-rock goes bad? Earlimart. Southern Californian Aaron Espinoza, in some vain hope to produce an atmospheric sound full of brooding and depth, has done little more than rob the grave of the recently deceased Elliott Smith. And Espinoza and his partners in crime ought to feel significantly mortified at their own impudence. Every song on Treble & Tremble feels cribbed from Smith's Either/Or or the soundtrack to Good Will Hunting. "First Instant Last Report," for all its hopes to achieve universality through ambiguity, ought, as its lyrics suggest, to be thrown away. And the album improves very little from there. Though something must be said for working through one's influences, it's uncertain that Earlimart is anything more than its influences. With Smith's posthumous last album set to drop Oct. 19, Earlimart's timing couldn't be worse. A travesty, indeed.--Carey Murphy

Lamb of God

Ashes of the Wake

If we're to read the recent spate of Bible-based metal band names like tea leaves (gleaming, spiked ones spattered with blood, presumably), maybe we are living in the end times. Seems these days you can't swing your screaming little sister by the hair without hitting an Avenged Sevenfold, Him, Lamb of God or some other act with a moniker that sounds like it was cribbed from the New Testament and then done up in a suitably horned and flame-engulfed font style. There are poseurs and pretenders galore, no doubt, but Lamb of God is no false prophet. Ashes of the Wake is a fine piece of metal chuggery that knows its limits and rages well within them, offering 11 tracks of prefix-free metal generously sassed up with hooks and the kind of fake evil posturing that's more likely to inspire chuckles than chills. What really heats up Ashes is its sense of propulsive musicality; listening to fiery skullburgers like "The Faded Line" and "Blood of the Scribe," you can't help but tell your inner dude that seeing these guys live would be more fun than the usual sociopathic teen entertainment diet of cats and firecrackers. And we all know there are few things more fun than that.--Andrew Kiraly

Q and Not U

Power

Lawdy, lawdy, lawdy. It's getting to be so that every white boy with an analog synthesizer and a Stevie Wonder record thinks he can turn this mother out. Case in point (and in descending order of fun-kay-ness): !!!, Electric Six, the Rapture, Maroon 5 and a slew of lesser-known groove-a-tron 5000s. Of these, Q and Not U has kick-wormed to the fore, blending Gang of Four's staccato rhythmic punch with the off-kilter dance-pop of Pizzicato Five. But Power is more than just another post-punk throwback; it's an indie-rockin', emo-stompin', body-floppin' good time for every hipster who ever lamented the limited boogie quotient of bands like Weezer and Thursday. The highlights are more common than a James Brown backbeat, but "Throw Back Your Head" stands out for its clever incorporation of the recorder and "Collect the Diamonds" for being the catchiest damn pop song since the piano-pounding debut of Ben Folds Five. Just tell me one thing: Who taught these white boys how to shimmy?--Newt Briggs