BWC: As a musician, how did you get involved with the business aspect of music distribution?

D: Well, with The Inbreds, we just started doing our own stuff (production and recording) naturally from the beginning. I was always naturally into computer stuff so the business side was an easy transition.

BWC: What are some of the greatest accomplishments with Zunior so far - and on the flipside, what are some of the biggest roadblocks you've encountered?

D: Accomplishments...Ya know, I think with Zunior, the goal has been and still is to be fully representative of Canada and fully digital. I can safely say we have done that thus far and I think we're one of the first, if not the first, true independent digital platforms within Canada. So the segue from just being a digital platform into a full store has been pretty natural and really good. As far as roadblocks, in the beginning anyways, I think it's been tough for a lot of people to understand why they should buy digitally but I think that's changing in the music marketplace, for sure.

BWC: Switching gears a little, and to help people understand not just your business sense but your affinity for music, how did you first get inspired to play and create music even before The Inbreds?

D: I think the beginning for me was really watching other great bands perform live. Actually, there was a battle of the bands that was being advertised at my high school that I really wanted to be in so Mike and I started to play together on weekends so we could enter. But I remember seeing this one band play...I can't even remember their name, now...but these guys were like loud punk rock, but true punk rock in the sort of loud and heavy way. They were just awesome and I thought "Wow - I love everything about this." Anyways, the contest actually forced Mike and I to learn three songs from end to end, and in learning all the different parts for those songs, that's where it all kinda began.

BWC: Just out of curiosity, do you remember what three songs they were?

D: (laughs) Yeah man, they were...oh, let me think...U2 - "Two Hearts Beat As One," ZZ Top - "I Thank You" and Led Zeppelin - "Whole Lotta Love." I think it was "Whole Lotta Love." Anyways, there you have it - my musical taste in high school.

BWC: Okay, random question: How does it make you feel that Winning Hearts by your old band, The Inbreds, is Dave Grohl's "favorite Inbreds album"?

D: Love it. Love it. You know, we were on sort of a tour with Foo Fighters way back at one of those Edgefest things and I actually used to find different ways to get our music into the hands of other musicians who I liked. So I used to make up these brown paper bags full of cassettes (cassettes were the big deal in those days) and I remember getting some to Sloan back in the day. That was like 1992. But with Dave on the Edgefest tour, I actually got him one of our CD's and left it in his dressing room. And then he actually talked to us (Mike and I) for a while because that was right around the time we released a video for ..."Attitude," I think it was? And he saw the video and told us he loved it.

BWC: With The Inbreds and their very beginnings, what was the end goal that you and Mike O'Neill had in mind when you started down that road back in Kingston and Oshawa?

D: In some ways, it was more of a joke in the sense that we didn't really see ourselves...you know...getting a record deal. We sort of had it in our minds, from day one, that neither Mike nor myself were really of the same calibre as other great bands of our time. And really, major record deals are pretty much bullsh** for the most part. We wanted our stuff to be more about the heart and not the rest of the crap that gets in the way.

BWC: A two parter - With your most recent musical project of Egger, what made you decide to get back into music after The Inbreds and what can listeners expect from Egger in the future?

D: You know, I really saw Egger as a chance to connect with some other great musicians (Don Kerr from Ron Sexsmith's band) and create a full album from end to end. With The Inbreds, I wasn't ever really involved in the songwriting so this was a chance for me to really get into that. It's been tough to find the time with two young kids but Egger is my baby, for sure. You can definitely expect to hear a lot more in the future.

BWC: In the digital age of music distribution, what made you decide to offer the FLAC or lossless sound file option on Zunior.com?

D: Well, the way I look at it is in the same vein as DVDs. As soon as DVDs became marketed, they inevitably found a way to take them to the highest possible format and quality (i.e. Blu-Ray, HD). So in regards to mp3's and wav files, the FLAC option is the same thing. A little bit of a bigger file but the sound quality is premium. Over time, it will definitely become the luxury or premium option for digital music files so we're happy to offer that on Zunior.

BWC: How does your experience as a musician benefit what you're doing with Zunior and how does Zunior benefit the artists involved?

D: I understand the importance of getting paid, and transparency in business dealings. Music is a business even at the most modest level. Digital is a model that allows artists to get paid right from the first sale, and they have direct access to review details. On top of that, I've put in the road miles to understand recording, touring, living at a true indie level. You can't put a price on that experience and it informs every single thing I do with Zunior.

BWC: How do you feel about the success of other artists you've collaborated and played with - specifically artists from Murderecords like Joel Plaskett and Sloan?

D: You know, Joel - for the age that we are all at - and the fact that he's stuck with it, and the fact that he's hardcore with touring and making it as a solo act, I say he deserves all the credit he gets.

BWC: Being in The Inbreds as a power duo (with only two of you in the band), how do you feel about other bands that have since been made famous the two-man style (i.e. Death From Above 1979) and do you feel like they've ripped you off?

D: Ha. No. I mean I'm sure we weren't the first to do it but it's a tough style to pull off. DFA 1979? No hard feelings against those guys. We actually offer their music on Zunior. I would say their style is definitely different from ours but you know, they had their own niche. One band that I would say really does the two person thing well is The White Stripes - there's a real sincerity about that music style because it's so simple and raw and I think they pull it off well.

But then there are party bands, bands whose music is primarily suited for big, raucous, over-the-top soirees where the food, fluids, and frivolity are freely flowing. Everyone knows the lyrics, the lyrics contain little or no deep meaning, and the music is ridiculously upbeat, catchy, and ripe for ample air guitar playing. There is probably no other band in the past 15 years that can lay claim to the title of "The Best Party Band" than can The Presidents of the United States of America. With unforgettable '90s jams like "Lump," "Peaches," and "Mach 5," this crazy group made a name for themselves with a strong stage presence, a self-deprecating sense of humor, and the uncanny ability to write pop hooks that became lodged in your head for days.

So, after minor breaks from the road and studio to start and establish families, some hopping between record labels, and starting their own indie record label, the band has released what could be seen as a comeback album These Are The Good Time People. From the outset and as the album title indicates, the band seeks to give frat parties a fresh series of anthems, from "Mixed-Up S.O.B.," an ode to a confusing ex-girlfriend serving as the group's lead single with some college radio stations, "Ghosts Are Everywhere," "Rot In The Sun," and "Deleter." These are rollicking, rocking rhythms that are seemingly destined to be playing in the background of shindigs of all sizes, whether in your backyard or in a teen move college dormitory. And like all party anthems of such ilk, they succeed because they have easily memorable, catchy hooks for choruses that people can't help but sing together in large groups.

Nevertheless, drunken jams aside, what sets this album apart are the coterie of seemingly sweet, sensitive songs that catch the band possibly in the throes of re-branding. From the swing of "Flame In Love" and the quirky "Truckstop Butterfly" to the faux angst of "French Girl" and the cute metaphors of "Ladybug," one is left to wonder if The Presidents are growing soft in their old age. However, the band quickly addresses such concerns in a way that both expresses their heart and their sense of humor: "More Bad Times" is a paean from a knight-in-shining-armor to his damsel-in-distress detailing how he wants to help her and be with her so badly that he wishes more awful events upon her so that he could come to her rescue.

Inevitably, These Are The Good Times People is an album that's designed to be fun: there are no political themes here, and even the screed against tanning "Rot In The Sun" is jokey and hokey. So, while there might be more lower-key, mid-tempo cuts on this record than prior releases, The Presidents Of The United States remains a band that people with wacky senses of humor can enjoy along with frat boys - they're egalitarian like that.

What their fans are going to make of it - those people still looking for the perfect sequel to their breakout single "Sour Times" - remains to be seen, but for those of us who get to write about what makes music so good or so bad, this record is the perfect encapsulation of all the band's influences and moody neuroses.

It's a shame that this band got saddled with the descriptor of "trip-hop." It was a genre that died as soon as it was born. Each one of its main progenitors - Tricky, Massive Attack, and Portishead - took the sound that connected them in increasingly more unexpected directions.

The only one who ever really fulfilled the promise of their debut album though was Portishead. Their second self-titled album took the John Barry by way of J Dilla aesthetic and stripped it clean, leaving a bare, bleached out sound that was disconcerting to submit oneself to, but impossible to turn away from.

In the decade that has passed, the band's two chief musical conspirators, Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley, have apparently decided that the time was right to set any semblance of a playbook on fire for their new work.

From the start, the band sets out to leave the listener uneasy and unprepared for the way a song is going to move - just as the rumbling drumbeat and Bernard Herrmann strings have you in their sway in the closing minute of the opener "Silence", the bottom drops out to, well, silence. Others like "Plastic" and "Machine Gun" toss in noisy interludes and stray bits of sound that appear to be field recordings of riveters.

The beats that Barrow concocts for this album are even more stripped down than before, relegated to a fractured boom-bap with a wash of sheet metal to back it up. Even in the most straightforward moments, like the gorgeous "Nylon Smile", the muted snare heartbeat that carries the song isn't left alone, getting undercut by the insect needling of Utley's guitar.

Beth Gibbons has never sounded better than she does here. With musical tracks such as this, it shouldn't be a surprise that Gibbons comes off as unhinged as she manages to do - see if you can get through the closing track "Threads" or "Plastic" without a chill running up your person at least once - but she manages to squeeze emotion out of even the most fractured of lyrics.

This is, so far, the most artful collection of songs to be released by a major band this year and is what the rest of the musical world should seek to aspire to: a record that leaves a permanent mark on your psyche.

Pollan boils down his entire food philosophy to seven simple words that also serve as the book's subtitle: Eat food. Mostly plants. Not too much. Most of us want to be more careful and conscientious about the food we eat, but convenience and cost often hamper our best intentions. Pollan's easy to remember and practical catch phrase makes it easier to balance those two interests.

Pollan's first directive, "eat food," seems simple enough, but, in practice, eating real, whole foods is increasingly difficult to do in today's marketplace. The industrialization and mass fertilization of our produce has dramatically decreased the nutritional content of the fruits and vegetables available at the supermarkets. Much of what is consumed in America on a daily basis is the product of industrial farms or a laboratory, both of which sacrifice good taste and nutrition for low prices.

For most Americans, Pollan's suggestion to consume mostly plants is almost un-American. We like our meat, and we don't particularly care how it gets to our plates. Pollan cites decades-old research from Weston A. Price, as well as more recent research presented in Dr. T. Colin Campbell and Thomas M. Campbell II's The China Study to demonstrate the dangers of the animal-protein-rich American diet. Factory farms are one of the leading causes of air and water pollution, so, for those of us concerned about creation care, eating a diet consisting primarily of plants should be a way of life. At the very least, we should be making more conscientious food choices about where the animal products that we consume come from.

Pollan's last recommendation, don't eat too much, is a common-sense approach to any healthy diet. Pollan argues that we need to change how we eat by changing our food culture to one that focuses more on quality than quantity and more on enjoyment of the food and the experience than on cost. Pollan offers the French as a model of a right-minded food culture: the French "seldom snack, and eat most of their food at meals shared with other people...they eat small portions and don't come back for seconds...and they spend considerably more time eating than we do."

Our personal food choices are a huge part of our social experience - both as individuals and as a community. Our prevalent food culture today is shallow and exploitative, and it is time that we, as consumers, become more engaged in what exactly ends up on our dinner plates and how it got there. Reading In Defense of Food would be a good first-step toward that end.

The album opens up with something akin to those skits albums back in the nineties sometimes snuck in between songs--like the Shanice "Homey don't play that" skit. Jackson tells her Japanese cyborg to play her album, and then the album commences.

If this were the only spoken interlude, it would be easy to overlook, but there's more. There's another one called "Bathroom Break." Here, some girls are gossiping about getting "hollered at" while at a party. They're taking a little break from dancing to compare notes with each other before heading back in to dance some more.

It's also not the only track to feature the voice of a robot. "Rock with U" begins with some sort of digitalized voice enhancement. Using digitalized voice sounds about as new as using "U" as a stand in for "You." ...Which is also about as new as using "2nite" for "Tonight" or "B" for "Be," both of which Jackson does, too. In other words, the album isn't bringing anything new to the music scene.

Familiar can be good, though. From even the first play of the album, it is enjoyable. It sounds like all the other good pop on the radio. On the whole, the album is rather mellow. It's got a cool, slow vibe punctuated by funky beats. You can almost picture people sexily swirling their hips around as they dance in a dimly lit room.

Sex is a big theme running through Discipline. We're not talking sensuality here, we're talking blatant sex. The lyrics verge on the pornographic. There is mention of size (and she's not talking about a guy's foot) and whips, as she breathily coos her lyrics. The album's namesake even comes from Jackson's S&M fantasy.

It's great that nowadays women in their forties can still be recognized as sexual beings. Still, there is a time and a place for everything. Jackson's text-message-like song titles and woman-on-the-prowl interludes come across as immature, while her over-the-top-sex lyrics offer TMI: Too Much Information.

If you're a Janet Jackson fan, go ahead and add this to your collection. Otherwise, enjoy it at the clubs. And if you're not getting your groove on at the clubs and never hear this album, you're not missing anything.

Well, not really.

Perhaps the folks over at Maxim believe this whole ordeal of publishing a review of the Black Crowes' Warpaint before even listening to it has been blown out of proportion (it hasn't really) and has tarnished their magazine's reputation (it has), but if anyone should be complaining it should be the Chris Robinson and the gang as the release of their latest album has been overshadowed by Maxim's bogus reviewers. It is unfortunate that for many music listeners their only exposure to this album will be through the well reported controversy of the negative "educated-guess-review" Maxim published. However, for those who actually give Warpaint a fair listen, they will see the album for what it is - a well-written, musically impassioned release.

If nothing else, Warpaint can be seen as a beacon of hopeful ambition and spiritual yearning. The celebratory "Goodbye Daughters of the Revolution" is a suitable opening to this album with lines such as "Hallelujah, come join the jubilee". A similar atmosphere is found throughout much of the remainder of the album, however, it is not a superficial optimism free from reality. Wisps of heartbreak can be found in the lines of "Oh Josephine", and a grim recognition of the perils of the modern world makes up "Walk Believe Walk" but is met with the counsel to "pray on, pray on, my brother".

Musically, the Crowes are at their best on Warpaint with hand clapping blues romps like "God's Got It". Even their slower-paced songs, such as the piano and mandolin led "Locust Street", remain powerful enough to keep the listener enraptured with Robinson's raspy vocals. Perhaps the most stunning piece on Warpaint is the closing "Whoa Mule". An eclectic mix of harmonica, hand drums, slide guitars, and songbirds (the band allegedly recorded this song outdoors), "Whoa Mule" sounds like a campfire sing-along with the band, and is in itself worth the purchasing price.

After listening to Warpaint, listeners do not see the Black Crowes' creating anything strikingly groundbreaking - no synth solos or drum machines, no experimental noise rock, etc. - just the familiar bluesy, beer and BBQ ballads they have become known for. But who cares? The Crowes' have established their musical niche and have remained there without getting old and stale. Far from the laughable 2.5/5 rating Maxim doled out, Warpaint deserves much greater recognition and will most likely receive that recognition from anyone who actually listens to the whole album.

In October of 2007, Foo Fighters released their newest offering entitled Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace. Before I get into the dough of that bread, however, I feel it is necessary to briefly touch on the history and saga of Dave Grohl. Being a fan of the Foos since their pre-1995 humble beginnings (when Dave Grohl made a demo tape to attract other musicians that ended up being released as the Foos first self-titled album), I was actually never a massive follower of Nirvana. I liked them and I dug the raw feel of In Utero but I was never a huge believer. Since the haze of those Seattle days, Dave has arguably been the most successful musician that has moved from being a drummer to a front man.

Apparently, there are over a thousand people who check out BWC on a daily basis. It's awesome to think that there is a readership out there that is devoted to dissecting truth with a spiritual (and often Jesus-based) world view. Unfortunately, so many people who know no better look to major magazines and releases to find the critical truth - Rolling Stone, SPIN, Pitchfork, etc. If you are a reader of the BWC or just a first time checker-outer, I hope you get the sense that BWC folks write from the heart within this publication. I hope that it's understood that when I write the phrase "ESPG is a solidly constructed album and one of the Foos more diverse works," I write that from the heart and I am not getting paid to type that. It just needed to be said. Let us dive into the proverbial pool, shall we?

On ESPG, Dave, Taylor, Chris and Nate take a varied approach to songwriting. Though Dave is in the lead (as per usual), you get the sense that the band is taking a deeper philosophical breath as they rock hyper at times but kick back mellow at others. "The Pretenders" is nowhere near one of the best songs on this album and honestly, I have no idea why Dave and the boys released this as their first single. There are some amazing tracks on this disc that gave me shivers the first time I heard them and still do to this day. "Long Road To Ruin" is a great rock-pop anthem that speaks of the long road ahead that we will all, most likely, make mistakes upon while we drive on it. "Come Alive" is one of the best songs I've heard in years and though it gets a little edgy and loud for modern trends (that mostly feature bands with a token female singer and xylophone), there is hardly a soul who can not relate to watching a friend or loved one dwindle on the tip of his or her true potential.

"Cheer Up Boys (Your Make Up Is Running)" is probably my favorite song out of the whole disc. It features everything the Foos do well - the harder guitar and drum edge but with a poppy, light tone that any listener could bob their head along with. The idea behind the song really speaks for itself - in an age where so many musicians thrive on an image of being sad, gothic and cosmetically downtrodden, Dave is speaking to the evils teenage influence that focus too much on the downside of life:

Stop using my confusion
Wait...Wait...
There's a world out there
Don't you deny me

The ill album review that I referenced earlier is one that surfaced directly after the release of ESPG in SPIN Magazine. In this disgrace of a review (and really...I'm being generous with that wording), the writer goes on to sloppily compare a few new songs on the album with older Foo hits from previous releases: " 'The Pretenders' is 'Stacked Actors', even down to the lyrics decrying phonies; and if you've heard 'My Hero', you've got a good idea what 'Statues' sounds like."

Wow.

The comparison of those tracks is so far off target that's it's almost as if this reviewer was listening to an entirely different album. Though there are some vague lyrical similarities between "Stacked Actors" and "The Pretenders", the former is much more of a snapshot of the bleach-blonde industry posers whereas 'The Pretenders" is about musical staying power amidst one hit wonders. The two songs, however, are actually quite different from a sonic standpoint. As far as the comparison of "My Hero" and "Statues"...I'm somewhat shoulder-shrugged. Everyone in the free world has heard "My Hero" - it's a song that begins with a throbbing drum track and moves into a powerful blast of bass and guitar-throttle. "Statues" is a mellow ballad that Dave croons upon while playing piano.

Finally, the reviewer actually makes a reference to Dave Grohl's career, thus far, as being "fantastically average." I might take that statement a little more seriously if I believed the writer even had one decent listen-through to the album in question. Even people who despise Foo Fighters would never make such an asinine claim about the stature of Grohl's career. In all honesty, Foo Fighters don't write the best songs ever made and they would be the first ones to admit that. Amidst the smoke and mirrors of the musical marketplace, though, Dave Grohl has some depth and although it's usually only hinted at, it is still there. Unfortunately, since the monster of Nirvana has been painted and pedestalized in such an unfair and uneven light, Dave has had to live with the burden of trying please old Nirvana fans and critics from day one. As the Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic once said, "Dave has had to find his way out of the jungle of Nirvana with a machete...but I think he has done pretty well."

Often when I read these other nickel and dime review 'zines, I can't help but notice the missed target of finding out more about the personal lives of musicians and what makes them tick. I don't know if Dave Grohl knows God - maybe he does in a way I'll never understand or maybe he has chosen another road. Though major magazines wouldn't see this as "good copy" and usually don't care, I care and by leaving out the details of the following story in the mix of reviewing this album, I would be performing a massive disservice to the world of critical thought.

After years of listening to Dave Grohl's music, what I can surmise is that he is someone on a valid search - sure, Jack Black is his buddy and Courtney Love hates his guts but he tries to stay out of the tabloids and believes in the value of people. In fact, the one green marker that the SPIN review actually got shallowly correct was the rating of "The Ballad of the Beaconsfield Miners" as a beautiful "bluegrass instrumental that is an oasis" of sorts. What the mediocre reviewer failed to engage, however, is the remarkable story behind that song which can be read about here. The story basically speaks of Dave Grohl helping two men who were stuck in the Beaconsfield Mine Collapse in Australia. Dave found out the miners were fans of the Foos and sent them mp3 players filled with Foo Fighters music and other tunes, offered them free tickets to a show and to meet them personally and 'buy them some beers', and then created that very song (while jamming on the night one of the miners came to a Foos show) and promised the miner that "it would be a song on their new record." The new record would, in fact, be one entitled Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace. (But you know - pretty boring, average story. No need to mention that in a major magazine.) Music always conveys a message and I'm not making Dave Grohl out to be a saint, but it is without question that he and the Foos have some pretty interesting things to say.

Few others besides Gnarls Barkley could make The Odd Couple, an album full of MTV hits and radio-ready singles, that is at the same time full of melancholy despair. It doesn't make sense, but it works.

If their debut album, St. Elsewhere, is a study and expression of a mind already gone and taken over by disease and dysfunction, The Odd Couple is about a mind in the process of giving up despair and grief. It is about a fragile personality whose surrounding get the best of it.

It begins just as St. Elsewhere did, with the crackle and hum of an antique projector machine. This shows that Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse do not mean to tell us something, but to show us something. The Odd Couple is dense with textures and images brought about the unique Gnarls sound.

The opening track, "Charity Case", introduces us to the lonely protagonist - "Even my shadow leaves me alone at night/Oh, can't you see/get, get, get away now" - with a deep blue bassline and show-tune finger-snaps and hand-claps. The narrative continues with "Who's Gonna Save My Soul," a mixture of twilight blues and heartbreak soul in which we see the him begin to give in to his pain - "Getting high cause I feel so low now, I know I'm out of control now" - and then turn to violence as an escape - "You better run right now, you best get ready to die" - in the hit single "Run."

Out of his stout frame, Cee-Lo, through his nationally recognized voice, is able to convey multiple aspects of the troubled mind. His voice has a deep and diverse level of personality. He can be a bitch-n-moan-y teenager in "Whatever," a decently-rational pessimist in "Surprise" and demented murderer in "Would Be Killer."

This is not to say that the musical form isn't always at odds with the lyrical content. "Would Be Killer" and "Open Book" are nightmares manifested in discomforting beats, foggy rhythms and demon-possessed vocals that deliver one of the most disturbing lines I've heard in a long time: "Oh, I've been interned by evil, so someone best love me right now."

The Odd Couple is an album of curiosity. You can feel the tension of the mostly-upbeat pop and melancholy narrative. But who better to match the unmatchable than DJ Danger Mouse--the man who somehow married the Beatles with Jay-Z. He is able to bring together elements of Sixties Soul, tribal rhythms, bayou blues, epic movie score and modern mash-up in strange and harmonious dissonance.

What is this you say? A movie star who is reluctant to have her name thrust into another spotlight? Those actually exist? Such ponderings aside, the real question is this: Are her songs worth anything or will this be another case of a celebrity thinking that her talent on the big screen means that she has talent in other arenas?

Thankfully, Ms. Deschanel is no flighty celebutante and M. Ward is a more-than-capable cohort, as the two of them have partnered together under the moniker of She & Him to create Volume One. The record resonates with an emotional depth and awareness that is foreign to much of what passes for contemporary country music, hearkening the listener back to a time when producers actually allowed the singer to sing, as opposed to masking them in waves of string sections and electronic gobbledygook. Moreover, the slow and mournful tracks come across with a greater strength and weight than do the indie-pop ditties; the songs Zooey sings at her lover sound truer than those about her concept of love.

As difficult as it is not to want to two-step to the fun, upbeat "This Is Not A Test" the earnest passion that comes across in offerings like "Why Do You Let Me Stay Here," "Change Is Hard," or "You really Gotta Hold On Me" is both more believable and imminently more indicative of the duo's overall musical direction. However, everything on Volume One isn't glistening with moody, sultry ambience; lyrics like "I'm stuck here getting misty over you. I'm alone on a bicycle for two," (from "Black Hole") come across as more than a bit trite, as if Zooey was reading from the journal of her lovelorn, 15-year-old self.

And while the album is rather coherent in terms of genre, there are simply songs that fall flat ("Got Me" and "Sweet Darling") because they follow the stylistic formula a bit too closely. Overall, this is a breezy, delectable little country-folk album that serves as a showcase for Zooey's Loretta Lynn-styled vocals and Matt's pop sensibilities, an easy selection for those times when hipsters want to pop something in their stereos that they, their significant others, and their parents can all enjoy.

This seems to be the case with the latest Wu Tang Clan album 8 Diagrams, which is unfortunate as the Clan was one of the most prolific hip hop outfits of the early nineties spawning numerous solo albums and influencing a generation of hardcore rappers. 8 Diagrams marks the first Wu Tang album in almost seven years and the first album since the death of Ol' Dirty Bastard in 2004.

The last 15 years have seen many changes in the hip hop world, and 8 Diagrams is evidence of this. The sound that set Wu Tang Clan apart in the early nineties has been debased to the point of boredom. 8 Diagrams sounds like just about every other mainstream hip-hop album of recent years - full of the same obligatory cliches. For example, "Stick Me for My Riches" sounds more like an Usher single than the hardcore rap that the Wu Tang became known for. Lines about "cashing checks" and "snapping necks" and "riches and bitches" fit the same yawn-inducing mold that has become commonplace. Elsewhere on the album, pointless misogyny and boasts of sexual conquests trigger further eye rolls and yawns.

Despite the catchy "Wolves" featuring funk legend George Clinton (Parliament, Funkadelic) and "The Heart Gently Weeps" which features both Chili Pepper John Frusciante and son of George Harrison, Dhani, the rest of 8 Diagrams is awfully stale. Impressive guest appearances are unfortunately not enough to make the album anything more than a boring record. The emotive ode to Ol' Dirty Bastard, "Life Changes", closes the album, but the sincerity of this track can hardly be seen on those that precede it.

It seems that many hip-hop artists have hit a plateau. The music industry has been devoid of the explosive power that was unleashed by pioneers such as Public Enemy, Run-DMC, and NWA. I am not suggesting that it's a dead genre, but perhaps rap artists have entered into the same sort of "dark ages" many rock bands entered into during the eighties. But just as bands like The Pixies, Dinosaur Jr. and Sonic Youth rescued rock from the clutches of Wham and Culture Club, it is quite likely that there will be similar groundbreaking rap artists that will revive the hip-hop genre.

I think Bon Iver (real name: Justin Vernon) is not of the chosen few, and so delivered For Emma, Forever Ago to the world in deliberate acoustic-folk simplicity. It is clear by the end of the first track, "Flume," that Bon is not looking to make headlines with complex Clapton guitar licks or Sufjan orchestration. He sticks with simple chord progressions that persist through both verse and chorus with little instrumental accompaniment and zero harmonization.

"Lump Sun" uses the same two chords for the entire three-and-a-half minutes alongside a Frooty Loops beat consisting of the same electronic tick. "Skinny Love" and "Blindsided" follow a similar bare bones musical framework.

The problem with this approach is it can, at times, flirt with being sloppy. Just like it takes a careful and meticulous artist to control chaos, it takes the same effort and care to give simplicity an impacting purpose. Just as anyone can write haiku, but few do it well, anyone can write and play a four-chord folk song, but few give it life.

There are, thankfully, a few uncomplicated but necessary components that give each song and the whole album at least a small bit of diversity. Some songs, like "Creature Fear" and "Team" seem to stop and start around the halting clank and clap and whistle of every noisemaker in the studio and solidify the sense of near-brokenness Iver's voice softly carries throughout.

Iver has a voice that anyone can relate to and many could emulate, but that does not mean it is without its individuality. It is a voice that sits in the passenger seat and sings, almost whispers, a tune or two to no one in particular. And I think that is this singer's appeal: his ability to sing with heart and feeling without being overbearing or overly sentimental.

This is best displayed in the conclusion of the album is the calmly melodic folk ditty "Re: Stacks" and the organ ballad dedicated to place where the album was recorded in a remote cabin: "Wisconsin." His vocals float effortlessly over the lone instruments like a mosquito above a lake at sunrise.

For Emma, Forever Ago is a good listen, but not a great album. It is something to hum along to, or to keep in the background as you're doing your taxes, but probably not something you'll devote your life to; nothing that'll give you goose bumps or open your eyes to some unnamed mystery in the dusty corner of the universe.

The success or failure of implementing bureaucracy is wholly reliant upon two things: A definitive, just power source, and clear communication amongst divisions. Bureaucracy is, in theory, the most efficient way to divide power only if there is a power regulating the bureaucracy itself; a bureaucracy which stands alone has no source from which to divide power, in turn ensuring its own downfall. The famed Marxist utopian experiments in the Twentieth Century failed when movements to decentralize power became subject to totalitarian dictatorships, ultimately bringing about genocide and war in their desperate attempts to ensure societal and economic uniformity. The USSR, China, and others each were devoted the cause of power divided equally amongst all citizens. Therein lies the problem. Power is not meant to be overspecialized to the point of individual autonomy. Rather, each individual is given rights and protected by the jurisdiction of power. Famed sociologist Max Weber noted that bureaucracy has an "impersonality, concentration of the means of administration, a leveling effect on social and economic differences and implementation of a system of authority that is practically indestructible." Each of these characteristics makes bureaucracy an ideal candidate for manipulation; it is through this means to an end society would become that much more vulnerable to malevolent forces and hideous strengths.

The lack of clarification within the National Institute for Coordinated Experiments (N.I.C.E.) is addressed by C.S. Lewis in That Hideous Strength through the lens of obsessive insider Mark Studdock. Studdock is able to maneuver himself into good standing with progressively more and more exclusive circles. Amongst inner circles at Belbury he finds that there is a great deal of backstabbing and finger-pointing, and, much to his chagrin, that no one has the faintest idea of their ultimate purpose as exclusive members of the N.I.C.E. When he finally enters into the innermost circle of Belbury--those purported to have been directing the affairs of the organization--he finds that even fewer of the elites know of their true purpose. The air of paranoid oversight ensnares followers and keeps them under the control of the organization, showing the N.I.C.E.'s sly utilization of organizational mayhem and groupthink.

Worse yet, he finds that they are deluded into thinking that their specific function is driving the Institution. Filostrato, for instance, is fueled by the belief that humanity can transcend biological constraints by scientific means: Straik is convinced through his set of heretical religious views that any form of power is an embodiment of God's will: Even the actual Director of the N.I.C.E., Jules, is, through his scant knowledge of science, completely unknowing of the real purpose of the N.I.C.E. He is merely a figurehead. Only Wither and Frost are informed enough to know the N.I.C.E.'s purpose as direct servants of the Macrobes (fallen eldila). Being informed, however, comes at a rather hefty price: Both Wither and Frost are so sickeningly deluded by the Macrobes that they are absolutely devoid of soul or interior. Wither is oftentimes described as having momentary bouts of a lack of expression, which could be interpreted as an outward sign of his lack of a soul.

Still, there is no central power. Wither answers to the real Head (literally and figuratively), the severed head of Alcasan, which is the host to a fallen eldila. The Macrobes are the very essence of opposition to authority through their rebellion against Maleldil the Young, yet the reader is given no insight as to whether there is a 'bent' Oyarsa overseeing the process. Even if it is present, one cannot assume that the fallen eldila are willing to abide by any sort of authority whatsoever, as presumably autonomous Satanic agents. The bent Oyarsa could have presented itself to the innermost circle just as the good Oyarsa's were able to visit Ransom and Merlin at St. Anne's. Therefore the reader can deduce that the bent eldila, the embodiment of heavenly rebellion, are autonomous.

In Satire VI, Roman poet Juvenal raises a question which eerily haunts us today:

"Sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"

(But who will watch the watchmen?)

How could any plot without a concrete leader - in this case, the Watchman of watchmen, Maleldil - succeed? The Macrobes can manipulate the Earth's laws, its people, and bend it in the wrong direction, but they are utterly powerless in the face of Maleldil the Young. The sheer fact that animals could overcome an organization bent on eliminating humanity shows the readers that there had to have been a serious flaw.
N.I.C.E.'s weakness was its lack of power structure. The purported plot to completely abolish true mankind had to remain completely clandestine in order to appeal to the competing interests of the selfish workers of N.I.C.E. Only through manipulating flaws inherent in organizational power structures and through delusion were the Macrobes able to gain significant enough momentum to put the world under their sway.

Upon arrival in the present time, Merlinus expresses his dismay over the lack of a leader "whose office it is to put down tyrants and give life to dying kingdoms." Ransom, however, is able to reestablish this role as Director when he, through the careful operations of the Logres, put down the tyrannical N.I.C.E. The power structure of the Logres is rather clear: It is led by the Pendragon, who has been appointed by Maleldil as the successor to previous Pendragons, the first of which was Arthur. Here we have an explicitly clear case for centralized power, in that the rightful leader is approved by Maleldil. As for the division of power, there is an indirect division of power through labor and the inhabitants' various spiritual gifts; even Ivy Maggs holds a unique role at St. Anne's as the caretaker of Mr. Bultitude and the animals. This power structure is actually more efficient in practice than that of any bureaucratic regime.

The very same ethical problem seen in the N.I.C.E.'s Macrobial motivations arises in the award-winning graphic novel The Watchmen, an expose on the alleged corruption of famous Superheroes. Adrian Veidt, better known as Ozymandias, who is purported to be the "smartest man in the world" and the most successful of the former superheroes in the aftermath of the Keene Act of 1977, deliberately opens Pandora's box through an elaborate scheme involving an alien invasion with the intent to unite the entire world against a common, absolute enemy. In doing this, he uses murder to achieve his means to an end, sacrificing half of New York City's population in the process. His vision of reality and his self absorption with his hierarchical understanding of humanity (under the guise of Eastern Mysticism) has been so distorted that he believes he is doing the world a service; no one deliberately takes the lives of the multitude for more lives to be saved. One should start by saving as many lives as possible in the first place.

The smartest man on the planet became so idealistic that he had to create evil to unite humanity to destroy it. Filostrato believed that the world had to be wiped clean in order to fulfill the biological imperative. Both tried to make the same dream a reality, and both saw their plans infiltrated.

Even so, the N.I.C.E. ended the very way it began: In confusion and chaos. Those who worked at Belbury were following a lie that conformed to their interests and obsessions as the chameleon changes color in his environment, and manipulated situations to their own advantage, only to be caught up in a complicated web of blaming and pointing fingers. Luckily for humanity, there is something so much more powerful than the red tape and naivety of such a power structure: The absolute power of God.

During the day, the average attendees strolling the byways of Austin's downtown area were markedly well-behaved, though a bit loud - typical white, college-aged and twentysomething indie kids. At night, after drinking free (but watered-down) drinks all day long, while not eating much, things became more raucous, but never strayed too out-of-control. Both are expected responses, since, no matter how trendy and/or hip these kids might be, by all demographic standards, these are suburban-raised, middle-to-upper-middle-class white kids who have been raised with a modicum of good manners instilled into them. They might drink too much and they might have a snot-nosed sense of entitlement, but if they bump into you accidentally in the street while raging drunk, they're still going to apologize.

However, throughout it all, the during-a-show behavior put me ill at ease. Everyone was so busy trying to out-cool each other that they neglected the music on the stage. Copious amounts of skin and the coolest of brands were flashed with regularity as people flaunted their hair, sunglasses, t-shirts with appropriately ironic slogans, cutesy attire, and shoes. The music became mere background noise. It was as if these too-cool-for-school folks had moved their hip little conversations out of their lofts and onto the streets of Austin, TX, all for some added scenester credibility.

But I get it - that's what happens at these events: people talk, mingle, schmooze, flirt, debate, haggle, and brag about what's happening in their lives, using the entire venue as their office/bar/hangout. And when you invite in sponsors of any kind, whether it's a music magazine, beverage manufacturer, or line of cars, the focus of the event has shifted from being about the music to being about the money. I am the one who has to remember that, at SXSW and similar events, the music is the pretty, glossy body that attracts people, but money is what drives the vehicle.

Please do not misinterpret my words here - I had a wonderful time patrolling the streets of downtown Austin, TX in search of great music. However, there were times when it was difficult to separate the activities and events from the music. The organizers of SXSW do well to make sure that the event is well orchestrated and well publicized - maps and flyers with show specifics littered the grounds of these very non-green festivities - but this did mean that the obnoxious industry minutiae often overwhelmed the general musical merriment.

The highlight of my experience would easily have to be the Tilly and The Wall show over at Habana Calle 6 as they closed out the Polyvinyl/Team Love Records Showcase on Friday night. The entire night was packed full of music, as 10 bands played from 7pm to 2am, including quality performances from the dreamy folk band A Weather, as well as Capgun Coup who brought the crowd to their figurative feet with a strong, aggressive indie-punk sound. The crowd was really there to see Tilly and the band obliged: the complete TATW ensemble played a raucous, excited set, including five tracks off their upcoming album. The place was packed, even at 1:15 in the morning. The crowd still had enough energy left in them to sing along heartily to the songs they knew and respond well to the ones they did not; the band soaked up all their enthusiasm and channeled it directly into the music.

Houston-based band Electric Touch performed their engaging version of Brit-rock at the Justice Records Showcase at Lucky Lounge. The group deftly brought together The Who and Oasis to a rather appreciative group of attendees, presenting a very accessible, but not very challenging sound. Even more than their sound, their look was a patently over-the-top take on '60s-'70s rock: skinny jeans, open-at-the-chest collared shirts, and heaps of shaggy brown hair. Electric Touch confidently played to the crowd, and as they served up a great cover of The Beatles' "Come Together" towards the end of their set, it was more than evident that this band loves what they do because they certainly show it.

The crowd at the great day show at the French Legation Museum in east Austin (put on by Press Here Publicity), on the other hand, luxuriated in the chill, laid back, picnic-like atmosphere. Hanging around and talking with one's friends made sense in this environment: the music was under a tent, while the food and drinks were scattered about a large, attractive, grassy area. Scottish four-piece Sons and Daughters ramped up the energy with their exciting brand of glammy-punk, complete with a guitar player with Bowie-esque hair and a vampy, crooning, sexy lead singer. The illustrious J. Mascis of Dinosaur Jr. played a brooding and compelling solo set, drawing in the most attention yet from the crowd, as he made sure that people knew he still had his guitar chops, complete with a host of long, winding solos played through a thick layer of fuzz. Thurston Moore (of Sonic Youth) & The New Wave Radicals then took the stage and wowed the crowd with their classic-indie-meets-classic-rock sound. While Thurston did sing on occasion and teasingly interacted with the crowd, the majority of the set was entirely instrumental, much to the delight of a very attentive and appreciative crowd of aging hipsters (complete with kids in strollers!).

The most bittersweet moment of the weekend came when I turned on my inner fanboy to partake of the lovely British songstress Kate Nash. I knew that this would, sadly, be another see-and-be-seen event for the cool people, but I couldn't pass it. Kate stepped onto the stage with a single acoustic guitar and played a string of five songs - "Breakup" (a new track), "Birds," "I Hate Seagulls," "Dickhead," and "Don't You Want To Share The Guilt" - all the while making snide comments that she didn't quite appreciate people talking during her set. But before she could get too sad about the crowd's behavior, Billy Bragg made a surprise appearance, joining Ms. Nash for a few songs. After declaring that he & Kate were brought together by their mutual affinity for the Shangri-Las, the two of them launched into a cover of the group's "Give Him A Great Big Kiss." The unlikely duo then played Bragg's tune "A New England" and finished off the set with Kate's hit single "Foundations," much to the delight of myself and whoever was actually paying attention. Serving as a microcosm of all my negative experiences at SXSW, Kate's set was marred by people who cared more about being at the show than the show itself.

In the end, despite all of my complaining about talkative people and my malaise regarding the trumping of substance with style, SXSW was more than enjoyable. With so much to experience for free, it was unnecessary to invest in an over-priced badge/wristband. I got to see a host of great bands play some rather excellent music, and I made sure that I had fun at all times. It would be easy to piss on those folks who couldn't close their mouths, but I've allowed the cool people to hamper my fun far too often in the past. I would not and did not allow it at SXSW 2008.

Case in point: this recent collection of home demos recorded by Weezer front man Rivers Cuomo. There's obviously a contingent of the world that feels that hearing this artist do a hack job cover of Ice Cube's "The Bomb" or a ridiculous less than one minute heavy riffage experiment given the unfortunate title "Who You Callin' Bitch?" is necessary to understand Cuomo's development as a songwriter or to provide some insight into his methods.

In some respects, this collection delivers just that with a rough version of the band's first major chart hit "Buddy Holly" as well as a handful of songs written specifically for Weezer albums, but that weren't considered for the simple fact that they aren't some of Cuomo's best ideas. Some songs, like "Chess" and the slow dance anthem "I Was Made For You", are cute enough, but are weightless and drifted out of my consciousness three seconds after the songs were over. Everything else on this album, though, is pure chaff, offering up nothing but a stopgap to keep rabid Weezer fans satiated until the next album and tour.