Screwed (2000)

Lightnin' Hopkins originally recorded the ten tracks that make up Free Form Patterns on February 1, 1968, for the International Artists label. Also on that label's roster was the psychedelic group 13th Floor Elevators, which, by 1968, had basically disbanded. For this session, producer Lelan Rogers (Kenny's brother) teamed Hopkins up with Elevators drummer Danny Thomas and bassist Duke Davis. While not as revolutionary as John Lee Hooker's sessions with Canned Heat, Free Form Patterns steers clear of the late-'60s psychedelic trappings that screwed up such similar sessions as Electric Mud. No one tried to bend Hopkins to fit a foreign musical approach on Free Form Patterns; he made the music bend to him.

The first and best wave of L.A. punk bands from 1977-1979 all broke up under-documented and unsigned, with the exception of X, the Germs, and, to a lesser extent, the Plugz. But the legacy of incredible pioneers such as the Weirdos, Dils, Controllers, and Screamers was the wide success of the harder, faster, younger bands that followed. The interest the 1977 bands awakened not only inspired the formation of Black Flag, Circle Jerks, T.S.O.L., Social Distortion, Agent Orange, Fear, the Adolescents, and others, but helped create a national market, enabling the newer bands to find labels, put out albums, and tour regularly. the Adolescents were perhaps the first of this second wave to put out an LP widely distributed throughout the U.S., selling well over five digits in 1981 (following on the heels of San Francisco's Dead Kennedys, who broke the doors open with their immortal Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables the previous year).

The second half of the '90s was difficult for the Cranberries, not just because of changing fashions, but because the group embraced both a social consciousness and a prog rock infatuation, crystallized by the Storm Thorgerson cover of Bury the Hatchet. Thorgerson has been retained for their fifth effort, Wake Up and Smell the Coffee, but the group has hardly pursued the indulgent tendencies of their previous collaboration with him – instead, they've re-teamed with producer Stephen Street and come up with an album that's as reminiscent of their debut as anything they've done since. So, even if it's wrapped in new clothing, this is essentially a return to basics, and it's a welcome one, since it's melodic, stately, and somber – perhaps not with the post-Sundays grace of "Linger," but with a dogged sense of decorum that keeps not just the group's musical excesses in check, but also O'Riordan's political polemics (although she still sneaks in cringe-inducing lines like "Looks like we've screwed up the ozone layer/I wonder if the politicians care").

There's no denying Australian heavy rock trio Wolfmother has been raised on rock – specifically, raised on '70s rock. Problem is, from all appearances on their eponymous debut, they made their journey into the past via the twin gateway drugs of the White Stripes and Queens of the Stone Age, and once they dug back to the original Zeppelin and Sabbath texts (stopping along the way for some Soundgarden discs and maybe, for lyrical inspiration, Yes and Rush), they indulged so much it screwed with their sense of aesthetics.