Secret Wars



Like pre-major-label Monster Magnet, Oneida make psychedelic rock that leaves bruises. On their sixth album, the Brooklyn trio doesn't flaunt the kind of anarchic energy that catalyzed 2002's Each One Teach One, but it's still as bracing as the battle scenes in Fight Club. Oneida still sound like they're trying to shatter your skull and rearrange the fragments into prettier new shapes, but now they do so in ways other than brute force. "Caesar's Column" and "The Last Act, Every Time" venture into ethno-rock territory with gongs and ukulele, respectively, while "Treasure Plane" nods to the chimed fuzziness of former indierock heroes Chavez and Polvo. The melodic grunge ballad "Wild Horses" gets obliterated by "$50 Tea"'s Bullet Train chugging and "Winter Shaker," an homage to maniacal guitar-army composer Glenn Branca. Oneida aren't stars, but there music will make you see them. DAVE SEGAL


Yeah EP



With Yeah, LCD Soundsystem (led by James Murphy) top the universally loved "Losing My Edge," the peak of "disco-punk." "Yeah (Crass Version)" is loose-limbed, Liquid Liquid-like funk that gradually accelerates into an acid-squelch/analog-bleepin'/conga-poundin' jam that's as euphoric as the Jetsons theme song. "Yeah (Pretentious Version)" cruises out of the gate like a blaxploitation version of Neu!'s "Hallogallo" (a funky motorik rhythm you want to last forever). LCD stretch out like session pros on a mellow high, vamping on a pothole-free groove embroidered with droning Irmin Schmidt organ, chicken-scratch-wah guitar, a purring bass line, and, later, clattering percussion, Herbie Hancock ca. 1972 keyboards, and more burning-elastic twang from the 303 (a lot happens during the song's 11 minutes). Listening to this, you imagine yourself zipping down the Autobahn in a canary-yellow Benz, feeling like a million deutsche marks. DS


The Epic

(Temporary Residence)


Nightfist begin their debut disc more pompously than Moody Blues playing Days of Future Passed with the London Festival Orchestra. By track 2, "Chapter 1: The Hero's Overture," Nightfist are bloviating in melodramatic, melodic metal mode, with cheese-filigreed keyboard motifs and rococo, bombastic guitar overtures. As each hard-charging, symphonic-schlock number passes, you think, "This must be a Spinal Tap-esque parody." But the label insists Nightfist aren't ironic, that "this is for real," that these Menlo Park, California d00ds are barely out of high school, and they're into unfashionable bands like Queen, Metallica, Dream Theater, and Yes. If this is the case, Nightfist are painfully sincere savants of heroic, master-of-the-universe hokum. Their future is bright, indeed. DS

**** Patty-Cake

*** Paddy Wagon

** Pat Morita

* Patty Duke