**** Judge Mills Lane
*** Moral Court Judge
** Judge Joe Brown
* Hot new People’s Court Judge


Lyricist Lounge 2
(Rawkus Records)

The Lyricist Lounge series is a great starter kit for people who are interested in hip hop, yet are only familiar with other kinds of music--like maybe adult contemporary or classical or um, maybe their church choir. Otherwise, this CD ends up capitalizing on a lot of mediocre hip hop artists who are capable of much more. Take Dilated Peoples for example, with their track "Right and Exact." It's good, I guess, but they've done much, much better--quicker turnaround on lyrics, more concise melodies, more sophisticated sounds. Without stellar tracks, this album gathers no momentum and ends up sounding kind of like cruising with the high schoolers on Saturday night down Burnside. Yuck. KATIA DUNN



Unlike the Prodigy, Underworld, or the Chemical Brothers, Daft Punk was the only group bound up in the major-label "electronica" frenzy with a foot planted in the underground. With tracks off their Homework debut like "Da Funk" and "Around the World," they channeled the sound of Chicago house (both past and present) into a fun and imaginative full-length that worked as well at home as on the dance floor. The reason that Discovery is not the groundbreaking album some anticipated is self-evident. It's full of the same type of (now stale) heavily processed disco samples, not to mention the similarly cliché overuse of such retro elements as Dr. Who-type synth lines and the once-sacred vocoder. They've delivered an album of club throwaways, and songs (such as "Face to Face," with its sample-frenzy intro) that merely hint at the originality that Homework delivered. ELLIOTT ADAMS

Permanent For Now


Witness this chain of events: I put this album in the CD player. My mouth dropped. Our intern began laughing. Rob Crocker, the publisher of this paper, did a sardonic surf-dance... like the kind your uncles do at weddings... only he was kidding. On first listen, Seattle's Tuffy had our entire office wallowing in awe at their tired, G'n'R-aping riffs. On second listen, we felt uncomfortable at the knowledge that an otherwise decent label like Loveless (named for the owners' love of My Bloody Valentine) would so obviously and painfully try to jump on the (virtually dead) Seattle garage-rock bandwagon. I can see it now: "Hey, Seattle likes garage rock more than space rock, so let's boost hometown sales by releasing this record!" Song-wise, Tuffy has absolutely no creative ambition. They incorporate aspects of pop-punk, garage, surf-rock, etc., and it's all done to a formulaic T. And unless you're a chemist, formula almost always equals boring. Or, in this case, initally funny. JULIANNE SHEPHERD