Three 65, Day 55
Melvins, Houdini

Melvins are a power trio (except when they're a four piece) from the Seattle area, consisting of Buzz Osbourne on guitar/vocals, Dale Crover on drums, and whoever is unlucky enough to be playing bass guitar with them at any given time. The reason I say "unlucky" is because Melvins (I refuse to call them "the" Melvins, I don't care what the press notes say, la la la la la) go through bass players like a pubescent boy goes through Kleenex and Vaseline.

Despite this problem with the bottom end, they're one of the best bands around. You want to talk about grunge, forget Nirvana, and fucking forget Pearl Jam - this is the real shit, right here. Slow, dirty, and heavy as fuck, Melvins have been churning shit out for over 20 years, without hiatuses or vacations to slow them down. And while some of it may be downright unlistenable - once every four or five releases, Melvins screws the pooch and releases something you just can't enjoy, just, like, a full hour of feedback or something - much of it is very, very good.

Houdini is the best of the best. From the rumbling intro of "Night Goat" to the spry pop of "Set Me Straight," this record finds the band at the height of its powers. Maybe it's because Kurt Cobain had recently introduced Melvins to a major label and helped produce, or maybe it was just their turn to be amazing. Who else could make a cover of Kiss' "Goin' Blind" into a funeral dirge, huh?

I saw Melvins open for Primus in 1993, shortly after starting college, and at the time, I had no idea who the hell they were. They scared the pants off of me with a cover of Led Zeppelin's "When The Levee Breaks" before roaring through "Hooch," the first number on Houdini. "Hooch" is nothing but nonsense words strung together by heavy percussion and turgid metal riffs. Come to think of it, that describes every Melvins song. Long may they rule!

Three 65, Day 54
Jesu, Silver EP

Jesu is a project that falls under the "Justin K. Broadrick" umbrella. For those of you out there who don't know who Broadrick is (probably many of you), here's a quick refresher course. He was a pioneering member of Napalm Death, back before grindcore even had a name, and went on to found Godflesh, one of the best industrial bands in existence. After their demise, he took on a lot of other names - Techno Animal, Ice, Final, etc. - but the one that garnered the most interest was Jesu.

Initially a combination of My Bloody Valentine-style feedback washes and crushing guitar and drums, Jesu quickly morphed into the closest thing Broadrick has ever done that's "pop." Silver was his second release, and it opened up the door to exposure in a lot more venues than Broadrick had ever enjoyed before.

The title track opens the record with lush, melodic guitars and a wave of purest feedback. Somewhere in there, Broadrick's vocals - usually grunting and drill-sergeant shouting - croon about age and death in a style that's almost palatable. "Star" is one of the best pop songs he's ever recorded, a long piece with propulsive drumming that picks up the energy level and carries it straight through to the remaining two tracks, "Wolves" and "Dead Eyes." (Someone at Pitchfork.com once said you could assemble any number of indie band names from the song titles found here. Haha, Pitchfork - one on you.)

The entire record effectively captures the mood caught on the front cover of the album: that of being lost in a large, foggy wood somewhere around dawn, deep in the winter. It's cold, it's lonely, it's aching - everything a Jesu album should be.

Three 65, Day 53
Black Sabbath, Master Of Reality

Master Of Reality was where Black Sabbath really refined its sound into a pure, elemental force. The first album, Black Sabbath, had a lot of dabbling in proto-metal and blues, and the second album, the landmark Paranoid, was a breath of fresh air. But Reality is where the band really hits the mark.

The most important thing to remember in talking about early Black Sabbath is, simply, when these albums were first released, there were no reference points. Sure, there was stuff by The Doors, and Blue Cheer, and a couple of others. But Black Sabbath was doing something no one else had even considered. Metal? What the fuck was that? Even vocalist Ozzy Osbourne, for decades the very face of heavy metal, couldn't fathom the term.

So what sounds staid to your ears is really revolutionary, considering the time period. Take the soloing halfway through "After Forever," which hasn't appeared - anywhere (except maybe on a Sabbath album) - previously. Ditto the solid riffing, which was like blues sped up to a gallop. (And people call Sabbath "slow and crushing.")

"Sweet Leaf" opens the album with a paean to pot, one of Ozzy's (many) drugs of choice. The aforementioned "After Forever" gets inside the head of a religious man, which is valiant, considering many of Black Sabbath's songs deal with the devil. "Children Of The Grave" features one of the most identifiable, beautiful riffs to ever darken a heavy metal song. One listen to that throbbing grind and you can actually hear the furious dead kids stampeding across the English countryside.

Sabbath would release other good albums - they still had three decent ones left in them at the time of this record's release, although ambition - and, to a lesser extent, keyboards - would eventually do them in. But for my money, if I'm going to listen to Sabbath, and I want the pure stuff, I turn to Master Of Reality, every time.

Three 65, Day 52
System Of A Down, Toxicity

Combining the genre-hopping fluidity of Mr. Bungle, the political angst of Rage Against The Machine, and the full-on metal attack of Slayer, System Of A Down are one of the few "nu-metal" bands that sounds like they're actually evolving the heavy metal scene.

I bought Toxicity when it first came out, and I had my reservations. I hadn't liked their first album so much; "Sugar" was a great song, but I thought the band's reach exceeded its grasp. Not so on Toxicity. Here, the band is fully in control of both its sound and its ambition.

The album starts off with the furious "Prison Song," which features the unforgettable couplet "All research and successful drug policy shows that treatment should be increased / And law enforcement decreased while abolishing mandatory minimum sentences" (try fitting that to a 4/4 beat) and rightly takes the American penal system to task.

From there, it's off to the races. The album doesn't slow down until track 6 (the excellent, bipolar "Chop Suey"), with thrashing guitars, wild drumming, and the insane vocals of Serj Tankian, whose range is almost as broad as Mike Patton's. Even the slower songs (the title track, "Aerials") that show up towards the opposite end of the record are among the finest metal recorded in this century.

Unfortunately, this would be the last good System Of A Down album, for one reason and one reason only: They let one of the guitarists sing on the follow-up. Sure, Serj Tankian sings as well, but the guitarist in question, Damon Malakian, should not be allowed near a microphone. Ever. Compared to the full throttle roar of Tankian, Malakian sounds like a whiny little brother. After a lengthy hiatus, the band has returned; please, please, PLEASE keep the whiny little prick away from the mic.

Three 65, Day 51
Misfits, Walk Among Us

File under pop-punk (really): The Misfits were never the hardcore band hardcore fans wanted them to be. One listen to their first album, Walk Among Us, is enough to prove that.

The Misfits were originally fronted by Glenn Danzig, before he was, you know, (gothic voice) "Danzig." Back when he still had a sense of humor, in other words. Taking their cues from 50s and 60s b-movies in the horror and sci-fi genres, the Misfits quickly became known for ferocious live shows and a guitar-driven attack that merged poppy harmonies with psychotic metal.

Take "I Turned Into A Martian," the album's second track. It starts off heavy, but soon enough, Danzig's doing that "whoa-whoa" thing with his voice like an Elvis impersonator. The showmanship of the King runs deep in the Misfits' DNA; all you have to do is listen to the opening seconds of the live track, "Mommy Can I Go Out & Kill Tonight," and hear Danzig say "Yuh!" before launching into the song. That's all. It's such a lip-curled tribute that the next minute, as thrashing as it is (and it is thrashing), is almost forgotten in the joke of the moment.

The Misfits released a couple of other albums, including Static Age, which were quite good. Eventually, Danzig decided to form Samhain, and then the band Danzig, and things were never quite the same. Some members reformed in the 90s (if you can count the drummer's roadie's brother's cousin's roommate a former member), and as things stand, the band is just laughable. If you're going to go out for the Misfits, insist on the originals.