Miss Massive Snowflake is one Shane de Leon of Portland, Oregon. This multi-instrumentalist and songwriter played with the experimental group Rollerball for ten years, and he has recorded and performed with numerous bands and artists. "Queen’s Headache" is a felicitous romp full of playful tunes that sound like what might happen if Ween were to sneak into one of the classrooms in Jack Black’s "School Of Rock" and host an impromptu fantasy music camp for kids. This is by no means a knock on the music, which is really catchy and chock full of intriguing and diverse instrumentation. It is rather a very positive indictment on the booster-shot-sized injection of youthful exuberance and fun brought to this CD by its many young contributors, and the apparently young-at-heart ringleader, de Leon. The opening cut is a sweet and serene instrumental entitled "Satsuma." "Bombs Away" follows with a sad and scathing political message woven into a simple, understated melody. Larry Yes lends his vocal talents on "Swing of Hair," a love-infused ditty with a banjo appetizer and a mildly funky feel. "Hillarianos" introduces us to child vocalist Micah Von Werssowetz as he riffs about being a robot over a mild dose of television static. This mirth goes out the window as Von Werssowetz switches gears in "The Hunt," a creepy piece that sounds as though it might’ve been authored by Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris! Things simmer down considerably after that, though, with "Meredith," a mellow guitar melody with a soothing beat and a few juicy midi horns thrown in for kicks. "Who Wrecked the Party" sees the return of Larry Yes on lead vocals with music by DJ Faccia di Merda. A buzzing beat hops ?round with middle-eastern influenced drums as children from the Choral Kinders ask "who wrecked the party?" About a minute into this tune, Yes uncorks one of the most absurd raps ever penned, sounding like Larry Nye-does-G-rated-Eminem. This is "better-not-listen-to-it-for-the-first-time-while-driving-because-it’s-so-amusing-you-may-wreck-your-car" funny! "Draggish Friends" features child vocalist Kiana Monihan offering a brief update on the situation in Iraq. Werssowetz reappears on "I Don’t Know," though you wouldn’t know as his vocals are heavily processed and hidden behind a beefy beat with some ham & eggs keyboards on the side. "One I’ve Been Waiting For" is a lovely, low-fi cover of a tune by Raleigh, N.C.-based alt-rockers, Remora. "Fossil Fissure" is an unsettling statement on invasion and death with Kiana Monihan and de Leon on vocals. The edge is taken off once again as this is followed by the spunky instrumental "Sunday, Monday," and then "Cake," which appears to be a fondly reminiscent dedication to a friend. Somber tones return on "The Mexican," but the disc closes out with a laugh on "26 Names," as Marley Von Werssowetz drops a list of playground insults describing Miss Massive Snowflake – one for each letter – over bongo beats and a slow chord progression. A-Alligator Breath... B-Butthead... etc. Too much comedy! As an added bonus, the disc also includes videos for five of the songs in quicktime format. The disc and a lyric sheet are housed inside of a colorful sleeve within a nice digipak-type slipcase with a beautifully letterpressed cover. The playful artwork and design are products of de Leon’s fertile imagination and should provide a clue for the listener that fun times are ahead. One of the true joys of being a music reviewer is discovering hidden treasures – releases I probably would not have otherwise come across that appeal to me so much I would have happily dropped some coin to add them to my collection. "Queen’s Headache" fits firmly into that category!

Improvisational pianist Scott R. Looney, currently based in Oakland, California, has been highly active in the experimental and improvisational music scenes and has an impressive resume of work and study alongside many renowned improvisers, such as Henry Kaiser, Oliver Lake, and Morton Subotnick. "Repercussions," his first release in seven years, reveals a combination of technical skill and creativity that is truly engrossing. Traditional playing, demonstrating the artist’s intimate relationship with the instrument, is enhanced by "hyper piano" styling (including prepared elements), which opens up a host of new possibilities. A few passages are somewhat dark and brooding, such as "Intermittent," which lopes along before a erupting in a minimally climactic outburst at the end. The somber and drowsy moments are vastly outnumbered and overshadowed by hard-charging, frenetically paced runs and high-flying fingering that dominate the release. "luxtasEnTempore" and "Lissajous," for instance, thrive on agitated frenzies of rapid-fire runs, dips, and dives. Percussive sounds dot the landscape, adding depth to the staccato keyboard hammerings during certain tracks. There is some particularly intense clamor during "Rummage," in which it seems Looney fairly ransacks the piano, using every part to produce an array of accompanying sounds. My hat is off to Mr. Looney for actualizing this wonderfully eclectic body of improvisational music.

Damon Waitkus is a composer who uses found sounds and home-made musical devices in conjunction with traditional instruments to craft an intriguing brew of experimental sound that draws heavily on contemporary classical and rock influences. Originally from Boston, Massachusetts, he has studied with Fred Frith, Alvin Curran, and many other notable instructors. He is currently pursuing a Ph.D. at UC Berkeley. His debut release, "Anxiety," presents six richly diverse tracks that cover an astonishing range of sound and feelings. The disc begins with the title track, an aptly-titled twenty two minute odyssey that focuses heavily on interplay between various percussion sources (including piano and wine glasses) and stringed instruments, and features violinist Emily Packard and cellist David McNally as collaborators. There are bleak valleys and lulls, tense peaks of sound, deliciously discordant string squabbling, and a wondrously uneasy miasma of moaning that halts abruptly just before the track ends. Next is the fantastically titled "How, over years, the nose may hook, as presaged by occasional flares in character." Guitarist Jacob Kramer contributes a pleasantly mellow segment of fret-exploration on this tune. "Transmit 1" moves in an entirely different direction, with ominous chords from the piano jostling for position with a low, windy howl and bird-like sounds that are eventually chased off by an insistent and almost sensually urgent band of unidentifiable aroused beasts! Another corner is turned in "Bas-relief," which pits the oboe of Meave Cox against the soprano sax of Jonathan Russell. The two instruments playfully tussle over who'll lead the dance in this perky little harmonious gem. The mood shifts again entirely in "You Are Vulnerable," with Waitkus retreating briefly into a somewhat aloof posture. "Transit 2," the closing piece, crawls slowly back out of the shell, with a more menacing feel than any of the other tracks. The shower of tinkling highs and murmuring lows emanating from the piano are sufficient to tighten the gut a bit, like the anticipation of some unsuspecting sap about to "get it" in a horror flick. An excellent effort!

Multi-instrumentalist and composer Peter Martin started Eddie the Rat as a solo experimental project in 2000 as an outlet for electro-acoustic composition. Over the next year, the project grew into a performing ensemble, usually consisting of a dozen or more musicians at any given time, many from other bands in the San Francisco area. "Insomnia Sound Bible" provides a picture of these collaborations. This is a soundtrack for the somnambulist – sixteen selections prescribed in a single dose – designed to guide the sleepwalker through his restless ordeal. There are very few moments when some sonic vision is not tormenting the senses. The instrumentation is fascinating. Electronic sounds mingle with trumpets, clarinets, violins, cellos, varied drums and percussion instruments – even a triangle! There are certain moments that are extremely dense, in songs such as "Freak Out & Die," and "Lip-synching at Zero Gravity" which sound like an experimental symphony of sorts with a multitude of instruments providing a veritable smorgasbord of sound. Some passages are sparser, such as the three "Ronnie Camaro" tracks and the even more desolate "Where Do You Bleed?" The sound is never muddy, though, and engineer Jon Meyer deserves some serious credit for managing to corral all of these sounds so effectively. True to its name, this collection of songs really does evoke the feeling of wandering about within one’s own psyche, the fleeting glimpses of so many disorganized thoughts playing tantalizingly across the mind’s eye in a dream-like state from which one cannot escape. Blissfully bizarre!

Robert Owens’ "Night Time Stories" begins with an audio montage of voices intoning the artist’s name, and stating "Who?" and "never heard of him." True, it has been over ten years since Owens’ last full artist album, but anyone familiar with the Chicago house scene will surely know this talented vocalist, producer, and DJ. 1989’s "Tears" remains one of the great house anthems of all time. For the uninitiated, this disc provides a solid taste of Owens’ golden voice, which mixes gloriously with the upbeat, lush grooves laid down by Owens and an impressive cast of producers. Standout tracks are abundant, with the Jimpster-produced "Inside My World" giving the disc a quick liftoff into minimalist time-space, with a healthy infusion of silky and soulful vocals. "I’m Chained," produced by Ian Pooley, is deftly layered and designed to unleash one’s dancing instincts. The pace of "Never Give Up" is slower than most other tracks on the disc, but the inspiring message and driving beat make this Charles Webster-produced tune one of the more striking efforts. The crown jewel, though, is "Merging" – a nine and a half minute anthem, produced by TJ Kong & Nuno Dos Santos. Hypnotic and powerful, this cut will no doubt return Owens to his rightful place at the forefront of the contemporary house music scene. "Listen," encourages the outro track... "it’s all about the music!"