Emocore is a style in which young men with backgrounds in rough punk try their hands at singer-songwriterish introspection. Jets to Brazil have eliminated even more of their punk roots than most emo bands: Their new album sounds more like a collegiate version of Randy Newman, less like punk. Songs like "One Summer Last Fall" and "Mid-Day Anonymous" are spectral, intent on recording lead singer Blake Schwarzenbach's feelings and impressions rather than offering sustained narratives or observations. It adds up to extremely circular music, bold enough to drive some rock fans mad and to enthrall others. Four Cornered Night is an album that can be endlessly brooded upon -- it's music that only references itself, for people who -- as Schwarzenbach sings in "Pale New Dawn" -- are rarely excited by "the shape of things to come." (JAMES HUNTER -- RS 849)

Amil All Money Is Legal (Roc-a-Fella/Columbia)

You remember Amil as the sassy female rapper who stole the second verse of Jay-Z's immortal "Can I Get A . . .," boasting of her gold-digging technique, "You ain't gotta be rich, but fuck that/How we gonna get around? On your bus pass?" Her debut album is worth the wait: She's the Roc-a-Fella moll, the cool girl who runs with the hot boyz, the Angie Dickinson of Jay-Z's Rat Pack. Amil gets the sort of hard, sleek Brooklyn trouble-funk beats that you expect from the Jigga franchise, but her wispy, deceptively girlish voice is her own, and so is her perspective on how the hard-knock life is. "I Got It" is her theme song, and the gritty street-wise details of her rhymes, along with the elegantly bruised hurt in her voice, let you hear how hard she worked to get it.

In the amazing title track, Amil paints a picture of a thug world where everything's up for sale, where the strong prey on the weak, where the ladies keep losing more the longer they play the game. She finds her consolation in God ("Smile 4 Me"), sisterhood ("Girlfriend"), and da fam ("For da Fam"). But the music offers a surprisingly consistent background of bass bump, and Amil's flow doesn't falter at all -- she gleams like the ice in her glass as well as the ice on her wrist. This year has seen a strong crop of female rappers, but Amil already sounds like she's ready for a spot on the all-star team. (ROB SHEFFIELD -- RS 848)

John Wesley Harding The Confessions of St. Ace (Mammoth)

Though The Confessions of St. Ace will probably be heralded as folkie John Wesley Harding's first "pop" album since his 1991 sophomore release The Name Above the Title, he has displayed his fluency in the pop vocabulary throughout all his work. With deft stylistic shifts -- as from the string-and keyboard-laced acoustic offerings of 1996's John Wesley Harding's New Deal to the flirtation with hip-hop production techniques on 1998's Awake -- Harding has consistently expanded the singer-songwriter's palette while keeping his experiments anchored with his strong sense of melody and songcraft. So it should come as little surprise how potent Harding's new tunes sound when polished to a high gloss, whether he's pulling a leaf from the classic-soul songbook ("I'm Wrong About Everything," featured in the movie High Fidelity) or employing subtle Beatle-isms ("Humble Bee"). But though they go down easy, at the center of these twelve candied confections are heaping helpings of Harding's trademark barbed wit, making this a delight for those who like their pop with a punch. (MICHAEL ANSALDO)

Bim Skala Bim Krinkle (Beatville)

Though they hail from the same ska-punk scene in Boston as the Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Bim Skala Bim have never enjoyed the kind of sales as their brethren. But don't confuse commercial success with artistic success, the latter of which the Bim boys have had in spades. On this, the other B.S.B. -- who are stylistically closer to Sublime and the Toasters than any boy band -- deliver more than a dozen slices of British-style ska reminiscent of the Specials and Madness. Happy, peppy and horny, their tunes "Step Up To Me" and "Long Way" sound like the kind drunken frat rats love to pogo too, while the laid-back reggae-influenced rhythms of "Food for the Soul" and their catchy cover of Gershwin's "Popcorn" will give rude boys a chance to catch their breath. (PAUL SEMEL)

Teddy Thompson Teddy Thompson (Virgin)

Following in the footsteps of a superstar may be tough, but living up to the legacy of a cult hero is probably even more intimidating -- what with rabid fans hoping that the oddball gene doesn't skip a generation and all. Teddy Thompson -- begat by Richard and Linda -- doesn't shy away from that familial legacy on his debut album, but he doesn't exactly chase after it, either. The twenty-four-year-old singer-songwriter offers the odd nod to his father -- who contributes his distinctive guitar work to several tunes here -- but seems better versed in the gospels according to John (Lennon) and Matthew (Sweet). As such, songs like "Brink of Love" and "Thanks a Lot" resound with both sweet harmonies and bitter cynicism -- a combination that's sure to please the palates of power-pop diehards. That number, however, is dwindling, making Thompson's somewhat mannered approach a bit of an anomaly. But since he's aware enough to address that problem by venturing outside the self-imposed parameters on the moody "Missing Children" -- which features a cameo from fellow second-generationer Rufus Wainwright -- there's reason to believe Teddy will be more than just a history-book footnote separating his pop and the Thompson Twins. (DAVID SPRAGUE)

Caviar Fantasy (Island)

Even though this Chicago outfit is made up of former members of Figdish, it's hard to resist a band that stutters out of the starting gate to the sound of sleazy glam guitars and mouths the words: "She got the goldmine, I got the shaft/I'm 747, she's anti-aircraft." This love song is, naturally, titled "Goldmine," and it's an unexpected kiss on the lips from people who squandered most of the Nineties as useless post-grunge also-rans. Caviar is not the first band to find inspiration in everything 1973, but it is one of the few that strikes just the right balance between retro fawning and the here and now. Fantasy is a sweet, uplifting album, with the sticky melodies and buzzsaw guitar licks of "Tangerine Speedo" and "Automatic Yawns" shining the brightest. A massive improvement. (AIDIN VAZIRI)

Dar Williams The Green World (Razor & Tie)

Credit Dar Williams for continuing to spread her musical wings. Too often a folk-fanbase can turn on the singer-songwriter who chooses to broaden his/her creative palette, but on her fourth album, Williams continues to grow stylistically, proving to be as interested in the song as the lyric. "What Do You Love More Than Love" and "I Won't Be Your Yoko Ono" prove to be as catchy as anything in Williams' repertoire, while "After All" establishes a tastefully spooky mood with its washes of organ. All in all, The Green World isn't the striking departure that 1997's End of Summer was. But it does find another winning effort from Williams -- one that again finds her refusing to be contained by any boundaries suggested by the "folk" label. (ANDREW DANSBY)

Cold 13 Ways to Bleed On Stage (Interscope)

Probably the best thing about Cold's second album is that while playing it, it's not unreasonable to think that people will finally snap and demand the end of the disposable metal era. Surely hearing the same vague angst and non-specific tales of woe as told in "Witch" and "Sick of Man," over and over, is beginning to wear on listeners worldwide. Or maybe the same tired whisper-to-a-scream dynamics ("Send in the Clowns," "Confession") that Nirvana re-popularized nearly a decade ago has at last worn out its welcome. The album's lone bright spot "No One" nearly attains anthem status, but gets bogged down a little too deep in Cold's miserable swamp of pain to ever truly get off the ground. Probably the worst thing about Cold's second album is that given today's morbid musical climate, they may soon join hometown pals and labelmates Limp Bizkit at the top of the charts. (COLIN DEVINISH)

David Wilcox What You Whispered (Vanguard)

David Wilcox's approachable adult pop and engaging vocal style have earned him comparisons to James Taylor, although some may argue his eighth album sounds closer to Loudon Wainwright. Either way, disciples of both should find themselves drawn to songs like the banjo-nurtured contagion "This Tattoo" or the gleaming acoustic-stemmed "Deeper Still." Love-losing lyrics like "In the tears you gave to me/I found a river to an ocean" (from the latter) get translated through a strong and evocative performance. Additional gems, such as Wilcox's sturdy relationship commentary "Start With the Ending" or his skulking blue-eyed soul romp "Rule Number One" are also keepers. Although the Maryland-based singer's charm starts to wane on disposable items like the funk-logged "Whisper of the Wheels" and the sluggish axe-store tribute "Guitar Shopping," much of What You Whispered warrants repeated spins. (JOHN D. LUERSSEN)

Teen Idols Full Leather Jacket (Honest Don's/Fat Wreck Chords)

A confusing, bait and switch third effort from four Nashville punks unwilling to fully commit to the 1950s, leather jackets, Lucky Strikes, Hot Rods and Pomade shtick promised in their press photos. Sandwiched awkwardly between sugary, boy/girl harmony-laced rave-ups about the heyday of swamp and space horror schlock and power-chord doo-wop hooks -- hand-claps and all -- is some goofy, Pennywise-esque socio-poli-hardcore and the obligatory "livin-in-a-van-is-soooooo-punk/united-we-can-never-be-defeated" album closing anthem ("The Team"). The bland production flatlines otherwise splendid playing but the real problem is the Teen Idols' idealistic belief that their novelty can be turned on and off. Hey, if you're gonna take Rome, then take Rome. I don't wanna close up the auto shop early just so I can stroll down to the pool hall and hear three cats and a kitten dressed like extras from Crybaby singing, "Without your bland rhetorical blurbs/You're naked and absurd." (GREG HELLER)

Sleepy LaBeef Tomorrow Never Comes (MC Records)

The tired knock on Sleepy LaBeef is that his live shows are incendiary, but he doesn't always bring that same energy to his recording. Well, fine, it's really just restating the obvious, as few musicians in the world put on the show that LaBeef does. But the secret is that LaBeef can still churn out a helluva album. Blurring the lines between rockabilly, roadhouse blues, rock & roll and country, the notion of genre is useless with LaBeef, and Tomorrow catches his hearty mix of Americana. "Poke Salad Annie" is a terrific Cajun stomp, while "Raining in My Heart" features the gutbucket honky-tonk sad song to perfection. LaBeef's voice is still in fine form, that rare rockabilly baritone that allows him the range he needs to shift from style to substyle. And his picking remains tasteful and nimble. It's been estimated that LaBeef knows more than 6,000 songs; the fourteen here are a perfect cross-section of his, and our, music history. (DANSBY)

Various Artists Rebirth of the Loud (Priority Records)

Rock was meant to be loud, otherwise it would've been called something else, right? Rebirth of the Loud takes that tenet to the max, fusing thrash rock, hardcore punk and hip-hop-infused metal in such a heart racing manner, you almost expect to hear a medic scream "Clear!" Best tracks are the speed-punk revamp of Ice Cube's "It Was a Good Day," the Rage Against the Machine-like "Slither" by hardcore/straight edge vets Earth Crisis and the anti-anthemic "Coma America" by Amen. Crank up the volume and nuke the friggin' neighbors! (ADRIAN ZUPP)

George Thorogood and the Destroyers Anthology (Capitol/EMI)

After thirty years in the business, George Thorogood's lived to see his signature snakeskin return to the fashion fore. Similarly, his brand of rough and ready blues-rock sounds as fresh as the day he made it -- this collection of slide guitar led honkers and shouters is a testament to the power of his blues. The boastful "Bad to the Bone" is the tune most closely associated with him, yet there are plenty of other contenders: from his version of Hank Williams' "Move It On Over" to his first hit, John Lee Hooker's "One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer" and his own "I Drink Alone." The gruff-voiced, master slide artist with the unique, punky-retro tone duck walks through thirty songs from his catalog --most of them with epic jams. The two-disc set includes six live tracks, (he goes gonzo on "Night Time"), the unreleased rarity "Christine" (an old Hound Dog Taylor song from an EP) and extensive liner notes. Sure, Thorogood is essentially an interpreter of the blues, but there's hardly an artist who's done it with more hard rockin' devotion. This Anthology underscores his greatest talent -- the ability to turn classics (Bo Diddley's "Who Do You Love?", Elmore James' "Madison Blues") into his own. (DENISE SULLIVAN)

(August 29, 2000)