In the abstract, the concept of The Judy's (and their music) might appear to be just a little too glib. Here we have a band comprised of three members only several laps out of high school, who with minimum instrumentation (basically lead guitar, bass, drum and some synthesizer, though many songs don't even feature all these) perform songs about recent everits ("Guyana Punch," "Vacation in Tehran") television ("T.V.," "Rerun," "Won't Somebody Please Kill Marlo Thomas") and romance, mostly from an immediate, postadolescent point of view ("Her Wave," "Girls! Girls! Girls!"). One can easily see where this might sound like the kind of group that made music which would be cute the first time or two you heard it, but might soon get rather boring.

But that kind of detached critical view could only exist in the abstract, because when you hear the Judy's music live or on record you realize it is infectious, joyous rock at its best, with more hooks to lure the listener into a song than it seems possible to fit into the one-to twoand-a-half minute lengths of most of their material.

Lead singer David Bean's voice has a power to it as well as a unique timbre that is both exciting and intoxicating. His vocal manipulations are theatrical in nature, as he carefully paces and builds a song. Toward this end he is aided by the excellent work of drummer Dane Cessac and bass-player Jeff Walton, as well as by his own guitar and keyboard work. The music blends with Bean's voice to create an unusual aural texture. Thus a song like "Guyana Punch" works, not because it pays simple lip service to the event, but because it manages to convey the essence of the charismatic, spiritual evil that made what transpired at Jonestown so terrifying and yet so fascinating.

This album features many of their best songs, including "Guyana Punch," "All the Pretty Girls," and "T.V." Despite a rather odd mix(with the bass part way too prominent,) the record works. Even though it doesn't manage to convey all the magic of a live performance by this band, it amply and satisfyingly indicates their suprisingly sophisticated strength as song craftsmen.

-- Louis Black

In the wake of Bob Marley's untimely death, the fans of reggae music have been looking for a new messiah. Reggae's royalty could go to Gregory Isaacs or to Michael Rose & Black Uhuru. Rose sings with enough passion to part any sea. His songwriting is first-rate, attacking the political spectrum as well as demonstrating a knack for an entracing love song. Black Uhuru makes an ideal vehicle for these songs, combining elements of the best reggae vocal trios (Heptones, Culture, Gladiators). Their backup band is, of course, Sly Dunbar, Robbie Shakespeare and the Revolutionaries, who have something to do with 98 percent of the product to escape Jamaica.

The result is a distinctive brand of reggae that is pleasant to the ear and employs all the latest dub techniques possible from the masters of the art. This is the best reggae released so far this year, SD don't miss out. Black Uhuru is the future.

-- Jack Karzter

Debbie Harry being produced by Bernard Edwards and Nile Rodgers? Tres Chic (if you'll pardon the saying) and, on paper at least, something of a dream date. Harry and her lover, Svengali Chris Stein, must have imagined her singing and their brilliant use of rhythmic spaces coming together for something as intoxicating as "Call Me," and Stein's unflagging desire to place himself and Harry in the vanguard of pop dovetails nicely with Rodgers and Edwards' status as the reigning wizards of black music.

Well, it's been pointed out before that the shadow falls somewhere between the idea and the reality, and KooKoo is no exception. Most of the album could be a soundtrack for a movie called "I, A Singer" as Harry fails to find the cheery insousiance she needs for Rodgers and Edwards' charmingly dumb Iyrics and Stein's conceptual failures. She's rarely sounded more flat and unconvincing, and the producers mark time with music dull enough to fill a niche on an AOR playlist. Then the record turns itself around abruptly on the last three songs -- the funky and hilarious "Under Arrest" and "Military Rap," followed by a sultry piece of exotica called "Oasis," which could be the soundtrack for a movie called "Deborah Harry and the 1,001 Nights," The album isn't really worth having; this song is.

-- Chris Walters

Yes, it's Austin's own mutant rockers, finally hitting the vinyl vendors with an LP of their own (after last year's live-atltaul's disc, which they shared with the Dicks). The new record is on the Wasted Talent label, home of the fabulous Judy's, and all indications are that Industry Standard will help establish Wasted Talent as one of the nation's more bizarre (and entertaining) indies. Twelve Big Boys classics are included herewith, including "T.V.", "Self Contortion" and "Wise Up."

-- Jeff Whittington