In Grade 7 I sewed through my best friend’s finger. She was controlling the fabric while I worked the foot pedal. Since then I’ve bought my own clothes and pay someone to tailor my pants. Thankfully, this label has much more success with Fabric. After a few years of dance domination with its London nightclub, the Fabric empire also branched out with a record label of the same name. On No. 20, Bedrock creator Digweed flutters between tech-house, dub and electro without the progressive club feel. Martin Solveig’s Rockin’ Music dub creeps up out of nowhere, initiating an impromptu dance session before jumping right into Slam’s deep grooving Lie to Me. Other cool tracks include The Glass’ Don’t Bother Me and Superpitcher’s Happiness. It’s a polished disc worthy of the CD player — a piece of equipment I actually know how to use.

Shannon Ander

Side 1 opens with an earth-shattering, lock-’em-down version of the Motown classic First I Look at the Purse, and there is no letting up for two full sides of action recorded straight from the floor of Detroit’s Cinderella Ballroom. Peter Wolf has the kind of hoarse and sassy pipes that make the girls in the front row throw their undergarments onstage. Magic Dick blows his harmonica face off every chance he gets, but Whammer Jammer is his tree to chop down — and he does it mightily. J. Geils has the most Satan-ous guitar tone allowed on this plain, and on the haughty version of Hooker’s Serves You Right to Suffer he really gets to the rigid meat of the matter. Oh wait... wrong album. Former J. Geils axemaster Jay Geils’ new jazz album is really tasty. Pick up Full House Live by his other band and moogilla joogilla all night instead.

Jeff Monk

From the Sopranos-style artwork and the boiling contents of its new CD, it’s obvious American big band old-schoolers Roomful of Blues is back with a vengeance. Back? OK, the band’s never been gone. Its last Alligator release, That’s Right, leaned toward a more generic feel — call it Powder Blues Syndrome. The eight-man-strong ROB has definitely upped the juice and found the groove once again. It’s not a drastic alteration, so blues nuts will still be able to rely on the sturdy Roomful horn section to blow their collective hearts out while tone-master Chris Vachon reels off the necessary six-string soulfulness. Longtime member Rich Lataille can be singled out for his strict attention to the saxophone soul testament on Straight Jacquet, the swing-jazz tribute to Illinois Jacquet. A near-stellar return to form.

Jeff Monk

Let’s deal with the dreck right off the top; first, 15-minute album-closing song Lochness sucks. It’s lumbering, overlong and terrible. Ballads Angel and Eulogy both blow. The rest of this 10-track return to glory kicks some serious metal ass. Angel of Retribution sees Rob Halford, Glenn Tipton, K.K. Downing and Ian Hill back together again, and it’s about goddamn time given tracks such as album opener Judas Rising and Deal With the Devil. Dungeonmaster Rob hasn’t lost any of his piercing, wavering, snarling wail, and the patented dual-guitar attack of Downing and Tipton shows why Priest — together with Maiden — is known as the most important band in the New Wave of British Heavy Metal. The riffs here are big, ballsy and bombastic, dripping with the raw power that clothed a generation of kids in studded leather. Judas Priest is known for Breaking the Law — in 2005 it’s breaking the mould, at least most of the time.

Mike Warkentin

Dude, I have a wicked hangover. I listened to way too much Kreator last night, and now my head is throbbing with high-speed thrash metal rhythms. I haven’t felt like this since ’86. Some friends and I just threw the new Kreator album, Enemy of God, into the tape deck, and all of a sudden we were wearing army surplus bullet belts, carving pentagrams on the walls and making fun of those pussies in Def Leppard. Damn, do these German über-bangers churn out fiery thrash metal — but Enemy of God doesn’t feel stale, old or redundant in any way. If the hair of the dog is the way to go, I’m starting with a shot of Suicide Terrorist, followed by a chaser of Impossible Brutality. Ah, who am I kidding — I’m going to listen to the whole disc. Againandagainandagain…

Mike Warkentin