Scan Pitchfork's archive of compilation reviews (conveniently labeled "comp," about two inches up), and you'll find over a hundred reviews. Many of these attempt to demystify the art of compilation, but don't worry; I'll save you any further haranguing in this write-up of Shanti Project Collection 2.

This actually has very little to do with kindness on my part, for the second AIDS benefit CD for the San Francisco-based Shanti Project, plays more like a mix tape than your standard compilation. Case in point: the slightly irritating habit that some have of taping all of the songs by a particular artist back-to-back is indeed present. Furthermore, it's rife with artists whose tunes represent archetypes of the science of mix-making. Come, let's explore:

Artist 1: Mimi Parker
Represents: The no-brainer
Mimi Parker is-- stay with me on this one-- the embodiment of a reformed choir of angels who just made it back to heaven after being killed in a celestial bus accident. Her two tunes show off her voice in the glory of solitude. "The Plan (Elysian Version)" revisions The Curtain Hits the Cast's in a cathedral, with her echo-laden vocals singing the lyrics a bit faster. The imperfect guitar playing suggests that the perpetually drumming Parker is branching out and letting us listen as she learns. How generous.

Artist 2: Kristin Hersh
Represents: The novelty
There's perhaps nothing more novel than hearing the reworking of previously electric material into solo-acoustic fare. Hersh dusts off two Throwing Muses ditties ("Hate My Way" and "Garoux des Larmes"), wields her guitar like a scythe, and goes at them alone. Her phlegm-filled wail sounds even more stark and scary than usual while she shudders over arpeggios and lines like, "Why do I wanna die?" But when she flips it rockabilly style on "Larmes," you wonder when she started grasping for the Nimrod ring.

Artist 3: Paula Frazer
Represents: The shot-in-the-dark/The duet
Frazer, of Tarnation, offers the type of songs put on mix tapes that require the "I don't know if you're going to like this" disclaimer. Her Ida-esque music for not-so-cool coffeehouses is infuriatingly benign. When Mark Eitzel arrives to plunder through "Rhymes of Goodbye," a duet that Peabo Bryson would pass up, things turn unbearable. The song's almost-cliched quality is easily summed up in the line: "The rhymes of our passions/ Find beauty in loving love."

Artist 4: Rebecca Gates
Represents: The new shit to show off/Obligatory John McEntire appearance
With Gates' solo EP set to come out on Badman this summer, the label has taken the opportunity to floss their new acquisition. Unfortunately, both "Move" and "The Colonel's Circle" don't live up to the Spinanes' heights on Manos and Strand. John McEntire's looped tape hiss and bass underscoring "Move" never boost the song to anything greater than pretty. The painfully slow "Circle" is worse, with its sluggish cello and laconic vocals. At 5½ minutes, the song overstays its welcome by seeming twice as long.

Artist 5: Edith Frost
Represents: The oddball
Edith Frost is proud of the drugs she does (there are references in both cuts here). The psilocybic, blood sweet "Ancestors" finds Frost musing over a slightly out-of-tune guitar about dying and meeting her kin. On "Cold and On My Mind," Frost sounds like Mirah's strung out, sleazy aunt who lives in a trailer park in Tennessee. And it's kinda hot.

Artist 6: Julie Doiron
Represents: The pleasant surprise
If Doiron's post-Eric's Trip work has been a bit unremarkable, perhaps it's just been a question of context. The three tunes here are nicely placed soothers that come off as much more memorable than most of Doiron's material. The hearty electric guitar work keeps both "The One You Love" (sadly, not a Glenn Frey cover) and "And There is Still Enough" from being overtaken by the gentleness of the songwriting.

Artist 7: MAdM (Melissa Auf der Maur)
Represents: The filler/The cover (that sucks)
With virtually no one anxious to hear solo work from Hole's once-resident sex kitten (sorry Courtney), MAdM's bottom-of-the-barrel tunes don't even have novelty on their side. The shoddily recorded "Desire is Critical" is unfathomably pretentious, complete with an out-of-tune piano that jarringly contrasts with the (differently) out-of-tune, lax guitar. Midway during the song, Auf der Maur gives her flat voice a break and speak-sings the lyrics, only to halt the music 20 seconds before the song's conclusion. She then rattles off the rest of the lyrics with the enthusiasm of a second grader who's been asked to recite the alphabet one too many times. Her take on Roxy Music's "Love is the Drug" is probably the compilation's low point. She warbles through it (along with a backwards tape loop and "Flower"-esque, Phairian guitar), and though she does sound sexy when she purrs, "Love is the drug I need to score," der Maur is no Grace Jones.

The fact that Shanti Project Collection 2 operates on a mix-tape level is to its credit: it's infinitely more endearing than the average comp. And despite its flaws, it's the type of mix that you actually keep around and listen to, instead of lying to your friend and quickly changing the subject when asked, "So, what'd you think of it?"

-Richard M. Juzwiak