I just found out that the glam name for "Kristin Sage Rockermann" is "Typhoon Sugarpants," courtesy of the Glam Name Generator. Feel free to refer to Pitchforkmedia as Londontinselcake.com, published and edited by one Pyrite Dandytwist, with a staff that includes Icy Hotcake, Ginchy Blowcove, Maribou Fairymullet, and Ferrari Tinselmullet. Isn't technology neat? It almost makes you forget there was ever a day when you had to use the analog equivalent of the Glam Name Generator. Remember how your first pet's name and your street name make up your Porn Star or Drag Queen Name? Mine is Pokey Avondale! God rest the poor snail's soul.

While this is all in good fun, it's not advisable to use such random pairings as "record generators." Unfortunately, the Knitting Factory-- or rather "Multiplex Lushcake"-- has taken up this random generator methodology as standard practice. Why not pair breakfast cereal jingles with no-wave wash-outs? Wouldn't it be neat if we had each artist on Warp Records perform a different track of Cat Stevens' soundtrack to Harold & Maude? Or better yet-- let's have various members of the Knitting Factory "family" and NYC's downtown jazz scene perform standards from Sholem Aleichem's Fiddler on the Roof! Super! Wouldn't it be wild if we sold it for money?

I can imagine the live performance of such an avant-absurd take on a modern classic. Self-described "indie rock" 16 year-olds who happen to like jazz, and also starred in their high school productions of Fiddler on the Roof, will drive in from the suburbs with the radio dial on their parents' Volvo tuned to NPArmpit. After downing a couple of illegal Long Island iced teas and plates of vegetable-fried rice at Susie's on Bleeker Street, they'll wander over to the Knitting Factory in uniform. Homemade cut-off muscle-t's, flip-flops and moppy hair abound! But don't let them fool you-- they're wearing their berets and black turtlenecks on the inside.

During performances by the New Orleans Klezmer Allstars and Hasidic New Wave, one of the suburban teens will mention to the other that this is the Knitting Factory's latest release in their JAM (Jewish Alternative Movement) series. Her friend will be too wrapped up in the energetic instrumental performances to respond. These tracks are great examples of recent movements of musicians working with free-form adaptations of the Klezmer form that manage to maintain both a current edge and traditional Jewish melodies. The teen will comment that she's thinking about becoming an Alternative Jew, but isn't sure.

During Jill Sobule's performance of "Sunrise, Sunset," one teen will inform us that Jill is the chick who sang "I Kissed a Girl" and "(I Wanna Be a) Super Model." The other will respond that those two cute, vapid songs too often overshadow the equally cute and vapid-- but impressively straightforward-- "Lucy at the Gym." Although Sobule doesn't perform her own material here, to choose to listen to her cloying vocals in any context is like force-feeding yourself packets of Sweet & Low. The teen mentions that she's considering becoming bisexual, but isn't sure.

Knitting on the Roof also offers a spoken word track assembled from a couple of tapes. Recordings of telephone conversations are hip, right? Especially when they tangentiality relate to a modern classic like Fiddler on the Roof and are produced by rock bands like Come. The poor recording makes it avant-garde, even though their only lyric appears to be, "Do you love me?" One of the suburban kids mentions that she's considering becoming a spoken work track. Of course!

The wacky Residents sound like a gaggle of kindergartners chanting "Matchmaker, Matchmaker" with some sort of bad-ass attitude that grasps your attention like a QVC all-night Bargathon. Negativland's collage project is more of an exercise in sound pastiche and aural juxtaposition than a song you would actually enjoy listening to. You know the deal. Oh, and to you Magnetic Fields obsessives out there: Effective immediately, there is a Knitting on the Roof clause which allows you to remain a Magnetic Fields completist without owning this recording of Stephin Merritt singing "If I Were a Rich Man," backed by what might be a ukulele.

The last three tracks-- respectively by David Ware, Elliot Sharp, and Paradox Trio-- are bearable, but that's assuming you've made it to the end of this annoying concept album and still have the energy for a string of difficult improvisational avant-garde jazz pieces. Better luck to the Knitting Factory with their production of Arto Lindsay and Ikue Mori reuniting to perform the Golden Grahams theme song or Merzbow's touching medley of "Moonshadow," "Lady D'Arbanville" and "Peace Train."

-Typhoon Sugarpants, c/o Kristin Sage Rockermann