It's almost a shame that this Year 2000 dilemma isn't affecting music at all. I wish guitars had microchips in them. I wish CDs had CPUs. I wish punk rockers were robots with Intel Insides. That way, all the chords could be lost, guitars and punk rockers would have to be reprogrammed, and we could start this punk thing over again. Get some fresh ideas for the new millenium.

As Jerry Bruckheimer might say, "Avail puts asses in seats." Incessant touring and an energetic stage assault has rightfully garnered legions of Avail fans. As a testament to their live sets, Avail also sells more patches than Nicoderm. Walk down a high- school hallway and you're sure to see a tattered Avail patch pinned to a Jansport. Unfortunately, it sounds as if Jerry Bruckheimer might have produced Avail's fourth LP, Over The James. All the Bruckheimer trademarks are here: glossy production hosed down with machismo, booming sounds, firey color scheme, cliched sentiment, and stell- jawed heros. It's all done to perfection, but haven't we seen it all before?

Although chock full of fist- raising, blue- collar anthems, Over The James zooms by practically unnoticed. Thankfully, Avail lean more towards pub sing- alongs than snowboarding odes. But the spit in hardcore albums shouldn't go towards shining the tracks to a polish. Hardcore should be abrasive. Hardcore should hurt. And, frankly, Avail seem more content with their fans using their boots to tap toes rather than kicking fascists.

-Brent DiCrescenzo