The very prolific Green Day put out three albums in short order late last year - the last one was "Tre" and it's on mighty, mighty Warner Brothers. Once up a time in those silly '60s, a band called Moby Grape recorded a dynamite debut album that was so good - the powers that be at Columbia Records decided to release each of the 12 songs as singles, sort of diminishing the entire package. 

Oakland's finest, Billie Joe Armstrong, writes so many great songs so fast, that there is a danger that they may be overlooked. "Tre" is full of effortless Green Day classics - one of them - "Drama Queen" - has been the soundtrack to my dreams for weeks. 

The others will have you bouncing all over the room or risking a speeding ticket if you're on the road. One of America's great bands doing more great things.

 

In the Shameless Plug Department: Rhett Miller will do a solo gig at Muddy Waters in Santa Barbara on 16 June - it's way smaller than Largo used to be and smaller than Zoey's is now. 

It would be even better if he played at the Johnny Cash thing at the Ventura County Fairgrounds the day before (June 15). His band - the Old '97s - was named for a Man in Black song. 

Also, the Warped Tour returns to the Commotion by the Ocean on 23 June and the Scheideck Music Festival - sort of an 805 Coachella - that one will be happening the last weekend in June - great music, excessive drinking and a campground to pass out in - clearly a cultural landslide up on Hwy. 33 in Maricopa.

They've got that one beat, one song, one week thing going on but they also rock enough to prevent the dreaded head bobbing coma and in fact, induce people to dance funny. And, I hate to break it to you after years of denial, but your math teacher was right. 

Life is math which is echoed in this timeless advice from the band, "Fishing Where The Fish Are."

You don't find Jeremy Wade fishing in a swimming pool and you're probably not going to get lucky sitting on your couch. And finally and obviously, if you're going to call yourself the Hitman Blues Band, you better be good. They are.

Still Corners would probably match up well with Mazzy Star as a double bill. Then again, cool vocals seemingly in search of a cool song inevitably leads to a tilt of the head and a shrug. There's nothing here to get excited about.

"Cannery Row" is the latest from the Deadstring Brothers, just out on Bloodshot Records - and just like President Obama, out of Chicago. The band is out of Detroit, south Detroit evidently, as this is pretty much hardcore country music led by frontman Kurt Marschke. 

Now all these reviewers are talking about old school Stones or bluesy rock - nope - this is something you'd hear blasting out of a pick-up truck with a gun rack - smartly done by some stalwarts whose word view is slightly to the right of "Wahoo." 

It's been said that "country rock" no longer exists - it's all Americana now. Well, I like country rock bands like the Old '97s and the Bottle Rockets, but this stuff? Not so much - too twangy. It reminds me of the people I shoot at Civil War re-enactments. 

The first one, "Like A California Wild Fire," is extra unpleasant, especially to those of us in SoCal - the threat is already too real and once you say it, well, there you go. The female vocals of Kim Collins compliment Marschke nicely on "It's Morning Irene," the rest is redundant redneck rock.

Supremely crafted pop songs - the Monkees for the new millennium maybe but with more technology and stellar vocals by Ryan Tedder. 

They take a cliche phrase as taken maybe from a daily horoscope - example, "What You Wanted," emerges as a hook filled foot tapper which will ring true at some point for anyone. Or a less crass attitude would laud the band for their astute recognition of a universal truth, which is a good thing. In any case, not a wasted note or a line from this hit machine.

The opener is a wobbler, "Do Not Resuscitate," daring the obvious - would this stuff finish you off or keep you going? Their youthful vigor favors the non-rigor mortis option. The fuzzed out pop songs that are reminiscent of vintage Queers rock best but these guys are all about energy and fun. It's the suitable soundtrack for cleaning the entire house in about 41 seconds.

The latest from 20 year veteran songbird Paula Cole is named for her favorite bird - that would be "Raven" and it's on 675 Records. 

Cole sings about empowering and powerful women, who already run the world to anyone that is paying attention - all that needs to be done is to convince all those old, fat white guys as to the reality of the situation. 

Beautiful voice on preachy songs straight from the heart that don't show a lot of variety - all prime examples of Folk 101 for serious ladies all in black, taking good notes.

"Miracle Mile" is the latest from STRFKR, just out on Polyvinyl. Doing the math that would be four guys, six years and three albums out of Portland. 

Once upon a time a solo project from one Joshua Hodges, he has evidently hired three of his pals to make wimpy and weak electronica that is reminiscent of '80s synth pop bands back when MTV actually was into music, running endlessly videos by bands such as the Human League, Pet Shop Boys and Culture Club. High end vocals on mellow and meandering pop songs certain to inspire - let's see - no tattoos, no mosh pit and no term papers exploring the depth and meaning of the lyrics and fully as dangerous as whistling in the backyard. 

Then again, it's not supposed to be and they do have a song about "Kahlil Gibran" and "Leave It All Behind" always works for somebody.

The latest from the heavily hyped Yeah Yeah Yeahs is "Mosquito" and it's on Interscope Records. It's all about Karen O and her man farm backing band - easy on the eyes, sex kitten front gal getting all the boys all steamed up? That'll never work - oh, wait a minute - actually, that - pretty much - always works as Archie Bunker once rhetorically wondered, "What are they sellin' here?" This is a rock 'n' roll band out of NYC with 13 years experience - this is their fourth album, pretty much an updated version of bands such as Concrete Blonde and Divinyls - both of which, were better, yeah. Now, I saw this band at Coachella and again at the Ventura Theatre and I even bought a shirt, but I think too many critics are warm for the form of Karen O and are overly excited by this average rock band; plus who don't hate a "Mosquito" and the first single, "Sacrilege" is below average, but the chameleon-like Karen O always looks good - and much like Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, that may be the point.

The new one from the Veils is the totally truthful "Time Stays, We Go," just out on Rough Trade Records. I'd like to thank two of my three readers, the Wickerns, for turning me onto these guys - I missed their show on 26 April in Hell-A but I did manage to score this CD and there is something very cool going on here. 

First of all - they have impeccable cred as the gifted frontman, Finn Andrews, is the son of Barry Andrews of Shriekback fame (you need "Big Night Music.") This is Big Time BritPop smartly done - imagine Snow Patrol with a lesser bank account or maybe Shriekback mellower 30 years later. "Train With No Name" covers the obligatory train song, one of which every band must have in their repertoire and "Turn From The Rain" are just a couple of the good ones on an album with no bad cuts. 

In fact, this one gets better every time and the Wickerns were smarter than we are because they went to the show.

"Cotton Mouth Man" is the latest from James Cotton, just out on that big time blues  label, Alligator Records. Cotton is a bad ass, old black Mississippi blues dude harmonica player, clearly an endangered species. He's ably assisted by an as-good-as-it-gets band of old pros rockin' the blues - just the sort that converts more blues fans painlessly, but this  will work for rockers as well. 

The autobiographical "Cotton Mouth Man" sets the tone as the band kicks into the irresistible boogie beat, beloved by feet the world over. Cotton learned his craft from Sonny Boy Williamson and he drops plenty of names - and why shouldn't he? Cotton was there and better yet - he's still here.

Brad Vickers & His Vestapolitans did the DIY thing and have self-released their fourth album, "Great Day In The Morning." Vickers perhaps has cancelled his subscription to the newspaper and stopped watching the news as he is happier than he needs to be or maybe he knows something we don't know. 

In any case, it's self-described "great American roots 'n' roll - and talk about your truth in advertising - that's exactly what this is - blues, rock, soul, Americana - all smoother than the aftermath of a 50 foot slug. 

Vickers is backed by a knock-out band of pros that might just be the definitive bar band or even a top tier snitzy blues society presentation. Vickers learned his trade playing with the likes of Bo Diddley, Pinetop Perkins, Sleepy LaBeef, Chuck Berry and evidently, took good notes and offers this astute observation: "Great day in the morning - life comes to you without warning."

The newest from Kavinsky is "Outun" on Universal Republic. Actually, Vincent Belorgey is a French house artist - naw, he doesn't paint houses - he's an EDM guy along with his friends, all of whom are machines. 

The French are taking over - David Guetta is a huge DJ (popular, not fat), Phoenix was one of the Coachella headliners this year and last time I checked, McDonald's and In-N-Out Burger were still selling tons of French fries and now, here's Kavinsky. The French helped us win the Revolutionary War, a debt more than repaid with World War I and World War II - but what about Kavinisky? Good question. 

The album art looks like stills from an '80s MTV video shoot, Hot chick? Check. Hot car? Red Ferrari Testarossa - double check. The vocalists change from song to song - often it's SebastiAN, who on "Odd Look," sounds like someone is choking a duck and HAVOC is extra annoying as he invites a lightning bolt of hubris by telling us what he's going to do to his unfortunate lady friends. Kavinsky is so-so - imagine EDM at the vicodin convention.

The latest from Wavves makes a lot more sense than it did talking to Nathan Williams, that finhead stoner slacker frontman for the band whose fourth and latest album is "Afraid Of Heights," just out on Warner Brothers. 

When they're singing about 4-20 friendly - it's definitely not about Hitler's birthday, but mostly thrashy and trashy power pop, now and again ragged around the edges. 

Also, now and again, the hype is true as the harmonies are indeed reminiscent of the Beach Boys. The album starter, "I Sail To The Sun," does include that "whoo-oooo-ooo" harmonies that sound a lot like "Fun Fun Fun" or back when California truly was, or much like the perfect waves rolling in relentlessly just before you arrived. 

The lyrics are of the goofball variety such as on "Demon To Lean On," "Beat Me Up" and every girlfriend's potentially new favorite dedication song to that untrainable big lump, "Everything Is My Fault." And when Williams sings on "Dog" as in "I wanna be your..." he sounds most convincing.