A breath of fresh air in the gangsta-dominated mid-'90s, the Fugees' breakthrough album, The Score, marked the beginning of a resurgence in alternative hip-hop. Its left-field, multi-platinum success proved there was a substantial untapped audience with an appreciation for rap music but little interest in thug life. The Score's eclecticism, social consciousness, and pop smarts drew millions of latent hip-hop listeners back into the fold, showing just how much the music had grown up. It not only catapulted the Fugees into stardom, but also launched the productive solo careers of Wyclef Jean and Lauryn Hill, the latter of whom already ranks as one of the top female MCs of all time based on her work here. Not just a collection of individual talents, the Fugees' three MCs all share a crackling chemistry and a wide-ranging taste in music. Their strong fondness for smooth soul and reggae is underscored by the two hit covers given slight hip-hop makeovers (Roberta Flack's "Killing Me Softly With His Song" and Bob Marley's "No Woman, No Cry"). Even when they're not relying on easily recognizable tunes, their original material is powered by a raft of indelible hooks, especially the great "Fu-Gee-La"; there are also touches of blues and gospel, and the recognizable samples range from doo wop to Enya. Their protest tracks are often biting, yet tempered with pathos and humanity, whether they're attacking racial profiling among police ("The Beast"), the insecurity behind violent posturing ("Cowboys"), or the inability of many black people in the Western Hemisphere to trace their familial roots ("Family Business"). Yeah, the Chinese restaurant skit is a little dicey, but on the whole, The Score balances intelligence and accessibility with an easy assurance, and ranks as one of the most distinctive hip-hop albums of its era.© Steve Huey /TiVo

Whether you describe this type of alternative rock as screamo, post-hardcore, or melodic hardcore, albums like They're Only Chasing Safety are all about contrasts -- heaven contrasting with hell, melody contrasting with sledgehammer brutality, "normal" singing (whatever "normal" is) contrasting with tortured, agonized, death-all-over-your-face screaming. This screamo/post-hardcore/melodic hardcore approach is quite different from full-fledged metalcore; while metalcore units like Hatebreed, Brick Bath, and Finland's notoriously ferocious Rotten Sound go right for the jugular, Underoath and similar bands prefer to mix honey with vinegar. Overall, the Tampa, FL, residents do a decent job of integrating the honey and the vinegar on They're Only Chasing Safety, which is their first album since Spencer Chamberlain replaced Dallas Taylor as lead singer. After Taylor's departure in 2003, some fans had strong reservations about Underoath carrying on without him. But Chamberlain has no problem taking over the lead vocalist spot on this 2004 release, and he seems to have a firm grasp of the sort of good cop/bad cop and heaven/hell contrasts that characterize a screamo disc like They're Only Chasing Safety. Of course, the screamo aesthetic is hardly unique to Underoath; anyone who has spent time listening to Nora, From Autumn to Ashes, Hopesfall, or School for Heroes will see the parallels between Underoath and those bands. But lyrically, one thing that separates Underoath from other screamo outfits is their Christian orientation. Not that the Floridians beat listeners over the head with Christianity -- if anything, their Christian references are subliminal on this CD, which explains why secular audiences have been receptive to them. They're Only Chasing Safety is mildly uneven -- some of the tunes hold up better than others -- but more often that not, it's a respectable outing from this post-Taylor edition of Underoath.© Alex Henderson /TiVo

Biohazard's Urban Discipline introduced the band's one-of-a-kind, Brooklyn thrash-rap sound to hardcore fans outside the five boroughs. It's an authentic mix of inner-city vocal rhythms with metal's take-no-prisoners attitude, one that granted them international credibility. Urban Discipline is an original hardcore metal-rap album, debuting a half-decade prior to the rap-rock explosion of the late '90s. It is defiant and distinctive -- in some senses a precursor of bands such as Korn, Limp Bizkit, and the Deftones, and in other ways in a class all its own. It's not the self-indulgent, "I-gotta-get-mine" rap-rock of the late '90s, as it's loaded with social criticism. It's a blue-collar metal record made by rough-shod, tattooed, fighting men. The album's highlight is "Punishment," a hard-charging anthem with a surprisingly melodic chorus. This hook was strong enough to earn them moderate playtime on MTV, even though nothing else sounded like them at the time.Though intended merely as simple music for slam dancing, Biohazard does well to mix things up within those parameters. The group successfully rearranged their typical song structure with divergent bass, drum, and guitar parts in "Shades of Grey." They're technically competent enough to implement light crescendos and decrescendos, tempo variation, and a diffuse focus of the instruments within the band. It's not Mozart, but it is one of the most authentic combinations of thrash and rap ever made.© Kieran McCarthy /TiVo

In reality, by the time Gussie Presenting I-Roy arrived, the DJ needed no introduction -- he was already one of the hottest toasters on the scene. This, his debut album, was virtually a hits collection, and any tracks that weren't hits would be soon enough. Initially seen as little more than copying his bigger brethren, I-Roy had swiftly developed into a mature and distinctive talent. His conversational style was far removed from his contemporaries, as his powerful toast on "Black Man's Time" perfectly illustrated. That song is the album's centerpiece, and was produced by Gussie Clarke. Built around the "Slaving" rhythm, it opened with a long spoken intro, unique at the time. "Red, Gold and Green" was equally cultural in nature, with "Peace" an exuberant demand for unity, while "Screw Face" takes a thoughtful look at solutions for Jamaica's endemic violence. However, I-Roy was just as effective chatting about less weighty matters, as on "Tripe Girl," while "Melinda" is just as charming, both excellently employing classic rocksteady rhythms, as does the wonderfully moody "Coxsonne Affair." On "Tourism Is My Business," meanwhile, the DJ exalts his island home, surely with tongue firmly in cheek. There are a dozen seminal cuts in all, and what better way to meet one of Jamaica's greatest DJs.© Jo-Ann Greene /TiVo

Steve Goodman was a lifelong Chicago Cubs fan, and just 11 days after his death in September 1984, the Cubs made it into the National League playoffs, something that never happened in his lifetime. With similar luck, Goodman won the Grammy Award for Best Folk Album following the release of 1987's Unfinished Business, a set of live takes, unreleased studio recordings, and radio sessions that his manager Al Bunetta compiled and released posthumously. Unfinished Business was in many ways similar to 1983's Artistic Hair and 1984's Affordable Art, two late-period Goodman albums that mixed material from various sources and time periods. All three albums show off the wide range of Goodman's talents as a songwriter and performer, and on Unfinished Business, he gracefully embraces the complex emotions of "In Real Life," the eager silliness of "Don't Get Sand in It," and a bit of both at the same time on "God Bless Our Mobile Home." Goodman could attack the rockabilly grooves of "Millie Make Some Chili" and wrap himself up in the evocative acoustic tones of "Colorado Christmas" and sound like a masterful performer in either context. And Goodman wasn't by his nature a flashy guitarist, but on his interpretations of "The Dutchman" and "My Funny Valentine," he accompanies himself with confidence and style. Unfinished Business is full of fine moments and this material most certainly merited release, but it also feels a bit less satisfying than Artistic Hair or Affordable Art; "Don't Get Sand in It" was one of the sillier moments in Goodman's repertoire, and while the performance of "The Dutchman" featured here is splendid, it's also a song that had appeared on more than one Goodman album before this. But the aptly titled Unfinished Business is a testament to the unpretentious genius of Steve Goodman, and if there are better introductions to his work, nearly every track is one nearly any musician would be proud to have in their catalog, and it will bring joy to anyone who ever loved his music.© Mark Deming /TiVo

Monkey Business: 1972-1997 is yet another late-'90s Blueprint release overflowing with less than interesting recordings by John Wetton. This time around, longtime collaborator Richard Palmer-James joins Wetton, an interesting marketing ploy to entice the voracious appetites of King Crimson's fan base. Unfortunately, the set doesn't satisfy such appetites, nor was it really intended to. Wetton and Palmer-James first met in school in 1962, but their collaborative efforts officially materialized ten years later when they joined what was to be the most stunning and funkified incarnation of King Crimson (1972-1974). With Wetton's aggressive, throbbing bass and Lake-like voice and Palmer-James' trenchant lyrics (often cold and dark but certainly free from the shackles of Sinfield's medieval sentiment), KC carved a new niche in progressive, improvisational rock. Monkey Business sheds a broken light on the 25-year musical partnership between Wetton and Palmer-James. A collection of previously unreleased recordings, including live performances and spare King Crimson demos (recorded as a basis for Palmer-James' lyric writing), Monkey Business is insubstantial at best. While nearly 50 percent of the material here is drawn from KC compositions and demos, very little of this is memorable. The 1972-1974 instrumental demos ("Easy Money," "Book of Saturday," "Starless 2," "Magazines"), each featuring Wetton on guitar or piano, are brief and minimal. They were recorded for Palmer-James' benefit and certainly were not intended for public consumption. The low-key "Magazines," originally written for KC's aborted follow-up to Red, surfaced in a fleshed-out form on Wetton's 1998 release, Arkangel. Monkey Business does contain one gem, which may make it essential for Bruford and UK fans. The infectious "Confessions" (1976) is a snappy, tightly coiled little Bruford/Wetton duet that foretells the coming of UK. Recorded at the same session, the lengthier, less interesting "Good Ship Enterprise" harks back to "Starless" in its foreboding, solemn presentation. The rest of the set is a hodgepodge of acoustic live performances ("The Night Watch," "Book of Saturday"), contemporary studio renditions ("Doctor Diamond," "Starless"), more Wetton/Palmer-James originals ("Rich Men Lie," "Cologne," "The Laughing Lake"), and questionable filler, including a poorly recorded cover of Chuck Berry's "Too Much Monkey Business." Also featured is "The Glory of Winning," a sappy Wetton/Downes piece, which validates the accusations that Wetton has, at times, cruised the unchallenging low road of "adult contemporary" music. The set closes with 1997 renditions of KC's "Doctor Diamond" and "Starless." Palmer-James provides the programmed sounds on each tune, which from the outset presents a problem for anyone already familiar with the original songs as performed by KC. At the same time, within the context of this set, these are arguably the strongest recordings. They are fully developed (unlike most of the songs here) and offer entirely new perspectives on the material, with "Starless 1997" taking on a somber, new age sound. Not as wimpy or as maudlin as other songs in Wetton's discography, the Monkey Business set may actually be a unique cut above his myriad Blueprint live releases, which sound all too similar. For Palmer-James, the album is a credit to his skills and evolution as a lyricist, especially when one considers that he began his career penning tunes for Donna Summer (around the same time he committed to Crimson!). But Monkey Business is generally bad business, for it will appeal to neither KC fans nor fans of Wetton's post-1980 material, mainly because it contains small, watered-down portions of each sound.© David Ross Smith /TiVo