Quick Spins

FOR ME, IT'S YOU

Train

Call it professional emo -- or "pro-mo" -- because other than the advanced average age of Train's musicians, and their willingness to play at mid-tempo, there's little that separates the neo-classic rock group from the poppy "emotional punk" bands that are all the rage among the Warped Tour kids.

Like those video-ready mascara boys, Train singer and lyricist Patrick Monahan wants to remind you that really good-looking guys, even those additionally blessed with a strong voice and a successful rock band, can still hurt, feel loneliness and experience doubt. On Train's fourth studio album, "For Me, It's You," Monahan sings of being "the only cab on the road" ("Cab"), pines for a dead friend ("Always Remember") and asks, "How many times must I feel so blue?" ("All I Hear"). But amid all the self-doubt, sadness and longing, Monahan and his bandmates don't forget to write massively catchy radio-ready tunes -- even if few stations still play this sort of adult-contemporary rock.

Like the smash "Drops of Jupiter," the CD-opening "All I Ever Wanted" uses a bouncy piano riff that's sweetened with strings for maximum anthemness. "Am I Reaching You Now" begins with a Crosby, Stills & Nash-like acoustic-guitar riff and cozies up to electric power chords in the chorus. The Gin Blossoms and Counting Crows -- pro-mo progenitors par excellence -- are evoked on the hard-driving "Get Out" and a straightforward cover of Sugar's alt-rock radio staple "If I Can't Change Your Mind."

But Train's polished sound, musical professionalism and roots-rock look will be lost on the suburban punks who embrace My Chemical Romance and Good Charlotte -- even though all these groups are almost the same. Perhaps Monahan should don some eyeliner.

-- Christopher Porter

ON TOP OF OUR GAME

Dem Franchize Boyz

The growth and mutation of Southern club hip-hop is often incremental: In many ways, crunk was merely louder and more expertly crass than its predecessors. The region's latest breakout subgenre, "snap music," could be summed up as "more lighthearted and more sonically skeletal than crunk."

So there ya have it. As snap continues its evolution, it has a mass-market flagship act, Dem Franchize Boyz, an Atlanta group skillfully packaged by that city's rap impresario, Jermaine Dupri. The new DFB disc, "On Top of Our Game," picks up where the group's 2004 hit single "White Tee" left off, with repetitive catchphrases, ultra-simplistic synthesizer hooks, and percussion that skitters and stutters. Electronic finger snaps often take the place of staid ol' snare drums. Thus, snap music.

The barely there grooves "I Think They Like Me (So So Def Remix)" and "Lean Wit It, Rock Wit It" are the disc's hits so far. DFB uses them to deliver the requisite look-at-me attitude and scattershot lyrical themes (clubs, cars, girls, weed, clothes, threats). When the four-member group sticks to a one-idea-per-song template, the focus pays dividends: "Ridin' Rims," "Bricks 4 the High" and "Suckas Come and Try Me" aren't exactly deep, but they're easier to remember when the beat stops.

"Stop Callin' Me," however, claws its way to the forefront with a thicker, more crunk-like sound and abundant adolescent sexism. Oh, the anger that comes with knowing that girls like to chat with guys who have money. Such complex times we live in.

-- Joe Warminsky

SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE: THE BIRTH OF GRUNGE

Various Artists

If Kurt Cobain rolled over in his grave when Nirvana's overhyped box set was released in 2004, he's flat-out laughing now. This retrospective of grunge, the rain- and Rainier Beer-infused guitar assault that began oozing from Seattle two decades ago, includes not a single song from Nirvana. Or Soundgarden. Or Pearl Jam. Or Alice in Chains. Instead, it focuses on "pioneers" -- you know, bands that could be rounded up on the cheap.

The primary value of these 20 remastered tracks and the accompanying 16-page booklet is to young musicologists. The CD offers a quick taste of noisemakers who first rubbed sticks together (U-Men, Blackouts). Then it plows forward to full-on grunge groups that were often overlooked. Standout listening includes early Sub Pop Records "house engineer" Jack Endino's band, Skin Yard; the slicker act that branched from that, Gruntruck, which should appeal to Soundgarden fans; Tad, led by elephantine singer-guitarist Tad Doyle, whose stage dives felled crowd members like saplings; and Treepeople, the not-so-grunge group fronted by Doug Martsch, who went on to Built to Spill fame.

Early tunes are included from still-kicking bands such as the Melvins and Mudhoney. Proving that grunge wasn't just from the Northwest, Babes in Toyland crashes the party. And self-released music from the Screaming Trees, who went on to get radio attention, sounds less commercial than you'll remember.

Actually, if you're a Gen-Xer or older, it might be wise to cut the umbilical cord to this part of your past. At best, "The Birth of Grunge" might inspire you to break out the "Singles" movie soundtrack. At worst, it will send you to the closet to dig out shorts and long-sleeved flannel. Just do it while the wife isn't looking.

-- Michael Deeds