Echo and the Bunnymen have essentially lived off the critical acclaim of one album, but as brilliant as Ocean Rain may have been, Ian McCulloch has yet to write anything that comes even close to rivaling his 1984 magnum opus “The Killing Moon”.

The Fountain begins much like it ends, with a whimper.

Opening track “I Think I Need It Too” has the same generic mass appeal of every U2 and Coldplay song ever written, but lacks the social relevancy needed to inspire anyone under the age of 50.

“Shroud of Turin” is almost as unimpressive as its real world counterpart, as a beleaguered McCulloch questions the many limitations of a supposed omnipresent being, “Never happens when you want it to/Never does what it’s supposed to do/It’s never good enough to see me through.”

Much like his Raconteurs bandmate Jack White, Brendan Benson can’t seem to sit still for any prolonged length of time, and has bounced around from side project to side project in a futile attempt to satiate his creative urges.

Benson’s fourth solo effort My Old Familiar Friend begins like all great albums do, with a breezy inoffensive pop blast of youthful exuberance (“A Whole Lot Better”) that’s equal parts Elvis Costello and Mary Tyler Moore.

“Lesson Learned” shows a great deal of promise as the pensive musician examines his past failures, but despite his best efforts the album ultimately collapses under the weight of its own mediocrity or as Benson says it best, “I guess it’s back to the drawing board/To recreate the conversation with no lack of communication/It can’t wait anymore for sanity to be restored.”

Typically B-sides are designated as such for good reason, as musicians awaken from their drug induced hazes to discover that the very same song they had enthusiastically endorsed the previous night as the next “Stairway to Heaven” was in fact just another meandering and pompously bloated mess of a song worthy of the next Phish album.

However, one has to wonder what exactly Modest Mouse was smoking at the time to think that leaving off any number of the hidden gems on B-sides compilation No One’s First and You’re Next was a good idea.

Its mesmerizing first single “Satellite Skin” pulses with “Glycerine” urgency as an easily annoyed Isaac Brock waxes eloquent about narcissism and society’s obsession with accomplishment, “You can say what you want your forgiven/Well happy f*cking congratulations/Well everyone, everyone wins.”

Part acid jazz and prohibition era swing, it doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out why the Avant- garde “King Rat” didn’t quite make the cut, especially when accompanied by a music video (directed by the late Heath Ledger) that approximately .001 percent of the world’s population can relate to.

In the past I’ve been fairly vocal of my affection for mentally disturbed women with access to a grand piano, so it would be safe to assume that this bizarre fetish would extend toward Regina Spektor and her irresistible womanly charms.

The Russian born chanteuse does fellow countryman Sergei Rachmaninoff proud on latest album Far by interspersing enough classical Romanticism into her inoffensive mainstream pop veneer to slowly but surely win over the proletariat.

First single “Laughing With” is a deliciously blasphemous romp through hijinx and hilarity, as a jaded Spektor praises God’s omnipresent sense of humor, “But God can be funny/At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or/Or when the crazies say he hates us/And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke.”

Although Spektor is not as biting as Tori Amos or as bordering suicidal as Fiona Apple, her acerbic wit and bubble gum melancholy evident in songs such as “Eet” and “Dance Anthem of the 80’s” make her interesting enough to avoid being labeled as just another faux-rebellion wannabe.

And if for some reason she’s actually reading this, call me. By the way I’m doing that annoying pantomimed phone to the side of my mouth thing in case you were wondering.

Dinosaur Jr. exists in a bubble where time and space intersect, and much like TGI McScratchy’s Goodtime Food Drinkery is perpetually stuck in the early 90’s.

Yet despite their dated grunge threads and AARP sensibilities, these Massachusetts born alternative rockers sound better than ever on their simply titled ninth studio album Farm.

J Macias avoids the many responsibilities that come with age on first single “I Want You To Know” the only way he knows how, with Face/Off inspired reconstructive surgery, “I love the place/I took your face/forgot to face it/By myself I cried.”

“Over It” is tried and true alternative rock, but underneath its straight laced exterior beats the heart of an apathetic dissenter on the brink of a mid-life crisis.

The late 90’s had its fair share of Nirvana clones, but of all the hapless imposters none seemed more primed to take the vacated throne than Incubus.

However, that sentiment wouldn’t last for very long as the ever dreamy Brandon Boyd and company evolved into yet another sterile Top 40 act.

New compilation album Monuments & Melodies chronicles this harrowing fall from grace.

The chart topping “Drive”, incendiary “Pardon Me”, and clever word play of “Anna Molly” are all there for your listening enjoyment, but how they overlooked what is easily their best song in “Make Yourself” is beyond me.

Sonic Youth are a difficult band to get into, I myself often turned my head in disgust each time someone praised their two chord guitar assault with the same conviction of a stoned Deadhead (is there any other kind).

“They’re genius man. I mean the way Thurston Moore plays the guitar…and Kim Gordon, man she’s hot. I totally would do her.”

Who am I to argue with such a cogent and well thought out argument such as that one?

But like all other people I eventually caved into peer pressure (say no to drugs kids) and took the immortal Daydream Nation out for a spin.

It took only opening track “Teen Age Riot” to convince me that everything that flannel wearing burnout was saying is gospel; my mind had officially been blown.

Now a decade removed from that music induced high, I find myself equally disillusioned and ready for another nihilistic cacophony of grinding distortion.

Enter Sonic Youth’s 16^th studio album The Eternal, which isn’t nearly as good as their 1988 classic, but is still better than 90 percent of the sh*t churned out by major record labels.

Speaking of which, Moore and company ditched their previous label Geffen Records and signed with the less business savvy Matador, home to such indie greats as Cat Power, Lou Reed, and Pavement.

Their new unrestrained environment pays dividends on first single “Sacred Trickster”, whose savage guitars and pulverizing drum channel Iggy and the Stooges era garage rock all while Gordon coos, “I wish I could be music on a tree/Noise nomads and me/Levitating, spinning around.”

The subdued “Antenna” features a perpetually dejected Moore, who with the help of otherworldly ambient noise, attempts to make contact with another less malevolent species.

An often ignored Lee Ranaldo lends his vocals and guitar expertise on the sinewy “What We Know”, a low fidelity meditation on the impassioned brevity of life and love, “It’s been quite a ride/With you my sweet, here by my side.”

My only criticism is that ultimately every one of their songs sounds the f*cking same, but oh what a song it is.

You can have your foot fetishes and weekend gang bangs, because for my money nothing is hotter than an angry woman playing piano.

The angriest woman of them all (and by some accounts fairest) returns for her tenth album Abnormally Attracted to Sin, which as its title suggests is primarily about Tori Amos’ ongoing struggles with organized religion and the men who love them.

Part protest song and electric dirge, “Police Me” and its droning bassline does Confucius proud as Amos futilely deliberates another esoteric philosophical query, “Perhaps the answer to the question/Lies in the question.”

Amos cracks a wry smile and makes the most of her mortality on the carefree “Not Dying Today”, whose bustling chorus shows actual glimmers of hope, “Music, good friends, I’m not dying today/I may be six feet under full of wonder/I’m not dying today.”

Continuing with this weeks’ theme of “Been there, done that” is Jane’s Addiction and their well-timed Cabinet of Curiosities boxed set.

The three CD and one DVD collection, which coincidently comes out on the cusp of their massive North American tour with Nine Inch Nails, contains your usual menagerie of pointless demos, live bootlegged cuts, and video footage from their early 90’s heyday.

Listen to ten alternate cuts of “Jane Says”, “Been Caught Stealing”, and “Mountain Song”, while Peretz “Perry Farrell” Bernstein and company gather in an underground cellar to count their piles of money at your expense.

However, if you insist on staring at Farrell’s revolving door of awful hair styles or a regularly shirtless Dave Navarro, I’ll save you some time and provide you with the cheaper alternative.

That’s right, an unsolicited slow motion montage of people getting kicked in the groin courtesy of YouTube and some nameless idiot savant with far too much time on their hands.