Kid606 is so prolific it's hard to get excited, or even bat an eyelash, when he puts out a new CD. Still, I've been waiting for this one for a while – since Halloween of last year, when he played an amazing live set of harsh, 300-bpm gabber-techno-noise at a party in Oakland. I stood in shock and awe as the rest of room somehow danced to it, and then slobbered to him afterward, "When are you gonna put out something like that?"

His response, from behind the laptop, with a can of Sparks in his hand, was that his next CD on Ipecac would sound like that. The plan must have changed, since only two tracks, "Ecstasy Motherfucker" and "Powerbookfiend," on Kill Sound before Sound Kills You are in that particular style. Still, the rest is good enough that I'm not going to complain. The opening song, "The Illness," is the "hit" here, with a bona fide keyboard hook anchoring the spastic beats and Roadrunner samples. The rest of it is seldom as catchy or focused but just as hyperactive and intricate, slicing and dicing through a bunch of different electronica subgenres and exploding in about eight directions at any given moment. The fact that it samples the compilation Great Phone Calls (Amarillo) is merely a bonus. (Will York)

On the Speakers
On the Speakers (self-released)

Creeper Lagoon's 1997 Dogday EP got a little worn out from overplay in my household, which went through a phase of caring that the band might actually go somewhere. A year later I Become Small and Go provided some perspective. Produced by the Dust Brothers, "Dear Deadly" got put on a bunch of mix tapes, and I mostly fast-forwarded through the rest. Still, standouts like that song were mainly written by lead singer Ian Sefchick.

Nothing on On the Speakers, the self-titled EP from Sefchick's new project, matches the epic ranting of "Dear Deadly," written during Creeper's early days. Here, with guitarist Scott Ford, bassist Dan Horne, and drummer Anthony Improgo, Sefchick has mostly settled down to sleazy-sexy croonings that evoke visions of L.A. girls throwing their panties at the stage, if there are any left in the world capable of being swayed by a line like "Share yourself with me / We could be one." "Could I Be Right?" could be the love child of David Lee Roth and Hot Hot Heat. "Share Your Self" verges on wildly romantic but has just the faintest overtones of Nash Kato.