Sometimes metal rears its shaggy head at just the right moment. For a country that has chosen ignorance and isolation, a little sonic nihilism from our northern neighbors seems like the perfect soundtrack to four more years of desperation promising to match the Reagan era. On their second album, Canadian duo Death from above 1979 deliver just what a pissed-off electorate needs: thickly aggressive rock noise with plenty of righteous swagger and a surprising amount of substance.

DFA 1979 make stripped-down, tight songs that never sound thin despite the fact that the album is almost entirely bass guitar and drums. Drummer Sebastien Grainger's vocals swerve from a cool croon to an unrestrained howl while skillfully avoiding metal clichés, and he alternates between lines full of cock rock machismo like "Sexy woman meet me after work / I wanna show you how I handle business" and lyrics that are open and raw: "Now that it's over, I love you more and more." All the while, bassist Jesse F. Keeler chops lines that are primally elegant, brutal, and nimble. But DFA's most intriguing moment comes on the final track, when they veer off the sweaty stage and onto the dance floor. With a devastatingly catchy synth line and disco drums, "Sexy Results" packs more glamorous punch than 99 percent of dance punk, pointing to why New York hipster label DFA was threatened enough to force Grainger and Keeler to tack 1979 onto the end of a name the duo had been using since 1991. Be afraid but go on and feel the noise. Death from above 1979 play with the Panthers and Vietnam Sat/13, Independent, S.F. (415) 771-1421. (Peter Nicholson)

Various artists
Touch My Heart: A Tribute to Johnny Paycheck (Sugar Hill)

Millions knew who he was, but there was a lot more to Johnny Paycheck than a single borderline-novelty blue-collar anthem, "Take This Job and Shove It." A troubled and troubling character (just ask the man in that Ohio bar, shot by Mr. P in 1985 during an argument about turtle soup), Paycheck was also a major figure of the post-Hank honky-tonk era, and his massive legacy is only beginning to be understood. The Country Music Foundation did an excellent job opening doors with The Real Mr. Heartache, and Warner Bros. followed suit with Soul and Edge: The Best of Johnny Paycheck, which handpicked his best 1970s material. Now Paycheck gets the obligatory tribute treatment.

Produced by Robbie Fulks, Touch My Heart includes a well-rounded roster, and each artist obviously knows, loves, and truly feels the material. Neko Case adds just the right amount of twang and sass to the self-deprecating booze haze of "If I'm Gonna Sink (I Might as Well Go to the Bottom)." Dave Alvin cranks things up on the bluesy "11 Months and 29 Days," while Hank Williams III gives a slow, twanged-out reading of "I'm the Only Hell My Mama Ever Raised," a version that'd make his grandpappy proud. The inclusion of Mavis Staples on the powerful "Touch My Heart" indicates how far Paycheck's music has seeped beyond the jukebox at the corner tavern.

A few legends show up too: George Jones sings "She's All I Got," Johnny Bush lends his warbling baritone to "Apartment #9," and Buck Owens and Bobby Bare pull together with Radney Foster and Jeff Tweedy for a nutty "Shove It."

A true standout, though, is way-too-overlooked honky-tonker Dallas Wayne's raw, rich take on the equally overlooked Bobby Braddock composition "I Did the Right Thing." The song's hero has decided to give up the mistress he loves and return to his wife to "save my home," and the compromise is vivid, painful, and rife with doubt.

Alt-country fans who've yet to dig deep into Paycheck's mighty catalog now have no excuse – this collection is an easy entry point. Hardcore old-school fans too have a healthy roster of new-generation artists to explore. Paycheck may have been a master of the honky-tonk downer, but everyone, it seems, who checks out this recording will be going home happy. (Kurt Wolff)

Wolf Eyes
Burned Mind (Sub Pop)

It's been said by many, many people, but it bears saying again: holy mother of shit, Wolf Eyes fucking rule.

Really, what band is better than this one? Who even comes close to the pure evil of their music? No one.

These boys are doing something truly perverse here, something very, very new. It's like they spawn this music in the woods and then bring it into the cities to infect everybody's brains. These dudes are warlocks. Music made with electronic boxes has never sounded so much like a living, breathing thing, and certainly not like some living, breathing, unspeakable thing that's crossing a deserted parking lot faster than you can reach your car.

As far as Burned Mind goes, I think the record proves that this may be the only band ever that major labels can throw money at without ruining their creative capabilities. They'll just buy equipment that doesn't break and can handle the total war that is their music. Or maybe they'll just buy more weed. Who knows.

In the past Wolf Eyes would make you wait through eight minutes or so of atmospheric buildup (part of the fun) before dropping some insane beat and a caterwauling, felt-rather-than-heard hook, with Nate Young growling and screaming all kinds of half-crazy lyrics somewhere underneath. The difference here is that almost every song comes crashing in immediately, like a dance party in full swing. The second song, "Stabbed in the Face," is structured so conventionally that it sounds like pop music to folks familiar with Wolf Eyes' progression, except that the verse-chorus-verse-chorus structure is made with slamming, unbearably abrasive, and varying grades of screeching.

This makes it easier on the listener, sure, but there's no loss of intensity. In fact, the punch lands even harder in places, and by the time the pure disco of "Village Oblivia" hits, you kind of get the feeling that this is a Wolf Eyes greatest-hits album, a very tight package of their most accessible pieces.

If you're a newcomer, you're gonna want to go see them live before buying the records (and you should buy all five zillion of them). Wolf Eyes' music doesn't make sense until you get up front at one of their shows and make the transformation into something that is half animal, half insane. That said, if there's a Wolf Eyes record that puts their dark ritual into a language the kids at Lollapalooza can understand, Burned Mind is it. Wolf Eyes play Fri/12, Mile High Club, Oakl. (510) 654-4549. Also Sat/13, Bottom of the Hill, S.F. (415) 621-4455. (Mike McGuirk)