Though you'll swear you've heard many parts of Ride the Blinds' self-titled debut among the works of Led Zeppelin, the Black Crowes, and the Stones, you'll commend the band rather than condemn them. Lead singer Chris Guthridge's voice and guitar work make sweet nostalgia together, and the rhythm duo of Bill Cramer and Nick Cramer remind you that people used to dance to rock music. Critics claim Ride the Blinds make the old new again, but there's nothing particularly new in their music. It's more that they convey an intangible quality of contemporaneity in their performance that makes them more than just victims of the retro generation. They're not simply finding salvation through the golden riffs of rock 'n' roll's heyday; they're coming to this musical destiny from their own road. Fittingly, their songs project the image of a two-lane highway running through rural America on a romanticized trip through middle-of-nowhere blues clubs in a rusty old tour bus, without a care beyond a bottle of whiskey and a six-string. The live sound of Ride the Blinds begs for these songs to be witnessed in person. Looking more suited for computer programming than rocking their asses off, Ride the Blinds infuse their tracks with a surprisingly animated charisma. Songs like "Wind Up Clock," with Nick Cramer's four-minute drum solo, and "Grace Alley," with its instantly catchy hook, are quickly becoming favorites at their concerts. If you enjoy classic rock in any of its forms, Ride the Blinds will not disappoint. Ride the Blinds play Sat/19, Last Day Saloon, S.F. (415) 387-6343. (Keith Axline)

Opio
Triangulation Station (Hiero Imperium)

With the recent Bay Area hip-hop boom, it's only right that we hear some noise from the Hieroglyphics camp. It's been more than a decade since Hiero redefined Oakland's sound with gritty beats and an emphasis on lyrics instead of dance or pimp skills. In the early '90s, Hieroglyphics swept over hip-hop with a trio of instant classics: Souls of Mischief's '93 'til Infinity, Casual's Fear Itself, and Del tha Funkee Homosapien's sophomore masterpiece, No Need for Alarm. But like ugly goblins, Jive and Elektra turned their backs on the Bay, and so without skipping a beat, the Hiero crew formed Hiero Imperium in 1997 and began releasing their own records. The latest, Triangulation Station, comes from Souls of Mischief member Opio. The record is a solid offering with a few standout tracks. On "Drivers Wanted," Opio is joined by his Souls of Mischief brethren over an up-tempo happy beat. The combination of the four MCs is excellent, and if you were a fan of '93 'til Infinity, you'll be filled with joy while listening to Souls in top form. Taking a cue from Ghostface's Pretty Toney Album, "Talk Dirty" features vocal samples throughout the song instead of just on the chorus. Vocal samples are good for rhyming over, and somebody should tell Kanye West that they don't all have to be sped up to sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks. Cameos from Casual, Planet Asia, Rasco, and Hiero torchbearer Del add some vocal variety, but it'd be cool to see some less predictable guest appearances in the future (the Executioners' Roc Raida does scratch on the record, which is great) – maybe East Coast MCs or how about a song with Freestyle Fellowship discussing the beef their crews once shared? On "Soundtrack to My Thought Process," Opio repeats a line he spit 14 years ago on the classic "Burnt," which introduced the world to Hiero. The self-referential line is "Might I be the greater innovator of the rhyme scheme," and it's dope to hear it again. The majority of the production was handled by Opio, with two tracks by A-Plus, one from Domino, and one from the Pharcyde's Bootie Brown. Someday Hiero should go nuts and use a producer outside of the Hiero camp to get some variety. As it stands, the beats are mostly jazzy loops layered over more jazzy loops. But there are those of us who will always love Hiero, and happily, this album has a few reasons for that love to continue. (Nate Denver)

Wendy Kroys
Songs about Lust, Revenge and UFOs (self-released)

Only true lovers of trashy rawk and space-cadet stoner pop could produce such an utterly in-the-garage recording as the Wendy Kroys' Songs about Lust, Revenge, and UFOs. It's a ramshackle, screwy tribute to the pure sounds of the Demolition Doll Rods and Holly Golightly, skewed occasionally along the Spacemen 3-Galaxie 500 axis. The guitars of JoJo Kroy and Damin Kroy – let's just pretend they're all named Kroy – are genuinely rockin' and oft high-flying; the rhythm section (Carolyn on bass and Kelley on drums and keys) specializes in primitive sex-boogie chugalug. Lyricist and occasional drummer Carrie K. embroiders the proceedings with loopy, singsong narratives that are irrepressibly cheerful, blithely perverse, and unapologetically smutty. Case in point is "Garden Gimp," a completely groovy little dollop of Stereolab pop concerned with the celebratory rituals of the bondage and leather community: "My garden gimp he is so cute / In his latex bodysuit / He's my precious ball-gag mute / La-la la." Other charmers include "Dafoe-a-Go-Go," the not-quite-stalker-fangirl love cry; "He's Dead," a vicious recital of calculated romantic vengeance; and "Bike Messenger Boy," a rather bawdy little number about goat-rutting feminine lust for sweaty pedal couriers. The album concludes with 10-minute-plus space-rawk vamps "Sparkle" and "Saucer's Are Go!" Instead of snappy, smarty lyrics, they include awesome solos with reverb and chorus. The Kroys take their name from Linda Fiorentino's vengeance-minded femme fatale in The Last Seduction. According to the band's Web site, their namesake not only gets away with her mayhem but also even escapes the typical fate of movie fatales: a noble and/or fiery death or romantic compromise. Boozy, leering self-actualization never sounded so good. The Wendy Kroys play Sun/20, 12 Galaxies, S.F. (415) 970-9777. (Josh Wilson)