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BoC makes music that transports you to other places. One moment you’ll be riding on a merry-go-round with loads of kiddies on a sunny day in July and with the smell of sunscreen in the air, the next you’ll be swimming in a gyroscopic aquapool on Jupiter with loads of kiddies, except this time they’ll actually be kiddy-impersonating robots and it smells normal because robots don’t need to wear sunscreen. After their amazing debut, these guys said that Geogaddi could be “a perfect album”; we have no idea what a “perfect album” should sound like, but this is very good, and we recommend you present it to your ears as a gift.

The work of Atlanta-based Scott Herren, Studies demonstrates more original musical concepts than your ears will know what to do with. The sound Is both gloriously lo-fi and bumping as hell, with white noise and electronic fragments layered atop one another by someone whose understanding of music is as instinctive as it is comprehensive. By chopping up samples of emcees and using the resulting vocal fragments as individual instruments-including those of Aesop Rock and MF Doom-Herren opens up new pathways in your brain. Beats are bananas, production is tight, and this is one of the best records we’ve heard in years.

Warren Zevon, arguably the world’s leading exporter of thrice-plumbed angst, collaborates with authors Hunter S. Thompson and Carl Hiaasen, enlists the help of TV goof David Letterman, and, in doing so, creates the perfect album for a Prozac Sunday. Brilliant and comic, with equal parts of kick to the stomach and twitchy rock beats, Here is perhaps Zevon’s finest stab at the American zeitgeist; when he croons, “I’ve got a bitter sort of je ne sais quois—Guess what? I’m stirring it with a monkey’s paw,” you can just about sense that Zevon is perhaps too talented for his own good. Buy two copies.

The second LP from Brighton-based Stuart Cullen, who cites influences from Black Dog to Public Enemy to Phillip Glass. Mr. Cullen’s compositions are melancholy, detached, and beautiful, all wit11 an underlying sense of humor—which itself never interferes with the album’s emotional resonance. Pilate’s work cannot be easily categorized; “Nelson” is a vaguely retro, upbeat electro track, while “French Canadian,” perhaps tl1e album’s finest moment, is a beautiful downtempo gem with distant vocal samples, rich strings and a distorted piano melody. It makes us feel both happy and sad, and we highly recommend it.

Today it seems like the best film soundtracks are only good because they remind you of scenes from the film itself, so when we found one that could stand on its own we thought it deserved some credit. The soundtrack was put together by director Wes Anderson, wIt11 original music by Mark Mothersbaugh; together they have created a compilation witl1 the same polished, subtle emotion as the movie. The soundtrack ranges from The Clash and The Velvet Underground to newcomers like Nico for its inspiration, and Mot11ersbaugh’s classical compositions make this a trip you’ll want to take over and over again.

This is the third sophomore effort in our reviews section this month, and it avoids the infamous slump as deftly as the first two. Andy Turner’s diverse geographical roots come through in much the same way as they did on his first album, Cold Water Music. Turner grew up in Barrow-in-Furness—located directly in the Middle of Nowhere, U.K.-and Hinterland manages to effectively fuse the pine-scented serenity of his homeland with the human bustle of his more current urban habitats. Guest spots from Diamond D and on Souls of Mischief are welcome, and Kate Rogers returns for another dreamy vocal appearance.

Terry Gilliam’s classic is now a part of the distinguished Criterion Collection DVD series, which is good because we’re fresh out of Quaaludes and this movie is an ample substitute.

The plot involves a band of mischievous midgets pilfering a map, which gives them access to holes in the space-time continuum—and, in turn, brings them one step closer to fame and finance. Fortunately, a resourceful and evenhanded laddie named Kevin is chosen to escort them on their altogether ridiculous quest through various eras and epochs. Time Bandits provides a dizzying dose of cinematic lunacy, and the entire tale—right through to the very end—never relents in maintaining its grim, deranged sensibilities.

The DVD includes audio commentary by director Terry Gilliam, his co-writer (and ex-Monty Python collaborator) Michael Palin, and actors John Cleese, David Warner, and Craig Warnock. Make it yours (or convince someone else to do so).

So you’ve been watching television all night, and you can’t seem to find any shows in which extraterrestrial porno/goth nurses prod their patients’ asses with syringes, drawing from them a cacophony of discomforted howls to the tune of “Comin’ Round the Mountain.” You also can’t seem to track down any programs involving leather-clad interplanetary mistresses dealing hallucinogenic drugs to bug-eyed alien nerds, or live-action sitcoms about a family of American mannequins moving to Japan and their ongoing violent marital drama.

Now you can get all of this and a hot set of free stickers to boot, thanks to Japan’s infamous Pleasure Night collection, which is now available on delicious US region 1 DVD. It’s funny in that way that makes you look at the person next to you every five minutes or so and say something to the effect of, “Huh?”

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Annoying cartoon waif Linn Minmei (one envisions her creator as a sadist of the highest order) whines and pules throughout the entirety of the epic Robotech: The Macross Saga. Her “singing” will torment you in the same manner as the fiery pitchforks of Hell jabbing across your private bits. She will make you believe that suffering is eternal, and that when you die, she’ll be at your funeral, wailing away like Yoko Ono. You’ll watch the entire epic animated series just to see if she suffers a horrible fate—and rejoice when hero Rick Hunter makes his ultimate decision regarding Minmei. Oh, and you’ll thoroughly enjoy the whole six-DVD set from Harmony Gold and ADV Films, which features a brave band of humans attempting to defend the Earth against a race of giants. planes that transform into butt-stomping robots, firefights galore, intrigue, romance, and action of the two-fisted variety. As transforming robot space operas go, this one may be the Queen Mum.

So you know it’s illogical and stubborn, but you’ve been holding off on your purchase of The Usual Suspects DVD because of its curious lack of “extras.” The predicament has actually been forcing you to question your merciless dedication to consumerism; despite the fact that Suspects is one of the most tightly scripted, skillfully directed, and brilliantly acted films of the past 10 years—and knowing full well that you would watch it at least a dozen times a year until the day you di-the disc doesn’t have any deleted scenes, on-set documentaries, or original TV spots.

Well the Special Edition has finally arrived with all of this assorted goodness, and it sports both fancy new packaging and a cheaper price tag to boot. So now you can make amends with the gods of materialism and enjoy the towering cinematic achievement that is this film. (Oh, and if you somehow haven’t seen it, please stop wasting your time with this silly magazine and go do so immediately. Thank you.)

It might seem like we’re riding the Terry Gilliam/Criterion Collection dilz this month, but it’s really just our way of celebrating celluloid greatness. Brazil is a quite indescribably twisted work of genius, and so is this three-disc DVD gem. In no particular order: a “Production Notebook” (writers illuminate the script’s development through three drafts and treatments, a production designer displays his set designs, a costume designer explores the couture of fnsl1ion, fantasy. and fascism); Terry Gilliam’s original dream sequence storyboards; composer Michael Karnes talks about his score; a comprehensive study of the special effects, with loads of cool unused footage: What Is Brazil?, a rare on-set documentary: an original 1996 Criterion documentary discussing one of the most controversial releases in Hollywood history; and, on top of all that, a 94-minute version of Brazil—rearranged in the hope of making the film “commercial”—which, if nothing else, illustrates the corruptive power of editing. This thing isn’t cheap, but what, save for perhaps life, is?

Two brothers (ably played by Steve Zahn and Paul Walker) driving cross-country play a joke on a trucker with a CB. They stop to pick up love interest Venna (Leelee Sobieski). The joke backfires. Bad things happen. Much violence ensues. It would be easy to dismiss the creepy, toe-curling Joy Ride as little more than a mainstream pleaser with some in-vogue acting talent. That would be a mistake, however, and as the characters in Joy Ride discover, the simplest mistakes can have serious consequences. The tension is a superstar here—kicking in over the opening titles and building like it’s never stopping. A taut but playful script and some noir camera work of which Hitchcock would be proud all combine to deliver one of this year’s most surprising rides. And you get fries with this one—three alternate endings, as well as numerous commentaries which make for a superb DVD package. If you’ve got nothing to do tonight, we recommend you rent this sordid take on the classic road/buddy movie gone terribly wrong. Very popcorn-friendly.