Kentucky, the state, has a rich and wonderful history. Horses. Blue grass. Cocktails in summertime. Lots of cocktails. My Morning Jacket. VHS or Beta. What's that, you ask? It's VHS or Beta, Lexington's latest catalog entry in their great and glorious history.

Practically creating a genre unto themselves on 2002's house/funk drenched EP Le Funk, VHS or Beta gloried in replicating the tones and textures of ‘80s dance music, but performed with conventional instruments. Some bangers got it, some didn't. In ‘04 VHS or Beta returned with Night On Fire, a record that was also eminently danceable, yet a slight tug on the strings of style could also be felt. Come 2007 and the band have practically disposed of their mirrorball and champagne, Bring On The Comets more closely recalling the Cure and Wang Chung than old standbys Depeche Mode and Duran Duran.

VHS or Beta's main mouth, Craig Pfunder, explained it like this for an upcoming issue of Remix Magazine:   

"For so long," the singer/guitarist explained, "we were about trying to recreate dance music with traditional instruments. That was a big part of our identity. But there was so much more musically that we could express. With Bring On The Comets (Astralwerks, 2007) we are taking a direction that is very different from the past. With that comes the knowledge that the older fans might be expecting Night On Fire II and that is not going to happen. We've stopped worrying what we should do in relation to the last record."

Such is the case with today's MP3, "Can't Believe A Single Word."  Pfunder puffs up his chest, and vocal magnetism on the order of Spandau Ballet or Human League ushers forth, loud, clear, historical. You can almost see the Flying V guitar histrionics, the driving Roger Taylor (Queen) styled beat, the funky Nicky Hopkins acoustic piano plonking. This is anthemic pop, and the rest of Bring On The Comets is equally ambitious. C'mon, feel the noize!

Saul Bellow fans rejoice!: Superstars in their native Australia, Augie March have a few shows lined up to coincide with the stateside release of their new album Moo, You Bloody Choir. The all acoustic version of "Clockwork" on offer today is classic Augie March: hushed atmospheres, whispered vocals, ringing guitar and piano, it's the kind of hypnotic songcraft that will transport you to a quiet mountaintop retreat or perhaps to the grave of Jim Morrison.

The Augie March story begins in Shepparton (about two hours north of Melbourne), where Glenn Richards (singer/guitarist/songwriter), David Williams (drummer), Edmondo Ammendola (bass) and Adam Donovan (guitarist) spent their childhood. Rumor has it that craggy Aussie rockers Midnight Oil ("Beds Are Burning") discovered the band one hot and miserable day as they were working the take-out counter at Smurphys, Australia's answer to Jiffy Lube. Recording the boys in their own mudswept studio, MO soon realized they couldn't contain Augie March. Well, rumor has it.

After a handful of well received gigs (so long Smurphys!), the band signed with Australian indie Ra Records which eventually released a handful of watershed Augie March recordings, Thanks For The Memes, Waltz (1998), Sunset Studies (2000), and Strange Bird (2002).

Moo, You Bloody Choir was recorded in Melbourne, San Francisco, and the band's own studio in Nagambie (in country Victoria), the album revealing both the glories and pressures of Aussie superstardom. They no longer have to lube their own cars, but a good Vegemite sandwich is increasingly hard to find.