Public Domain Koogaphone in full-on rockout. image:41040:0::0

I'm thinking I'll go the slacker route for NXNE 2008 by taking these ears where they'd never been before, to check out some new shit.Given the hellacious lineups and overexposed acts who should really take a break, easier said than done, but for the most part, managed to stay on mission.

The curse of the nine o'clock slot at the Reverb didn't slow down Boston femme MC Mistress much. Likely because her stuff is on the slo-burn and jammed with lyric, therefore best when you can hear what's she's throwing down, She's a big 'un and her physical presence lent an authority to some of the rhymes and with a voice supple enough to go the straight singing route, the lady's a comer. Especially if there's more sync between the spaced-out beats and the straight up vocalising.

Newcastle newbies Koogaphone buzzed the Bovine Sex Club wit a set of furious punkmetal riffs, with a side of down'n'dirty. Frontguy Nick bears a resemblance to androgynous era Jimmy Page and does a great job channeling Jimmy even as he bashes out a style all his own. The occult loving Page would have liked the channellng thing.

Frontgal/bassist Julie hefted a bigass Rickenbacker which she pummelled into submission all the while looking like a blonde Hitchcock heroine without working up a sweat, despite the sneaking suspicion she was wearing PVC under her demure mimi-dress.

Three tunes in, the drummer ripped off his shirt and joined in the fray for a solid set of gritrock, highlighted by "Day For Night" and "Snakebite City". About what you'd expect from a band named after a Polish phone sex site.

Could tell something was up at the Horseshoe, on account of having to weed-whack my way through a room full of camisoles. Precocious high schoolers and hometown kidz Spiral Beach were having loads of fun bringing their teencool underground warehouse party thing downtown.

The Black Bull's all gussied out now and if you knew it back in ts bker heyday, well..Same old crappy sightlines though, so if you wanted to be one of the maybe dozen folk with a shot at seeing the five piece band, you had to dance and dodge like Michael Jackson playing defence to keep 'em in sight .Grand Rapids Michigan quintet Brother Howe echoes the Pixies glory days with an menacing kind of punkified alt country, the singer coming on Ike Frank Black digging down on Link Wray riffs, with a side of Social Distortion.

This crew has the chops to get it mostly right. Mostly, because especially on the more punky material, the drummer let the side down with a lack of imagination on the fills. Brother Howe is a family affair, with everybody but the drummer sharing the same last name, so I'm thinking dude better be checking his beats. Not that the country fashionable dudes'n'dolls noticed much, they were too busy bitching about the lack of dancing room. Yet another reason why The Black Bull hags on to its title as the worst room to see an band during NXNE.

God Made Me Funky put on the full funk review show to a beered-up crowd, showing the kidz how ya do da old school funk, y'all. The nine piece showband's set was solid if melodically uninspired, but you just had to admire the godawful energy, peaking with the wisely chosen and faithful cover of "Jump Around", setting off the familiar floor quake the Reverb is famous for, a sure sign the house is literally rockin'.

Should have quit on that high note but followed the Montreal posse to El Mocambo to check out their homies, We Are Wolves. With the crowd waiting to eat out of their hands, WAW, likely suffering road fatigue, just couldn't make the kill. At numerous times , especially during their "hits", it seemed like the show was about to ignite only to fall back into the so-so camp. Not exactly a crap show but not the barn burner the crowd was primed for.