RECORDS

Pearl Jam: No Code (Epic, CD/LP/tape). After the grim intensity of 1994's Vitalogy, No Code can seem a sleepy affair, but given a few listens it unravels to exhibit a band making sensitive, atmospheric use of their resources: some fine bass and slide guitar, Eddie Vedder's achey- shakey voice and producer Brendan O'Brien's faraway honky-tonk piano. The familiar gruff grunge on show has less to offer than the lonely, nocturnal folkish ballads, which echo Grant Lee Buffalo, REM's Automatic For the People and, most of all, Pearl Jam's mentor, Neil Young. Don't be surprised if they end up as a country-and-western combo or a gloomy Hootie and the Blowfish. For now, No Code will appeal to an audience for whom grunge was a power chord too far. Nicholas Barber

Sebadoh: Harmacy (Domino, CD/LP/tape). Sebadoh have been adopted by the British press as the next big alternative American thing, and with good reason. Lou Barlow and his two sidekicks write heart-tugging lyrics (they're self-lacerating accounts of romantic failure, which always helps) and apply fuzzy guitar to fluffy, accessible chord progressions, in the manner of a modern-day Byrds. All that hamstrings them is the post-Pixies US college-rock belief that a scrappy, amateurish melange of guitar, bass and drums is the height of musical sophistication. After eight albums, this ham-fistedness starts to look like self-conscious underachievement, especially as those songs on which the arrangements have been buffed by a little practice, such as "Too Pure" and "Willing to Wait", indicate the prettiness of which Sebadoh are capable. NB

Various Artists: Tokyo Invasion Vol 1 - Cosmic Kurushi Monsters (Virgin, 2xCD). Finding it hard to cope with a world in which Dodgy can have a Top 3 single? This pulsating two-hour sampler of Japanese underground- rock delights could be the answer. By turns awe-inspiring, scary and downright unlistenable, this is the most thrilling exploration of uncharted sonic territory to emerge in many a long year. Sandblast your inner ear with the extraordinary guitar sound of Heiji Haino, re-route your digestive tract with the crazy Lenny-Kravitz-in-a-tumble-dryer vibration of Optical 8, and then snatch a much-needed moment of respite amid the exquisite calm of Ground Zero's "Paraison 1". As if all this weren't excitement enough, Cosmic Kurushi Monsters comes complete with a beautiful cover and totally incomprehensible sleevenotes. Ben Thompson