VARIOUS ARTISTS Macro Dub Infection Vol. 2 Gyroscope AS IT WOULD be impossible to top the previous Macro volume--a groundbreaking compilation including everybody from postrockers Tortoise to triphopper Tricky to isolationists Scorn--consider this an elaboration upon a theme. The theme being, of course, the ongoing infiltration of vintage dub techniques into postmodern schemata, thereby freeing the practitioners of ambient electronica to dive as low and deep into the subsonic strata as they previously soared far and wide into outer space. Some of the 24 tracks on these two discs indulge traditional, albeit sorely bruised, reggae; Bill Laswell, Porter Richs and Prince Paul check in and roll up some spliffs laced with codeine. Others (Him, Magnet) throb and groan with dark intent, while some (Mouse On Mars, an unexpected Palace "treatment" courtesy of Ice) veer into prettily textured, melodic territory. And never fear, avant-gardists and rebel youth: There's abrasive, hyper-active jungle (Alec Empire), deconstructionist psychedelia (Third Eye Foundation) and Dadaesque guitars 'n' FX weirdness (Rome) to keep you teetering on the experimental tip. --Fred Mills JOE COCKER Organic 550 Music COCKER PLAYS AGAINST recent soundtrack-schmaltz form, reprising the rootsy tunes of his glory days without sliding into a greatest-hits-revisited mode. Gruff as ever, he essays 14 covers, including Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic," Bob Dylan's "Dignity," Stevie Wonder's "You and I," and Steve Winwood's "Can't Find My Way Home." He sings them with such good-natured spaz-'n'-roll passion you can forgive him a couple of dogs, most painfully a reggae version of The Animals' "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood." But Cocker makes up for his transgression with a wonderful take on Leon Russell's "Delta Lady" that will remind you, if you've allowed yourself to forget, how brilliant Russell's compositions could be. --Gregory McNamee PAT METHENY GROUP Quartet Geffen Records A LOT OF Metheny fans are going to be disappointed with this one: While it's not a return to the wacko guitar stuff of Zero Tolerance For Silence, with the exception of "When We Were Free" and "Montevideo," it lacks the romantic, melody-heavy writing for which his group is known. It's as though the guitarist is attempting to record every color in the jazz spectrum, from the abrasive Ornette Coleman-style through nookie music like "Are You Going With Me?" This falls exactly in the middle, probably to the disfavor of fans from both extremes. Then again, Metheny has never seemed to give a shit, which is the way it should be in jazz experimentation. Unpredictable recordings like this one keep him from being mentioned in the same breath as the Rippingtons. --Dave McElfresh

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