Various Artists A History of Dub-The Golden Age Munich Records 3 + 1/2 Stars WITH A GROWING number of Reggae bands incorporating dub's sonic funhouse elements into their sound these days, its gratifying to see originators and pioneers of the form acknowledged. Compiling mid '70s and early '80s tracks from a variety of labels and dub heavyweights like King Tubby, Augustus Pablo, Scientist and others. This album showcases remixes and reworkings from reggae's deep heart, a manipulation of rhythms, echoes, sound effects and thundering bass lines that still sound ahead of their time. The result is reggae stripped to the bone and refleshed with drenching reverb and wrenching time distortions. Standouts include a majestic "Conquering Dub" from Yabba U, the percolating "Dub fi Gwan" by King Tubby, and a keyboard scorcher from Israel Vibration, "Unconquered Dub." One of the best introductions to the aural moonwalk of this astonishing music. --Rob Moore Impotent Sea Snakes God Save The Queens Masquerade 1/2 Star SHOCKING? OUTRAGEOUS? HARDLY. The Impotent Sea Snakes are about as offensive as some MTV geek sportin' a mohawk. This album is more schlock rock than punk rock. Sorry fellas, but this crap has all been done (better) before: transvestism/performing in drag (NY Dolls/Jayne County), live chainsaws and nudity (Plasmatics), simulated sex and gore (GWAR). With overly pathetic song titles such as "Chicks With Dicks," "Felching" and "Fist Fucking My Mother," how can anybody take these Atlanta-based knuckleheads seriously? Picture Twisted Sister playing half-assed Red Hot Chili Peppers metal-funk riffs. Why they bother to butcher the O'Jays' "Backstabbers" and the Stones' "Sympathy For The Devil" is plain brain numbing. If you want the real deal, check out deceased porno-punk madman G.G. Allin instead. --Ron Bally Frank Black The Cult Of Ray American Recordings THE ONLY REMOTELY interesting thing I've ever heard uttered by former Pixies guitarist Frank Black was a bootlegged conversation with Pere Ubu's David Thomas in which the pair dogged the fairer sex for its inability to, um, perform in this men's rock world. Misogyny notwithstanding, at least Black had an outrageous opinion. Here, he's found meandering through some half-baked concept piece, inarticulately looping together religious obsession, alien visitation, punk rock fashion, pop-cultural paranoia and Ray Bradbury. Tommy--which handled all this and more a quarter century prior--it ain't. Musically, Black's jettisoned his cool sci-fi surf guitar motifs in favor of bonehead metal. Worse, his finesse-free rhythm section mauls the material's arrangements so relentlessly that the listener can't take any joy in Black's quirky tempo shifts. To be fair, there are two terrific cuts: The lusty "You Ain't Me" has an insane vocal line and a series of brilliant, burning riffs, while "The Creature Crawling" is a slinkfest for tremelo guitar and neotribal beat. So maybe by the time Black hits the touring circuit it'll all come together. --Fred Mills

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