CURANDERO Arás Silver Wave IT WON'T HURT their careers to have Bela Fleck and Kai Eckhardt guesting on banjo and fretless bass, respectively, but the duo of Flamenco guitarist Miguel Espinoza and tabla/percussionist Ty Burhoe doesn't succumb to commercial or marketing pressures, either. This is an enchanting set that traverses and cross-pollinates everything from salsa-flecked funk 'n' soul ("Flirtatious"), lush North India neoclassical ("Enshalla"), and what might be off-handedly termed "flamencograss" ("Embrujada"), which finds Espinoza and Fleck dueling their melodic fingers off. With an even mix of uptempo and mellow sounds, this set is at once lively, invigorating, meditative, and hypnotic. It's also fairly uncompromising, too; three of the songs top the nine-minute mark, giving you ample time to soak in or scrutinize the tunes' complex arrangements. --Fred Mills JOHN SCOFIELD Quiet Verve AN ACOUSTIC ALBUM is a risky venture for the Sco guy, considering how he's known for a quirky attack and tones that depend on an electric guitar. Could be that he's getting tired of the New Orleans funk element--this disc is full of writing that no one in a blindfold test would associate with the guitarist. "Tulle" is carried by a far prettier melody than we expect from the bluesy composer, and cuts like "Away With Words" are damn near sentimental. In the hands of other players such redirection is usually a sign of getting old and simple. Not the case here. Scofield's career-long fascination with instrumental touch is shifting toward more sensitive experimentation. --Dave McElfresh HUMPERS Plastique Valentine Epitaph THIS AIN'T NO grunge. This ain't no hardcore. This ain't no foolin' around. This is pure unadulterated punk-injected rock and roll. Grab a bucket of Dwarves' blood, a cup of Cheetah Chrome's drool and a barrel of the New Bomb Turks' collective cum. Whip it into a frothy, intoxicating potion. Then administer the dose, apply electroshock therapy, and voila--you've created balls-to-the-wall lunatics known as the Humpers. The melodic, pissed-off noise the criminally under-appreciated Humpers concoct deserves more praise and recognition than the forgettable pop and fizzle of The Offspring, Green Day and Rancid combined. On their sixth album, these Long Beach, Calif., flesh and hooch peddlers swing from the Angry Samoans inspired "Chump Change" to the hair-shakin' "Dummy Got A Hunch" without pausing to take a breath. --Ron Bally

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