No Use For A Name are the very model of a Fat Wreck Chords band: their style is that quintessential mid-90s skate-punk sound, mixing brash melodic guitars with fast drums and slightly nasal vocals.

Of course, thereā€™s probably half a dozen other bands you could say exactly the same thing about, but none of them released this 26-track best-of compilation. Despite this collection featuring four different lead guitarists and two different bassists, thereā€™s a definite consistency to the selection (drawing from five Fat Wreck studio albums and one EP but ignoring their 2001 live record and first two independent albums) that ensures uniformity despite the non-chronological order. It rarely gets as good as the cracker single Soulmate, but punchy Justified Black Eye sets a more achievable benchmark, and there are also guest appearances from Dance Hall Crashersā€™ Karina Denike (On The Outside) and The Mighty Mighty Bosstonesā€™ Dicky Barrett (Growing Down).

If you kept reading past the first sentence of this review and donā€™t have any NUFAN albums, this overview will set you right; if you already have their albums, youā€™ll want to borrow this from a friend for the two unreleased tracks (History Defeats and Stunt Double), maybe the compilation rarity Coming Too Close, and the accompanying booklet packed with photos, posters, and reminisces from relatives, crew and past and present members, including (often apocryphal) stories about each song.

Owen Heitmann

Reel Big Fishā€™s first album since returning to an indie label is a mixed bag.

Itā€™s public knowledge that they were glad to escape their former major label contract, and this record reflects that happiness on ridiculously gleeful tracks such as Everybodyā€™s Drunk. Still, their goofy ska-rock has always had a cynical side, and that remains present with cuts like the archetypal The New Version Of You.

In fact, the album features a number of songs bound to become staples of the bandā€™s already gem-packed live set, particularly the stupidly fun Party Down and the minute-long blast of profanity Another F. U. Song. In a less gimmicky vein, the bittersweet singalong My Imaginary Friend is also a highlight, as is the appropriately-named reggae-influenced Slow Down.

However, after the first 10 brand new tunes ā€“ the ā€?monkeysā€™ (including a cover of Phil Collinsā€™ Another Day In Paradise) ā€“ come the ā€?chimpsā€™: no less than seven re-recorded versions of miscellaneous RBF songs previously available in one form or another. Of these, Iā€™m glad to have better-sounding versions of the vitriolic Hate You and self-pitying Call You (being among the few songs from their lo-fi indie debut Everything Sucks that werenā€™t re-recorded on their first two major label albums). But some of the others ā€“ notably Til I Hit The Ground, which originally dates back to a 1994 cassette demo, Return Of The Mullet ā€“ could have been left in the closet.

So it is a bit patchy, but heck, Iā€™m just glad they didnā€™t quit when the third wave of ska crashed back at the end of the last century. Theyā€™ll probably never have another hit as big as Sell Out, but by the sound of this fun-loving album, that doesnā€™t matter to them at all.

Owen Heitmann

Screamo stalwarts Silverstein ā€“ named after late great renaissance man Shel Silverstein ā€“ have moved in a markedly more accessible direction with third album Arrivals & Departures. Exactly how much of this transition can be attributed to the production by Mark Trombino (known for his work with Blink-182 and Jimmy Eat World) is unknown, but this is an album unmistakably oriented towards a wider audience than the band has previously cultivated.

The dominant flavour of the album is in a surprisingly radio-friendly vein and is best categorised as punchy melodic punk. However, there are other elements at play, most obviously in the form of strident breakdowns and occasional metal dissonance (as on opening track Sound Of The Sun). But the riffage is for the most part noticeably melody-driven, and Shane Toldā€™s screamed lines ā€“ while still present ā€“ take more of a back seat in favour of yearning sung vocals.

The schizophrenic Vanity And Greed is the least successful combination of styles, and album closer True Romance is a drawn-out lowlight. But Here Today, Gone Tomorrow, rocking Love With Caution and particularly the appealing Worlds Apart and Still Dreaming demonstrate the rewards gained from taking their tough sound in a more pop-oriented direction. How this evolution will sit with long-term fans is unclear, but Arrivals & Departures is all but certain to expand Silversteinā€™s market share.

Owen Heitmann