Search underground for some great rock

Eddie Spaghetti had it right, but then again, he always does.

"Rock 'n' roll records ain't sellin' this year," the Supersuckers frontman growled on the song of the same name from his band's last full-length. The tune's about making the rounds in rock dives across the country and sweatin' out one fierce record after the next only to see hacks like Godsmack and Papa Roach go platinum while bands like the Supersuckers nearly go broke.

Thankfully, the Supersuckers and their peers have kept up their end of the bargain, and in honor of the band's stop at the Beauty Bar tonight, let's run down some of the greatest underground rock records of the past 10 years. You may not have heard of some of these discs, but you most definitely need to.

Murder City Devils, "In Name And Blood" (Sub Pop): Backed by funereal keys and death-ray guitars, these howlin' Seattle rockers sing of heartache and whiskey on a disc that stings like both.

Backyard Babies, "Total 13" (Scooch Pooch): The heirs to Hanoi Rocks as Scandinavian sleaze-rock kingpins, the Babies bash out slobberin' guitar driven come-ons like Mötley Crüe when they had more chemicals running through them than a fertilizer plant.

Zen Guerilla, "Trance States In Tongues" (Sub Pop): Sweaty destructo blues spat through a megaphone by a towering frontman who could pass for an afro'd Frankenstein. Hits harder than a sock full of quarters.

Amps II Eleven, "Amps II Eleven" (Smog Veil): The Stooges + Grand Funk Railroad + lots of onstage bleeding = just about the fiercest batch of Rustbelt rock since the Laughing Hyenas and the Didjits were duking it out for Midwestern supremacy.

New Bomb Turks, "At Rope's End" (Epitaph): Like beer and snooze buttons, there's really no way you can go wrong with these Ohio smart bombs. Every album's a winner, but when it comes to the band's latter day output, this is tops, all yowlin', cock-of-the-walk wit, skronkin' sax and steel-belted jams.

Jesus Lizard, "Blue" (Capitol): Because frontman David Yow's vocals aren't buried in the mix beneath half-a-ton of empty beer cans, some Jesus Lizard die-hards don't like this disc. But the band's swan song is grossly overlooked, a blend of melody, schizophrenia and the baddest rhythm section in the land to send the group -- and any onlookers -- down for the count in style.

Dwarves, "Come Clean" (Epitaph): This disc should have been as huge as these dudes' arrest records, but alas, disrobing onstage and punching strangers doesn't pay the bills like it should. Still, this disc manages to be the band's most pop savvy effort -- think the Beach Boys in bondage gear at 125 mph.

Turbonegro, "Apocalypse Dudes" (Burning Heart): The best straight up rock 'n' roll record of the last decade? Maybe. The definitive statement on denim, friction, goats, booze and kickin' tail? Definitely.

Jason Bracelin's "Sounding Off" column appears on Tuesdays. Contact him at 383-0476 or e-mail him at jbracelin@ reviewjournal.com.