There's been a lot of talk about the packaging of Steal This Album. It looks like a homemade CD, with the title scrawled across the face and no cover art. After listening to it a few times, the themes of commercialism and gluttonous consumerism are apparent. Yet, the album is also being released in a limited-edition run with four different versions of album art, designed by the four members of the band. I understand that the idea is to make the album a KISS-type of collectible or memorabilia or whatever for the core fan base, but, um, isn't that fostering excessive consumerism? Will the die-hard SOAD fans rush out and buy four copies of the same album just because the cover art is different? Is that abiding by the SOAD code of ethics? Why not distribute all four versions of the cover art to their fan club for free?

But I digress. Steal This Album is a tightly wound package of streamlined metal-hardcore songs. SOAD are every bit as intelligent and unorthodox as they were on Toxicity, but these songs are heavier, angrier, and ironically, more ethereal.

"Chic 'N' Stu" opens the album with singer Serj Tankian and guitarist-singer Daron Malakian ranting about food, mass consumption, and stammering "advertising causes me therapy" over and over, mimicking the advertising industry's never-ending assault on our brains. The first single "Innervision," kicks off with a drum sequence kind of like Pearl Jam's "Evenflow" and pretty much outlines how the rest of Steal This Album is arranged. There's a patchwork pattern of bone-crushing rhythms and soft, dreamy interjections, highlighted by Tankian and Malakian harmonizing. There are strong undercurrents of Arabic music, especially whenever Tankian breaks into high-pitched cries like an ancient mystic channeling his god. With gut-wrenching fervor, "Boom!" and "A.D.D" ferociously attack how politics abuses human rights. While children die of starvation, the government spends billions on tools of mass destruction.

Steal This Album is replete with SOAD's creative approach to songwriting, be it on the hardcore throw-down "Streamline" or the acoustic "Roulette." A glorious chorus chants and screams on "I-E-A-I-A-I-O" and the whole thing is brought to its knees by Shavo Odajian's pummeling bass lines. Drummer John Dolmayan has a field day on each track -- his playing bounces between bombastic and sparse with impeccable fluidity. But vocalists Tankian and Malakian are the extremists here. They're not afraid to traverse the musical scale, delivering songs like poets, with words that are spoken, sputtered and screamed.

Metal is beautiful once again. — J.F.

And though their radio-familiar sound may endear them to listeners (as sales of their first disc indicates), I'm not sold yet. Don't get me wrong, this disc will probably outsell its predecessor, and doubtless you'll hear the band plenty on the airwaves and see them making the rock-star rounds. I just get suspicious when I hear a melding of musical genres that sounds a bit too slick.

There are some kick-ass numbers on the disc to be sure; "Holdin On" -- a raucous number that harkens back to the good ole days of southern rock -- shimmers as much as it pounds, beginning with slide-guitar licks before falling into a melodious chorus. And good southern rock is much like a good barbecue sauce, a sweet taste plus a fiery kick that makes you crave more. "Holdin On" possesses those qualities, making you want to hit repeat once the song finishes. Another ripping song on the disc is "Rest in Pieces," written by Motley Crue bassist Nikki Sixx. The song begins with a dreamy openness, getting heavier by the chorus, though not a hardcore heaviness, rather the sound is layered, big, with smart production that almost gives the song a movie-soundtrack feel.

The first single, "Always," begins with a Nirvana-esque feel to it before the vocals rage, the chords gets shorter, and vocalist Scott bemoans, "I love you, I hate you, I can't get around you." The lyrics provide a good example of how the band's overall songwriting has a simple sensitivity to it, not simple in a bad sense, but straightforward and to the point. They are blue-collar lyrics as it were, direct, telling a story of the mundane in terms that the silent majority can understand.

There are elements though that still tug at my ears, like when the band moves effortlessly from, say, an indie sound to a hardcore rap -- as if someone flipped a switch between the two. Perhaps the guys figured they'd try a bunch of stuff in the studio, since that's what studios are for. And yet the songs flow freely enough, so maybe I'm getting too critical. The title track, for example, shifts gears just as I described, though the rap section occurs just briefly enough to let you know it's there before the sound returns to a big indie ballad. My guess is these guys rock like banshees live. And aside from the minor stylistic things that might bother a few, the disc is solid rock and roll, more entertaining to the ears than a lot of stuff lately, perhaps a sign that the current state of rock is on the upswing. And that's good news. — B.R.

The current crop of hip hoppers saturating the airwaves can't hold a firecracker to J5. As with Quality Control, Power in Numbers is real hip hop for adversaries of hip-pop bands on labels like Tha Row, Murder Inc., and Bad Boy. J5 focus on the music, not on showing off the money in their pockets.

Besides telling us that J5 keep it real like no other, Power in Numbers works a political curve that the Top 40 hip-poppers forsake. "Freedom" takes poverty and racism and encourages change by beginning with the individual, while "I Am Somebody" poses the question, "Who said ghetto rap is all about a dope sack, a pimp slap, or a big black gat?" It's an us-versus-them battle that is meant to separate the old schoolers from the no schoolers.

"Sum of Us" could be J5's theme song. They tell you where they're coming from, and the tone holds its head high against an urban backdrop. They speak of one-hit wonders who leave the game with (figuratively) empty pockets, despite all the attention the hits garner. J5 were among the few male participants in Candie's campaign to prevent teen pregnancy last year, and they continue to have youth welfare in mind. They hope that the next generation is "not so quick to cash a check and disrespect/ talkin' guns and sex/ chasin' death but end up getting laid to rest at your request." The rapid, sage delivery gets support from DJs Cut Chemist and Nu-Mark.

Driven by an eerie, threatening tune reminiscent of the Nightmare on Elm Street musical score, "One of Them" is an all-out bitch slap. The emcees enlighten us on "how self-admiration takes a soul of a man." They target rappers who consider themselves stars, yet are more concerned with getting on MTV's "Cribs" than on making a solid contribution to hip hop at large. "When you speak it's, 'Fuck the police.' Am I to believe that's the way you really would be... if there was no cameras allowed and your body guard didn't hafta hold your hand through the crowd?" — J.F.