Punk bands should have a different set of criteria for success than other musical acts. At the top of the list ought to be endurance. After 15 years of screaming one's throat bloody and playing in tiny clubs at stadium volume, it's amazing that any punk rocker could still speak or hear, much less write and record new music. The Anti-Heros, an Atlanta-based street-punk outfit, were hammering away at their instruments when grunge was just a twinkle in Kurt Cobain's eye, back when punk was the largely forgotten last line of defense against a horde of hair-metal bands. They've been going at a steady, if not breakneck, pace ever since, releasing albums, touring like mad, and influencing a new generation of punksters. Underneath the Underground is their first LP since 1996.

One Way System have a pedigree as authentic as they come, having formed in Blackpool, England during the Thatcher years of widespread unemployment and working-class unrest. They quickly rose to prominence and just as quickly disbanded, only to reunite in 1995. One look at these guys tells you they're the real deal: full-body tattoo work, mohawks, safety-pin piercings. Waiting for Zero has a little more metal influence than a punk purist might be entirely comfortable with, but that's to be expected; when you've been playing for almost 20 years, your music has to move in some direction.

This is an anthology of recordings by various students under the voice tutelage of Cari Cole, representing styles from jazz to folk rock to hip hop. Considering the origin of the album, it should come as no surprise that the singing is consistently excellent. What does come as a surprise, and a pleasant one, is that the voices showcased don't have that artificial, trained sound. Perhaps that's because Cari Cole offers not classical instruction, but rather a holistic, New Age approach to teaching the art of singing. Most of the disc is middle-of-the-road pop with a generic dance groove, but there are nevertheless some interesting influences at work – Tori Amos, Erikah Badu, Bruce Springsteen, Suzanne Vega, Nina Simone – in addition to the standard ones like Matchbox 20, Shania Twain, and Sarah McLachlan. You can contact Ms. Cole at www.caricole.com.

Though Dave Berg is from the Pacific Northwest and currently plays out of Nashville, his music is blessedly free of either grunge or country influence. It's non-regional acoustic pop with a dance beat, of the type popularized by Natalie Merchant and Sheryl Crow. Berg has won considerable critical attention as a songwriter, and it's no mystery why: each song is a miniature story, told in an honest, unaffected, but affecting voice. His thoughtful narratives of failed relationships and lessons learned draw you in; while following along with the lyrics, I found myself flipping ahead to see how the stories ended. Throw in musicianship as good as Tom Petty's or Tracy Chapman's, and you've got a singer-songwriter with exceptionally bright prospects. Read about him on the Web at www.daveberg.com.

Dread Motif are not a happy, feel-good band. If you didn't gather that from the title of their CD, Love Songs from the Abyss, you'd probably glean it from their song titles (e.g., "I Hate Her So Much"), or from the suggestive inside-cover photo of the band members standing on a bridge looking gloomy. Failing that, give the lyrics a listen. Singer/songwriter David Emmets sounds like he's been listening to a little Doors or Nine Inch Nails; if so he was doubtless sitting in his bedroom with the windows painted black, lighting candles and writing his memoirs in blood. Yep, it's that kind of album. "All the Dogs Learn to Read" seems to promise some respite from the misery, but instead only proves that Emmet has been horribly wronged by every woman he's ever met: "Every girl's a play/and every girl should feel my rage," he moans. This young man makes Eddie Vedder sound like Tiny Tim as he manages to pack as much consuming bitterness and misanthropy into 17 minutes as Roger Waters generated in his entire solo career. Next time you hate everyone in the world and yourself most of all, put down those pills and swing by www.davidemmets.com.

If the Forty Fives' music sounds familiar, there's a good reason for it: they consciously model everything about their act on Blues Revival and British Invasion bands, from their studio sound to their live show to their facial hair (all three of them wear Eric Clapton-circa-1965 muttonchops). The idea behind the '60s blues revival in the UK was to cleanse the music world's palette of the excesses of bubblegum pop, which had predominated the early part of the decade. Now it's 35 years later, and again the airwaves are choked with sticky-sweet goo. The Atlanta-based 45s are the new revivalists: their frenetic, bare-bones, guitar-driven sound is the most logical response to a music scene in which Britney Spears, the Spice Girls, and the Backstreet Boys all merit Rolling Stone covers. Are the 45s saving rock 'n' roll for the rest of us? Who knows. At any rate, they're fighting the good fight, and their music is sure to sound great to any fans of the Who, the Kinks, or even early Radiohead. To learn more about the 45s, see www.ngrecords.com

Four Star Mary are that strangest of beasts: a grassroots pop band. Wary of the single-hungry, what-have-you-done-for-me-lately mindset ever more prevalent at the major labels, Four Star Mary have chosen a life of playing to packed houses on the L.A. club circuit over perpetual indentured servitude to Seagrams Corporation. Which is by no means to say that they've had no help from above: WB's "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" has repeatedly tapped the band for both source and soundtrack music, and legions of cultish "Buffy" fans swarm the band's website and clamor to buy their new CD, Thrown to the Wolves. Thrown…, FSM's sophmore release, is a tight little package of alt pop which would probably fare well enough without a ready-made buyership; the inclusion of "Dilate," the first track, on the official "Buffy" soundtrack, due out later this fall, practically guarantees sales of Thrown... will be more than just healthy.

From the Frozen North, the land that gave us Alanis and Sarah McLachlan, comes yet another girl-rock group. The ladies in Kittie, however, are no touchy-feely popsters; don't expect to see them at Lilith Fair any time soon. Rather, they're an authentic, take-no-prisoners, dog-collar-wearing hard-core group. And they're not even old enough to vote. To hear lead singer Morgan Lander scream into the mic, you'd think these girls were Pantera in drag. Time was when a voice like that coming out of a teenage girl meant only one thing: demonic possession. When Lander actually sings, however, as she does on "Charlotte" and "Brackish," the effect of her baby-sweet vocals over the thunderous speed-metal backup is even eerier. Spit hits stores October 19. You can find Kittie on the Web at www.ngrecords.com.

Krunk have everything you could want in a punk band: an experienced front man (Scorpions drummer James Kottak, here singing and playing guitar under the moniker Jimmy Ratchitt); a hot bassist (Tommy Lee's sister Athena, who is married to Kottak); a sense of humor (Greatist Hits – note the spelling – is their first album); and ultra-conservative political leanings. Okay, so maybe we could do without the anti-immigrant invective of "Get Out of My Country," but bad politics never hurt a rock act; witness Ted Nugent and Guns N' Roses. KrunK describe themselves as a cross between Cheap Trick and Green Day, and they exhibit the anthemic melodies of the former and the self-loathing of the latter, along with a touch of Pixies fun and Bon Jovi melodrama. See for yourself at their website.

Classic '70s punk, right down to the combat boots and Nazi references. Just as the Sex Pistols addressed the disenfranchisement of the British working class, so the Lower East Side Stitches grapple with such weighty social issues as "drinkin'," "pukin'," and "smokin' lots of herb." And that's just in the first three songs! Okay, so maybe the Stitches are like a Mad magazine parody of a punk band. To their credit, they'd probably take that as a compliment. To join the mayhem, go to www.ngrecords.com, or watch them in Spike Lee's Summer of Sam or The Adventures of Sebastian Cole.

The Midwest has always been a stronghold of hard rock, and nowhere is this more the case than Ohio. Although their roots are in Buckeye soil, Lucky Levin aren't your typical Ohio metal band. Sure, their music offers generous helpings of the heavy stuff, but blazing across the standard powerhouse rock on Nothing Personal is a wide progressive streak. Their use of vocal harmonies throughout the twelve tracks brings to mind Alice In Chains, and many of their tunes contain Rush- or Yes-like instrumental breaks. Confirming this impression is drummer Dave Corn, who plays with a lighter touch and more nuance than your average power trio stickist. Lucky Levin's website is www.luckylevin.com.

Picasso Jones describe themselves as somewhere between Shawn Mullins and Radiohead; think less Radiohead and more Shawn Mullins. That, however, describes only one manifestation of Picasso Jones. 4.20 is an exploratory album, a snapshot of a band in the midst of an identity crisis. Of the several workable musical identities showcased on 4.20, the best by far is the one they adopt for "Lucinda," a two-steppin' folk ballad of genuine beauty. Unlike some of their other tracks, which suffer from effects of overkill and overproduction, "Lucinda" is spare and economical. The smart, poignant lyrics and deeply felt vocals bring to mind the Counting Crows' better tunes. You can listen to "Lucinda" and other Picasso Jones songs at www.picassojones.com.

I'm going to bestow upon Z-Plan the highest praise known to me: they sound like Boston. Not enough like Boston, to be sure – there's really no substitute for Brad's bionic voice and Tom's godly fingers – but the similarities are more than just striking: lush, overdubbed vocal harmonies, glorious guitar solos galore, and more post-production than a James Cameron film. They also have an unfortunate tendency to indulge in REO Speedwagon-like cheesiness; the lyrics to one song include "Lock me up and throw away the key/ If love is a crime then I'm pleading guilty." Nevertheless, it is clear from Circus that Z-Plan aspire, in their better moments, to a Bostonian ideal of perfection, and what more could you ask of a band? www.z-plan.com