There's been a lot of gum-flappin' around these parts (and prolly where you are, too) about how "quiet is the new loud." Those doing the flappin' are generally either the followers of earnest young guys with screwed-down hair, Keane-painting eyes and (whaddaya know!) acoustic guitars, or the earnest young guys themselves.

Not that there's anything, y'know, wrong with that. It's just that they're mistaken.

Exhibit A: Kristin Hersh has a (relatively) new band called 50 Foot Wave. They are... (wait for it)... LOUD. Yup, she of the haunted solo acoustic throwdown has plugged back in, with a vengeance.

If Throwing Muses have been your only exposure to Kristin Hersh, 50 Foot Wave is going to be a bit of a departure. For those of you know her from such solo albums as Hips and Makers and Sunny Border Blue... well, y'all are in for a mighty big surprise. Before you start this one up, you'll want to strap yourself in good and tight.

Golden Ocean comes roaring out of the box hard and fast, and could easily pin you against the back wall if you're not ready for them. It's loud and fierce and just amazingly... well, heavy is really only word for it. (That term is gonna date me, but hell, we burnt that bridge a long time ago.) Put Hersh & Co. up against any of the current crop of scowling, Cookie-Monster-hollering, riff-deficient metal mongers and 50 Foot Wave will bury those dudes like your kitty buries her turds. No contest.

What makes it so?

Well, Ms. Hersh slathers a whole buncha crunchy guitar hither and yon, which vacillates between punky ramalama and metallic aggression. She even drags out the Jimi Hendrix Memorial Wah-Wah Pedal a couple of times, most effectively on the doomy "Petal". Piling onto The Big Noise is the ferocious rhythm section. You're familiar with the concept of the guitar hero, right? I'd like to take this opportunity to claim Bernard Georges as my personal bass hero.

Busy basslines are his speciality, and at times he takes the lead and Hersh plays rhythm. As for Rob Ahlers' drumming - he maneuvers through the hairpin breakneck time changes Hersh throws at him with (apparent) ease, throwing in some nice fills while he's at it. In a word, these guys are tight. I've seen them live, I've heard the studio recordings, and I'm here to tell you that they are undeniably in sync. Stop and start on a dime.

I'd use the phrase "well-oiled machine" except it's been worn out from years of overwork, and besides, there's too much of the human involved here to invoke machinery. Hersh wears her heart on her blood-soaked sleeve.