The Wetspots like to imagine a society in which sexuality is celebrated. They want to write true, intelligent, pee-your-pants funny songs about sex for all orientations and identities.

Tunes include a catchy singalong ditty about masturbation, a rock-out ode to drunken teen sex experimentation and a love song entitled Do You Take It Up The Ass?

"That song is just a lovely bossa nova that's actually more about broaching the question than receiving the answer," says John Woods, the guitar-strumming, sock-garter-wearing half of the cabaret husband-and-wife duo.

"It's supposed to be a parody of a certain type of song in those cheese-ball Disney animated movies like Aladdin or The Little Mermaid, or in old-fashioned musicals. The two romantic leads are smitten with each other, they think this is the love of their life, but there's one burning question they need answered before they know it's true love."

Entertainers with hearts of gold, the Wetspots hope to inspire people to get a bit more experimental or maybe just a bit more open about their sexuality.

"We often hear that our songs have inspired people to talk about trying new things in the sack.

"There was the time when two guys and a girl came up to us after a show and said, �We liked your song about three-ways so much, we're gonna go have one right now.'

"By the time we got home from the show they'd e-mailed us webcam photos. So we e-mailed them back asking to see some man-on-man action, and they were happy to accommodate us with more photos. I think it may have been those guys' first taste of bisexuality. It always brings a tear to my eye."

Don't make the mistake of thinking loud, kick-out-the-jams rock bands, the kind that crank their amps way past 10, will ever disappear.

Ask anyone who left Rancho Relaxo after Clothes Make the Man's earsplitting performance at Canadian Music Week. It got so loud, a squad car came to check out a noise complaint.

"That was funny, because the fuzz actually showed up and tried to stop us from rocking," says Ryan McLennan, the band's leader. They did not succeed. Rock 'n' roll 1, cops 0.

Expect more of the same high-energy, hard-rocking antics this time around. "We like to play our gear loud, and we like to jump around onstage a lot."

McLennan lets his unresolved issues and anxiety loose in an aggressive, gravel-voiced howl that retains a sensitive side. The songs on their EP are thick, chunky alternative tunes � so leave your bang-sweeping, toe-tapping Mod Club dance at home. These dudes play hard and fast for people to thrash to.

"It's hook after hook after hook," he says. "Oh yeah, and melodies with kick-ass drums."

their sound's been described as everything from riot grrrl and sludge rock to metal, and the girls in Toronto-based Cougar Party definitely know how to keep things interesting onstage.

Formed two years ago by members of now defunct queer-core heroes the Plath and Mach Tiver who met when their bands were playing Ottawa's Ladyfest, the Cougars, who name-check Sleater-Kinney and Pretty Girls Make Graves as major influences, are keenly interested in music with a message.

"Our songs are about not letting society rule or judge your decision-making in life," says bass player/vocalist Shannon Mitchell. "Some of our tunes are from more of a personal-is-political headspace."

Guided by a fierce DIY ethic, they also want to encourage a more women to join the music community. The three members recently released their independent debut, heartbreakers/homewreckers.

Their plans include touring in Ontario and Quebec, making a stop in Pittsburgh and performing at Pride in Toronto.

Their music is dense with politics but still has a sense of fun, and they definitely know how to rock out.

"Bring your earplugs" warns Mitchell, "cuz it's going to be loud!"

Dandi Wind is, of course, not Dandi Wind's real name. It's actually Dandelion Wind Opaine. Her parents were hippies, and she was raised in a log cabin in the forest with no running water. Cool, huh?

"I do feel really privileged to have been able to grow up in a situation that is completely different," she says. "Some of our music is inspired by childhood memories, but a lot of it is inspired by living in the slums in Vancouver."

Wind and long-time collaborator Szam Findlay (pronounced "Sam" and not, much to my disappointment, Shazzam) blend theatrical performance with their rather experimental music. Tr�s artistique.

"We both really wanted to do something in the vein of Skinny Puppy, who are from Vancouver and one of our bigger inspirations. Szam really loves their music, and I love the visual aspects. The only band I can think of that has really melded theatre and music is Skinny Puppy."

Still, they see this as their pop project.

"We wanted to do something more mainstream and easily accessible that could be played in bars and clubs. I do a lot of dance and theatrical performance in our shows, but it's not so artsy that a kid from the suburbs wouldn't appreciate it."

If there's a problem with kids These Days, it's that they lack leadership.

Instead of one or two songwriters, they boast four (out of five members). And none seems inclined to tear the band apart with his own dreams of solo stardom. Blame hiphop in general and the Wu-Tang Clan specifically.

Speaking on behalf of the KTD collective, Marc Morrissette says, "The guys in Wu-Tang all play together, but they have their own solo projects."

KTD want the same. And while their arrangement poses obstacles, it shifts the focus to the music. They cultivate lush, sprawling soundscapes fashioned from 20-something turmoil.

This is a midway band. Midway through, their songs dart off into new arrangements. The guitars rocket skywards, the drums unleash a furious primal noise, and the vocals convey so much emotional instability that Thom Yorke and Radiohead could have stepped in.

Four songwriters squabbling about the sanctity of their work could have proved disastrous, but for the KTD collective it's a boon.

"There's a lot of variety," Morrissette says. Band members switch places, radically altering the nature of each song. "We're rhythmically focused, but there are a lot of melodies."

The Fembots are entering a new era.

They've just finished recording their third album, The City, to be released at the end of the summer. It's their first recorded with a full band and captures how their sound has changed over the year since the duo of Dave MacKinnon and Brian Poirier expanded to a more traditional lineup.

"We were starting to write songs that just the two of us couldn't perform live," recalls MacKinnon from his Toronto home. "Putting together the band, we had specific musicians in mind. But most of the talented players in town already have a few projects on the go, so we ended up drawing from a large pool of people.

"The lineup changes based on who's available. You could see us several times and never see the same band."

When the Fembots first appeared on the scene, they were noteworthy for the arsenal of old reel-to-reel tape machines, toys and mechanical devices they used to provide the rhythms and atmosphere behind their haunted slow-motion folk.

It was fascinating to watch them fiddle with all the devices while playing and singing, and the textures were evocative, and a bit creepy as well.

Their choice to forgo the weirdness and concentrate on the songs took some faith that people would still be interested without the gimmicks.

"You can start losing inspiration when it's just two people. I've always found that the best moments are the accidents, and they come easier when there's a group of people playing together."

patience, the hyperactive and giggly singer of Australian trio the Grates, is lounging beside the pool at an L.A. hotel.

"We've been the most mother-fucking luckiest band in the world. I don't know how much happier we could get before our heads explode," she gushes.

And why not? The Grates have had an unlikely career path so far. They started out recording in guitarist John's family shed, burning ultra-tiny runs of CDs with homemade covers.

They thought burning 120 CDs for their first little tour was big time, but then things suddenly got bigger. One of their limited-edition demo CDs reached Australia's national radio station. So taken were the broadcasters with the Grates' shambling, optimistic punk rock that the disc, which no one could buy, was put into medium rotation.

The band gave the station another CD as a thank-you, and it was added to playlists as well. They learned that the radio station had burned copies and sent them to other people.

Next, an advertiser wanted to use the joyful and bouncy Trampoline in a jeans commercial. Not bad for people who sound like they're still learning to play their instruments, recording on an 8-track in an old shed.

They've just released their first official EP, The Ouch. The Touch, on their new label, Dew Process, to favourable reviews internationally and are very excited to make their second journey to Toronto.

So what do they sound like, you ask? Patience screams like a happy child after too much candy, John strums out rudimentary garage rock rhythms, and Alana pounds the drums manically. The whole thing teeters on the verge of falling apart, but instead of the anger and angst that usually propel punk, the Grates seem to be having the best time of their lives.

But Patience admits that they have their weepy moments.

"We had a snowball fight last time we were in Toronto. It was the first time Alana had seen snow and she was really excited about it until John threw a snowball that hit her in the ear," Patience laughs. "I'm always the innocent bystander warning them, but it always ends in tears with those two."

even though k'naan wasn't happy enough with his Youssou N'Dour collab to include it on the debut disc he's wrapping up, the Senegalese superstar has no hard feelings about helping hoist the Somalian MC onto the map.

The two share a musical burden that supersedes most squabbles.

"I'm kind of like a sound mediator between Africa and North America," says K'naan over the phone from his T-dot spot, "between my culture and the hiphop culture I have adopted."

His bi-continental rhyme liaison status creates some interesting contrasts. While his rapid-fire flow reflects his Somalian native tongue, I see from his higher-pitched register where the Slim Shady comparisons are coming from. So can K'naan.

"I'm kind of a storyteller, so for that reason also I sound like Eminem. But once you get into the music I make, you understand that it's a different perspective � it's a different thing."

No kidding. No disrespect to Em's sobby tale of trailer-park redemption, but as a Mogadishu refugee whose family moved to Rexdale years ago, K'naan's got some real tales to tell.

And while Slim's material is rife with cheesily epic strings and comedy beats, K'naan's record will be infused with traditional African instruments, rhythms, personality and thoughts on the state of the world.

Just don't peg him as the African Chuck D. K'naan doesn't fully embrace a political rapper label.

"I may speak about political things, but I'm more about being honest."

no one in canada or the united states admits to playing "white reggae," a disparaging label the band hates.

In honing their easy skanking vibe, Bedouin Soundclash trample the thin line between love and theft.

Pieces of Bob Marley, the Police, Bad Brains and the Clash are mashed into a wildly eclectic aural collage, the sound of a multicultural summer.

Bassist Eon "How is it white reggae if I'm black?" Sinclair, drummer Pat Pengelly and lead singer/guitarist Jay Malinowski rise to the occasion, kicking out sprightly rock like they were brought up near saltwater tides.

Since releasing their sophomore disc, Sounding A Mosaic, the group has played more than 300 shows across North America in the last year.

"We've gotten tougher onstage," says Malinowski. "The live show brings a lot more energy; it's a bit more jump-up than the album."

If you've ever been to Trenchtown, you know the roads are bumpy, the pace relaxed, the living hard. That's Bedouin Soundclash, a heartfelt interpretation of the kind of music that, when it hits, makes you feel no pain.

the garage-rockin' ladies in

Magneta Lane have been riding a big honkin' horseshoe since they formed their band just over a year and a half ago.

First, the newly minted musicians got signed to Paper Bag Records pretty much right out of the gate. Then the sweetly crunchy Strokesish hooks on their Constant Lover EP struck a nerve, and their video clips turned up in rotation on MuchMusic.

Factor in tour hookups with the likes of Sloan and controller.controller and it's easy to understand why some cranky-pantses are jealous about Magneta Lane's string of seemingly instant successes.

So have they paid their dues? Frontwoman Lexi Valentine sets the record straight.

"Oh god, we get that all the time," she laughs. "We're used to it by now. It's kind of nice to know not everyone loves us."

While touring with CanCon icons like Sloan might seem like a rock 'n' roll dream, Valentine says playing for testosterone-heavy crowds came with its own set of repercussions.

"We played a place called Cowboys in Winnipeg, and there were some, uh, incidents. First, a guy was waiting for (bassist) French outside the bathroom. Then, when we got back to the hotel, there was another guy outside our room who insisted it was his room. He chased French and (drummer) Nadia down the hall, and we had to call in security cuz he was so drunk. He refused to leave and ended up falling asleep outside our door."

Luckily, none of that has dissuaded the three-piece from persevering. They're heading to the studio to work on their upcoming full-length debut with DFA 1979's Jesse F. Keeler at the end of the month, but you'll definitely get a preview of their new tunes at Paper Bag's NXNE Friday showcase.

"At one time, we played a show with most of the songs we had, and cuz they're short it ended up only lasting, like, 18 minutes," says Valentine. "Since then, we pretty much have to play everything we've written."

if seeing slash hum along and play air guitar to one of your songs doesn't mean you're doing something right, then what does? Ask the four members of the Mark Inside.

"The last year has been a surreal ride," says guitarist Chris Levoir. His band's been compared to the Strokes and the White Stripes. "We made a video and toured Canada all the way across twice. We got to play some stadium shows opening for Velvet Revolver."

The guys started the band while at Durham Region high school. They formed a mini-community with like-minded bands from Oshawa and Whitby as the Suck My Disc collective.

Collaborating with Weakerthans and Cursed producer Ian Blurton, they've recently finished reworking their first album, Static/Crash, which came out three years ago. Before any new material is recorded, though, they'll play out west this summer.

It's great to see a band on the cusp of bigger and better things who continue to support the scene they helped foster.

"We have talented friends, and you should support them," says Chris, naming other Canadian acts like Anagram, Run Chico Run and the Exchanges.

For the time being, though, they might just have to be content to enjoy their own success.

you may recall london, england-via-Japan mostly girl punk upstarts Mika Bomb as the next big thing of 2000 in the aftermath of their signing to the Beastie Boys' Grand Royal label.

Using the Ramones, the Damned and the Stooges as their guiding lights, they were all primed to obliterate the world with their debut, The Fake Fake Sound Of Mika Bomb.

But then Mike D, MCA and Ad Rock's label folded and the group's members all decided to call it a day. Without blinking an eye, they got right back to the music, resurfacing this year with their most thrashed-out effort yet, Hellcats.

"We sing about things we like, like motorbikes, classic punk rock and beer," group founder Mika Handa exclaims from London, in a rush with the band to make their flight to the U.S. for their month-long Hellcats In Amerika tour. "And also things we hate, like rock stars with big egos."

Which must have been why they decided � beyond being her labelmate on Damaged Goods � to work with UK folk-rocker Holly Golightly, who also collaborated with the White Stripes on their last album.

"She's a really cool, tough chick," says Handa. "When she came in to do her take in the studio, it only took her about 20 minutes."

Now, I don't want to jump the gun, but could Golightly be the missing link in that White Stripes/Mika Bomb collaboration we've all been waiting for?

"No, but we wouldn't mind doing a duet with Iggy Pop and having Phil Spector produce it from prison."

contrary to various rumours that had the Deadly Snakes either vacationing in Tuscany or finishing up their community service obligation along the 401 near Napanee, the Hogtown hooligans have actually been holed up in a log cabin in Lucknow recording their double-album opus, Porcella.

Although the group's new label, Paper Bag, intends to release the record in early September, the Snakes are using Friday's NXNE showcase to preview the new material, which has been called "experimental."

However, songwriter/keyboardist Max Danger, who'll be featured more prominently as a vocalist, insists that it's not quite as avant-garde as some might imagine. So no slapping of raw meat, then?

"A couple of people who've heard the new stuff say it sounds kinda different," says Danger, "but I see it as just another step in the same direction. We wanted to be open to new ideas, so you could call it experimental. On a couple of songs there's a string section, and we're using some different instruments � a bit of toy piano and mellotron � but it's not really that weird, just bigger-sounding."

In the two productive weeks the Snakes spent working at their rural retreat near Lake Huron, they wound up with the bed tracks for 25 songs, 20 of which are slated to appear on the double vinyl LP version of Porcella, while the CD will have just 14.

According to Danger, the title refers back to the recording process.

"I guess the underlying theme is over-indulgence. There are a lot of food references in the songs and the album's artwork. Even though we used more instruments, the overall sound is quieter. The songs are slower. It's a much more mellow record.

"We won't be hiring a string section to tour with us, so we'll have to re-arrange a few things. Friday night's show will be a good test. I'm curious to see how these songs go over."