Described by the former Grant Lee Buffalo ringmaster as a "record for strange times," Strangelet packs a deft emotional wallop, delving deep into the inner confl agrations of the soul ("Runaway") and the outer combativeness of human nature ("Chain Lightnin'"), while at the same time reveling in the troubled essence of rock and roll ("Johnny Guitar"). All in all, it's a massive amount of beautifully strange energy crammed into the confi nes of a compact disc. If the end of everything as we know it doesn't sound all that "nice" to you, perhaps you're unaware of Grant-Lee Phillips' lyrical knack for divining light from the darkness, extracting motivation from misery, and embracing the general life-affi rming optimism that when one door closes, another inevitably opens. His cathartic, negative-to-positive alchemy works in subtle measure throughout the unfolding of Strangelet's twelve tracks, smoothly blending tales of heartache, confl ict, and loss with stories of love, hope, and redemption. It's a work that's essentially grounded in the concept of confronting reality, relinquishing fear of the unknown, and refusing to be destroyed by things you can't see, things you can't control, and things that may not even exist. A man of many proverbial hats indeed, Phillips incorporated any instrument within his reach during the course of recording - guitars, bass, piano, organ, baritone ukulele, the list goes on and on. It would be remiss not to relate a bit of his resume at this point, so let it be said that he's an accomplished visual artist, a seasoned composer for fi lm and television, a magician, a poet, and a former roof-tarrer, as well as a crack actor - often seen serenading the streets of Stars Hollow in his recurring role as The Town Troubadour on The Gilmore Girls. But, back to the subject at hand, it's simply Phillips' longtime status as a diehard, passionate fan of high-octane rock and roll that fuels the engagingly eclectic sounds of Strangelet. Arriving on the heels of nineteeneighties, Phillips' cover-versions-only ode to some of his favorite acts of said decade, the new record continues to deliver nods to many of the artists who have inspired him, though this time in a much more subtle and far-reaching manner. Take a dash of hypnotic Sonic Youth and a pinch of ragged X, then blend it with a dose of John Lennon's plaintive honesty and a touch of Neil Young's twisted Americana. Add a sprinkle of soaring U2