We were cheerful in 2001, right up until about 8:45 a.m. on 9/11. That's 66 percent of a good year anyway. The shit that transpired from those black moments on has, in retrospect, morphed the first two-thirds of the year into a Shangri-La, the last colorful time before the impending apocalypse. We remember back fondly on January to 9/10, largely because we know now how grim life can be. We also know now how awful life has been for so many cultures who could never take the comfort of their lives for granted. We count ourselves among those cultures at this time, at least for the moment.

Who knows what 2002 will bring? I don't. You probably don't either. I imagine most of you hope to stay alive, unbombed, to live the rest of our lives out the way the good Lord intended. It is a much better choice than to suffer some sort of obliteration, don't you think? History shows time and again that obliteration ain't the best way to go. It is messy and, above all, painful.

A good remedy for that pain, at least in the short term, is music. Often, music can take away the hurt, lessen the pain, bring you to a different place, away from all the harm and hell. Often, too, music can bring you closer to your hurt, so you can work through the pain, get through the grief. Many of you know that running away from grief and hurt feelings only makes the pain linger. If you encounter it face to face, in time you can stare it down and send it scurrying. Great songs can do a lot. Just ask Kurt Cobain.

So, despite the fact the world stopped turning there for a while, there still exists reasons to be cheerful, at least in terms of our humble little lives in the southeastern New England music scene. There were so many terrific records that came out, so many promising performers popping up like bubbles, that it's really hard not to see a future light and future stars beaming down in our direction.

Here are some really good records that saw the light in 2001.

Ava, Super Girl. Sexy supergirl Ava Schlink derives her inspiration from old school soul, which makes her the first-ever white brunette to do so successfully.

Bob's Day Off, Precious. Can the Fall River-based winners of the Rock Hunt take advantage of their newfound glory? More importantly, will it get them groupies?

The Cautions. The cheeky power pop gang has a Berklee pedigree, but will all that fancy book-learnin' earn them a career in making music?

Comic Book Super Heroes. The Merida brothers and company made huge leaps from their debut to their second effort, but family affairs are perilous prospects. Remember Menudo?

Delphine, We're Sleeping Better Now (Wishing Tree). Todd Belcher relies heavily on the patience of his listeners to derive the full essence of his lovely, Nirvana-on-codeine outfit Delphine. Indeed, beauty is in the ear of the beholder.

Donnybrook, Bleeding the Grain. And speaking of beauty, this ain't anywhere near it. It's large, spastic, aggressive ranting that gets lots of attention, kind of like a meeting of the assembly at the State House.

Kristin Hersh, Sunny Border Blue (4AD). The fact that this quiet release enjoyed little fanfare doesn't make it any less formidable. After over 15 years of writing, she is still our collective pop heroine.

The Jim James Band, Silent Film (Your Crazy Mother). The JJB surprised us all and rode the Hunt to the semis on a solid but comfortable bed of jamming exploration and dark intrigue. Will the new year bring new surprises?

Medicine Ball, Fresh Ape (Rubric). Being in Medicine Ball allows you to a) develop a keen sense of patience, b) work on songs for so long they change completely, and c) enjoy being in a rock band without the nasty aftertaste.

Mark Mulcahy, Smilesunset (Mezzotint). Quiet and quirky, quickwitted and (another "q" word here), Mulcahy court-jester folk is enrapturing. Miles ahead, thankfully, of his rather pedestrian basketball game.

Overflower, Water on Mars (Aire). Vaguely psychedelic, these pretty pastoral pop odes sprung from the fecund imaginations of the Bouchards and the Orsis, begging the question, will this year bring still another good growing season?

The Panic Band, Live at the Ladies Humane Society (Apocabilly). Part of the PB manifesto states: "The Panic musicians must continually enlarge and enrich the field of sounds." These cats take their clowning around pretty seriously.

Slugworth, Elevate. Post-grunge acolytes prove they can write good verses and great choruses, but can they choose the right bridge that leads to a label deal?

State of Corruption, The Great Hype Agenda. Together going on eight years, the humbug hybrid rap-rock thing sounds good in the hands of King Mike and the boys. Now if they could only find a shortcut outta Providence.

Jon Tierney and the Truth, In the Days When We Were Kids. The full-time musician and part-time deli guy is searching for the perfect combination of meat-and-tomatoes combination of folkie sincerity and gruff style.

We'd like to thank all of the artists who made records this year, that slaved in the studio to answer your inner artistic demons and begin your quest for world domination. It is you who make this scene, who give Providence and Rhode Island a musical identity. Few outside the business know what an awesome undertaking it is to see a record through from a few hummable melodies to a shrinkwrapped jewel box. It's a bitch. And for many, that bitch amounts to nothing more than a labor of love. So if you get a chance, try and find the time to appreciate your accomplishments, respect the fact that you've held on to a band, your music, a dream in a difficult, often bitterly unwelcoming climate. I can't guarantee that you'll be rewarded for your perseverance, but sometimes perseverance is its own reward. Happy New Year.

E-mail me with music news at b_gulla@yahoo.com b_gulla@yahoo.com.

Issue Date: December 28, 2001 - January 3, 2002