U.X.A.—Illusions Of Grandeur (Posh Boy):: Like the Nuns, U.X.A. are a great zenithof-punk band outta foggy/shmoggy California, more or less (singer De De Troit's name testifies to the potent origins she's continued to draw on, even after being coughed up in fantastic L.A.). and again like the Nuns, the record industry reajly shoulda spent some money on releasing U.X.A. long before now, instead of pouring all those big bucks into 'correcting' Juice Newton's overbite. Anyway, a proud indie label came thru with U.X.A. for us, so help yourself to these speedy, clashing, incredibly angry '77-style punks, complete with the shrill De De Troit vocals that make U.X.A. sound like nouveau-Dead Boys with a sex-changed Stiv Bators (which he may be if he keeps hanging around with Divine) at the helm. Except that U.X.A. are even more morbidly compulsive about clawing away the entrails of their bitterly Catholic souls, lyrically speaking. Not for the faint-eared. R.R.\

STEVE SWALLOW-Home (music to poems by Robert Creeley) (ECM):: Jazz/ poetry collaborations are the stuff of Roger Corman parodies—cool Paul Horn-like flute flutters waft in the background while a fraudulent beatnik intones 'All is art/the rest is graham crackers'—and real life fusions have been only slightly less amusing. But this is different. Creeley's wispy poems are sung by Sheila Jordan and often take up only a few bars ('Christchurch' in toto is 'You didn't think you/could do it but you did/you didn't do it/but you did') of the songs that Swallow has crafted around them. So whatever you think of Creeley's poetry you get long stretches of superior jazz, highlighted by Steve Kuhn's obsessive piano solos and juicier than usual tenor playing by Dave Leibman...and not a graham cracker in sight. R.C.W.