It’s an easy guess that Men Without Hats had no intention of being prophetic with their “Pop Goes the World” single. Intentions aside, there is no longer shame coupled with the condition of existing as a pop band. It’s about time, too, what with things getting dark and people telling listeners over and over again about how much the world sucks. As if there was anyone who had no clue that life was never easy (oh, but there are!).

As timely as pop music itself comes Moonpools and Caterpillars brandishing a Lucky Dumpling. As a pop band, Moonpools doesn’t ride a complex emotional roller coaster. Instead, the group is propped on a simple see-saw with as much fervor as the “gang” you ran with in kindergarten.

“Hear,” the first single, is only a taste of what they throw out. The group can do deep and drifting songs like “Sunday” and “Ren” just as easily as they can infect you from the grasshopper-like beginning of “Hear.” Vocalist Kimi Ward Encarnacion not only whispers and belts, but also throws a little “Low Rider” sample into “Summertime” via harmonica.

Moonpools and Caterpillars gets rambunctious again on “Koo Koo Koo,” which bounces like the same, aforementioned bunch of kindergartners after Kool-Aid, cookies and too many Pixie Stix. Despite rarely hinting at similarities to other groups, (Sun 60, The Sundays) M and C always comes through, refusing to be copycatters. Listen, enjoy, but if you’re not careful, you’ll get a four square ball in the face.

Another musical style that seems to be on the rise is “Roots Rock” or “Americana”: aka “Rockabilly.” One of the latest of such groups to churn out product is Chapel Hill, N.C.’s Southern Culture on the Skids. As one can tell from their latest, Dirt Track Date, this isn’t exactly rockabilly … la Stray Cats. Remove all you know about greasers and the fifties, and take the music back to foot-stompin’ sessions in a Southern juke-joint (or on a porch), and you’ll be a little closer.

SCOTS seems to take rockabilly directly from its roots and adds in a little trailer-park campiness for effect. The result is sometimes humorous and always catchy. Think big grins, souped-up ’52 Chevies, Little Debbie Oatmeal Pies, baseball caps, boots and a girlfriend with absolutely HUGE hair — and then you’re there. Twangy guitar, dumpy bass and snare-anchored drums make the atmosphere complete.

The album as a whole isn’t exactly brain food, but guess what? It doesn’t have to be. It’s not supposed to be. It’s a nitty gritty album influenced by times when there was no such thing as a guitar solo. The drums, bass and guitar all bounce to the same rhythm making every track catchy as hell for some irresistible booty shaking. One good example is “Whole Lotta Things,” which is a quick, heavy shuffle about simple pleasures.

“Skullbucket,” one of the instrumentals, is like Pulp Fiction in the desert with only the “driving and thinking” scenes running. Other times, guitarist/vocalist Rick Miller can be found telling tales of a trip to a fast-food chicken place (“8 Piece Box”), or engaging in a one-sided argument with a fly in “Greenback Fly.” If you’re ready to let loose and learn about other ways to rock, let Southern Culture on the Skids take you out for a chicken-and-biscuit dinner. Maybe instead of dinner, you’re ready for some sex. That’s Sex, an offering from Australia’s The Necks (you filthy weasel!). Is it a single? Is it an album? Neither, actually.

It’s the name of a one-hour improvisation session that these three musicians did in the studio. Perhaps it was dubbed Sex for that special feeling you get from having a jam session that just clicked like good karma. Perhaps it was dubbed Sex for the multitude of musical positions the band takes as they jazz their way through this body of music. Throughout its length, Sex evolves from one movement to another. The transitions are so smooth and subtle that you usually notice the different by comparing the song to how you heard it five minutes before. Sex flows, curves and slinks its way over satin beats, bass and keys.

A friend of mine asked, “If this is Sex, where’s the orgasm?” I was wondering the same thing. Afterward, it was decided that if you were looking for the physical one instead of the metaphysical one, you’re just another dissatisfied love ’em and leave ’em superhoe.

Damn, and I thought I was special!