Sporty rappers and hell's house band are on tap in this month's roundup of local discs:

The Day After ..., "A Different Way to Get By" (Gotham Records): "Are you still breathing?" The Day After... singer/guitarist Jenine Cali asks early on her band's latest disc, and it's a fair question, as this bunch does its best to suck all the air out of your lungs with its breathless, bipolar pop.

Equal parts melancholy and resolve, "A Different Way to Get By" is awash in moody rock colored by driving guitars, big, bright basslines and well-textured synth that lend the band's tunes some added depth. Cali mostly sings about being drunk on her feelings, and it's a buzz you'll want to catch.

Spoatymac, "Spoaty Life" (Heat City Records/Seven Records): This disc comes emblazoned with the image of a giant golf ball to illustrate a key point: This MC is more playful than punchy. "Around here, we tend to get ridiculous," Spoatymac announces on "Sticc-N-Move," and he even samples Bobby McFerrin's "Don't Worry, Be Happy" on "Tricc Daddy."

A fleet-tongued rapper with a clear, confident flow, Spoaty Mac boasts of "bringin' the sting like Listerine" over a bright backdrop of snaking beats and big, burping basslines.

Through it all, Spoaty avoids most gangsta rap tropes -- "Lovin' money is weak" he announces on "Change Da Game" -- while still comin' with a sound hard-hitting enough to bruise the roughnecks.

Melancholics, "Happy Ones" (ScrumptDillyDiscs): The Melancholics' breezy funk sounds like the soundtrack to one of those sunny Corona beer commercials, a lilting, likable set of acoustic rock jams with touches of steel-drums, wah-wah guitar and rubbery basslines.

Yeah, frontman Jayme Jack's lyrics occasionally sound as if they were cribbed from a Hallmark card -- "Being human is making mistakes and taking chances, and loving someone is the greatest testament" -- but this band's summery grooves will warm your mood regardless.

The Vermin, "A Fist Full of Hell" (Wood Shampoo): A sweaty, ill-willed collection of gritty rippers nastier than the bathrooms at the Double Down, this best-of from the Vermin insults your mom and then hits on your sister. Fond of punk rock at its most devolved and primitive, the Vermin blast out hooky odes to loose women, hard livin' and the devil.

Still, this bunch can play, as evidenced by Dirk Vermin's fleet soloing and an ace rhythm section of bassist Rob Ruckus and drummer Turbo Proctor, who navigate everything from drunken rockabilly to surf jams to Judas Priest covers. It's a debauched ride, and you can almost hear these dudes' livers weep as this thing proceeds.

Jason Bracelin's "Sounding Off" column appears on Tuesdays. Contact him at 383-0476 or e-mail him at jbracelin@ >reviewjournal.com