Nineteen ninety-nine has been The Year of the Wolf. After disappearing into

the commercial wilderness for several years, Los Lobos have returned with a

flood of material, releasing as much music in the past few months as they

did during the rest of the decade.

In the beginning of 1996, they released their best album, Colossal

Head, then promptly dropped out of sight, spawning rumors of record

company abandonment and imminent break-up. Earlier this year, fans were

pleasantly surprised to see new albums by guitarist Cesar Rosas,

singer-songwriter David Hidalgo's blues project Houndog, and the second

installment of the Latin Playboys, the remarkable combo led by Hidalgo and

percussionist Louie Perez. And now, finally, they've all convened for Los

Lobos' seventh album, This Time.

This Time sounds like an amalgam of the various side projects. It

skillfully combines Rosas' straight-ahead rock leanings with the Latin

Playboys' fractured, funky and avant-garde soundscapes, even adding the low

rumble of the blues. Producers Mitchell Froom and Tchad Blake have mixed

down Los Lobos' sound, giving it a deeper bottom end and heavier guitars

than ever before. It's an odd choice, but it works, adding muscle and bite

to their skewed take on roots rock. "Viking" (RealAudio excerpt) sets corrosive guitars and

fuzzed-out bass against an oddly appropriate horn riff. It sounds like a

heavy-metal biker anthem spiked with Spanish flavor and a pulsing beat.

"High Places" features explosive, intertwining guitar work worthy of

Television. Even slower songs such as "Oh Yeah" (RealAudio excerpt) and the title track bounce

along percolating grooves shot through with dense, funky percussion.

Unfortunately, This Time is marred by terrible lyrics, which is

strange, given the great writing on the latest Latin Playboys album. The lyrics to "Viking" are so off-hand and conversational that they're

swallowed up by the power of the guitars and the driving beat. The words to "Runaway with You" are beyond slight, though the groove shakes your ass faster than your mind can follow. But it's impossible to ignore the abysmal opening lines of "Some Say Some Day": "Who will clothe the children/ when there's no shoes on their feet/ when their stomachs are empty/ but there's nothing left to eat." "Why We Wish" is little more than a string of thoughtless cliches -- "the blind man can finally see, a seed grows up into a tree," etc., etc. The numbing refrain of "High Places" preaches that the higher you are -- you got it -- the harder you fall.

I don't want to harp on this too much, because ultimately This Time is a groove album, a hard-rocking and casually inventive good time. It synthesizes the band's many influences with increasing confidence and ingenuity. On "La Playa" (RealAudio excerpt), Hidalgo croons in Spanish and English over a

disorienting array of gamelan percussion, ambient keyboards and a lo-fi coil

of electric guitar. The song is a mix of traditions, but hardly traditional.

It's a remarkable accomplishment for a band comprised of that rarest breed

of rock musicians who get more experimental and adventurous as they grow

older.