What was once slacker alt-rock is now classic rock for another generation, the one that Pavement used to court before they went away. Carol Van Dyk and her bandmates never went away (though it felt like they’d disappeared for a time), but they did move on; this live album (and DVD) has them revamping crowd favorites like "Brain-Tag" and "Kid’s Alright"–the songs that people remembered from the only albums they ever bought by these Dutch popsters. They’re still powerful, still bittersweet, and at their best still have magic in their inchoate, overt Crazy Horse ramblings ("Certainlie").

Friday: Steve Goodman, Live at the Earl of Old Town, Red Pyjamas.

A folkie cult artist just the way we like them–too self-deprecating to ever hit the big time, amiable, kind of a softy, and long dead of a tragic illness (leukemia). This unearthed live set highlights Goodman’s strengths (great rapport with an audience, strong songwriting) but also his weaknesses (thin voice, general goofiness). Hey, he was an entertainer as much as a tunesmith, so keep in mind that if his baseball fixation ("When the Cubs Go Marching In") doesn’t hold up through multiple listenings. It wasn’t meant to, but the jaunty version of his own "City of New Orleans" does. Plus, there’s "What Have You Done For Me Lately" and an off-the-cuff version of "Rockin’ Robin" that proves the self-proclaimed "Cool Hand Leuk" had balls of steel.

Saturday: Keating, Still, But Not Stopped, Independent.

Not much to say here–local foursome happily working the mainstream generic radio rock salt mines, hoping to catch a break.

Sunday: Alice Smith, For Lovers, Dreamers & Me, BBQ Records.

Anyone who quotes Kermit the Frog for the album title is jake by me; too bad this smooth (but never banal) R&B/soul singer didn’t get around to actually covering "Rainbow Connection" as well.

Monday: John Lithgow, The Sunny Side of the Street, Razor & Tie.

The third Lithgow kids album (just mull that over in your head for a while), this time with the veteran character actor essaying Jimmy Durante’s "Inka Dinka Do," standards "Getting to Know You," "You’ve Gotta Have Pep," weird-ass originals like "I’m a Manatee." Strange in a good way, plus excellent advice for horticulturalists everywhere: "Always say bonjour to a lilac/Bonjour bonjour bonjour" ("I Always Say Hello To A Flower").

Tuesday: Scritti Politti, White Bread Black Beer, Nonesuch.

50-year-old Green Gartside is like the perennial grad student that never grew up: still impossibly in love–with girls ("Window Wide Open"), his own mythology ("Road to No Regret"), the rebel stance ("After Six"). This would be a fairly sketchy enterprise, except he still has that disconcertingly helium-light voice, an unending supply of pop hooks, and an itchy finger for a well-turned phrase: "I’ve been in the marketplace since last July, coming with the force of illocution" ("Petrococadollar").

Wednesday: The Airfields, Laneways, Humblebee.

Not bad–the jangle of ’80s college rock, a speedy rhythm section, the pose of disillusionment and ennui ("Lonely Halls," "Tracks in the Snow"). Belle & Sebastian on a coffee jag after listening to too much post-punk.