You like space rock. You really go for that astral blend of wailing guitar and sinuous synthesizer. Good space rock gives substance to the void that separates planets, it bridges interstellar distances with its cosmic sensibilities.

Here are a few you might enjoy.

Oceans of swimming synthesizers lull you into an outburst of shrill guitar pyrotechnics, supported by demanding and thunderous drums and sultry basslines. There is often quite a grandeur to the flowing electronics, from the bubbling chirps to the swirling aerial gymnastics to the unmistakable firing-up of FTL spaceship drives. Rhythm guitars crash in overlapping waves, pounding their sparkling riffs into your backbrain. Organic lyrics swap with sampled snippets, but the music is generally undisturbed by vocal content. No deficiency there, for the tuneage is quite stunning and dramatic, whether pursuing ambient muses or power chord assaults. These are breath-taking auralscapes, abounding with numerous teeth and saturated with ample passion.

Many of the songs are structured with atmospheric lead-ins, building to incandescent explosions of space rock brilliance. This is hot tuneage, burning like a stellar core. There are as many clever breaks and savage hooks in this music as there are stars in the heavens. The mysterious lure of the dark void is ever apparent in these songs.

This is definitely one of the most satisfying space rock releases to come along in years.

Contrary to the impression gathered from this release's title, Mooch's sound is hardly "acid metal" -- no, definitely not. This music is reasonably ambient, quite spacey, and wholly impressive. Weaving electronic multi-textures with dense undercurrents, Mooch delivers a solid hypnotic ratio with a sneaky quotient of drama.

Atmospheric electronics generate a misty panorama for intertwining outbursts of bubbling and sweeping synthesizers. Mix in some distant electric guitar, attributing a fiery tone to the mood. Then add a mild tempo of ethnic percussives, lending it all a very odd edge that evokes astral realms instead of exotic lands. But not each track displays an absolute calm, for some of this tuneage is surging with abstract power. The track "Acid Drenched Symphony" is like cyclic electronics meets fusion jazz.

Of the four tracks on this 71-minute CD, three average about 20 minutes long, affording each piece more than enough duration to unfurl and expansively drift through regions of cosmic consciousness.

Fresh from writing instrumental music for a video/film production company in Ohio, guitarist Vic Samalot and keyboardist Bobbi Holt formed Rare Blend and released this 1994 debut CD of powerful space rock.

The music on this 34-minute CD is quite diverse, fusing elements of jazz, fusion and rock to produce a lively form of space rock that is entertainingly unpredictable. Compressed into compositions averaging four minutes, this tuneage is sharp and delectable, delivering high-energy riffs with engaging melodies.

With this 2000 release, Rare Blend's personnel expand to include bassist Jeffrey Scott and drummer Paul Stranahan, infusing Vic Samalot's searing guitar and Bobbi Holt's cooking keyboards with an increase of power to an already busy soundscape of powerful instrumental space rock.

The guitar soars with blazing passion, straying close to Joe Satriani brilliance. The keyboards swirl like a maelstrom of diamonds, driving with progressive enthusiasm and astral sparkle. The bass fumes with a jazz club smoothness, thundering a sinuous foundation for the fiery songs. The drums explode with impressive impacts, resounding overtly and with maximum drive, creating enticing yet demonstrative rhythms.

For this 47-minute CD, Rare Blend have achieved an ensemble sound, with each instrument contributing equally to the surging tuneage. Throughout the nine tracks, there is evidence of prog-rock, Latin pop, eclectic improvs and fusion jams. This music goes far beyond any blend of jazz and rock, playfully generating instrumental songs of vigor and vivacity.

Savage guitar, pounding drums, swirling keyboards, growling bass and raucous vocals (and various vocal samples) comprise the sonic roster (with ex-Gong member Graham Clark on violin and additional guitar on the live and studio tracks from 1998). Screaming guitars spiral into the darkened firmament, while liquid electronics immerse the audience. Basslines rumble in the mix, generating a foundation for the energetic percussion.