COMEDY
Various Artists
The Classic National Lampoon Box Set
(Uproar Entertainment)

This four-disc collection of National Lampoon albums from the 1970s and early 1980s (including That's Not Funny, That's Sick; The National Lampoon White Album and Sex, Drugs, Rock'n'Roll and the End of the World) is one more attempt to resurrect the Lampoon franchise for the 21st century. The unfunny trucker-song parody album Rules of the Road was released two years ago, and there's a Lampoon send-up of TV poker programs in the works — as you might have guessed, this version features strip poker.

Despite the good intentions, Lampoon's moment has passed. Most of the once-outrageous skits here wouldn't shock contemporary audiences accustomed to Howard Stern and The Aristocrats. (If, on the other hand, you've been longing to hear Richard Belzer quip about prison rape, this set is a godsend.) They've saved the best for last, though, as the Greatest Hits disc preserves the funniest bits from the vintage Lampoon era. "Pizza Man" perfectly nails the early-'60s "Leader of the Pack" genre of teen death pop songs, and "Deteriorata" demolishes hippie philosophy ("You are a fluke of the universe, you have no right to be here, and whether you can hear it or not, the universe is laughing behind your back"). Recognizable voices include Gilda Radner, Chevy Chase and Christopher Guest (as Bob Dylan on "Those Fabulous Sixties," and as a middle-class folkie singing "Well-Intentioned Blues," about 30 years before A Mighty Wind).

While the 1996 box set of the Lampoon's Radio Hour programs (Buy This Box or We'll Shoot This Dog) was professionally presented, this set is decidedly less slick. There aren't any old or new liner notes, nor a list of which performers did which sketches. More laziness: three of the Greatest Hits bits already appear on the other albums in the set. The Lampoon folks would have been better off simply re-releasing the first Lampoon albums (Radio Dinner, Lemmings and Gold Turkey) instead of the later, lamer material. The Classic National Lampoon recreates the original magazine all too precisely — in order to get to the funny stuff, you have to wade through an awful lot of dreck.
—A.D. Amorosi

ROCK/POP
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
(self-released)
Let's say nice things about Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. We'll have to hate them soon. The itchy Williamsburg-based band and its tweaked ex-Philadelphian singer Alec Ounsworth have it coming. You'll probably read that Bowie's named them his favorite new band. But Bowie really liked the loathsome Polyphonic Spree. You'll realize calling them a "Talking Heads mixed with" band isn't always a compliment. You'll remember that Ounsworth fucked your sister and owes her money. Before that dark day comes, marvel at this, their self-released eponymous CD and the inspired Yorke/Byrne babble Ounsworth grafts onto the whining guitars, hooky bass and skiffling drums of "The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth." Or how he wearily relaxes his jaw, Alexander Technique-style, and takes to the loopy bass of "Over and Over Again (Lost and Found)." Or the way Clap Your Hands manages to make Antarctic-cold synths melt from the warm joviality they convey on the hip-shimmying "Let the Cool Goddess Rust Away." And there's a lot of tambourine shaking throughout their arrangements of noodling, twitchy guitars and finger-snapping bass. These are the innocent days, when the band is fresh and young and playing Philly every damn week. Just enjoy it. The hate comes later on.
—Andrew Milner
Alec Ounsworth of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah plays Sat., Aug. 20, 8 p.m., $7, with The Teeth, Mitch Fiction and The Nethers, The North Star, 27th and Poplar sts., 215-684-0808, www.northstarbar.com.