Reviews of two new releases   PJ Harvey Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea Universal/Island   Polly Jean Harvey is a rock auteur once known for inspired, excessive flights of anger and lovesickness. On her 1993 masterpiece, Rid of Me, she ingeniously wailed and shrieked her way through lyrics like "I'll make you lick my injuries." Without exactly lightening up, she's been cutting love and happiness some slack since then. Furthering the affirmative streak tentatively begun on her techno-infused 1998 effort, Is This Desire?, Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea sounds positively celebratory. On the rousing "Big Exit," backed by a driving yet almost sunny barrage of guitars, drums and keyboard, Harvey breaks from declamatory verses to a soaring, falsetto-sung chorus: "Ain't it true / I'm immortal when I'm with you." The lusty and menacing "This Is Love" features Harvey's distorted voice growling, "I can't believe that the axis turns / On suffering when you taste so good." The breakneck rocker "Kamikaze," with its frenzied tale of 10,000-pilot squadrons and eight-mile-high love gods, could be "50 Ft. Queenie II," while the hymnal ballads "Beautiful Feeling" and "Horses in My Dreams" perfect the more spare and atmospheric elements of 1996's Dancehall at Louse Point. Stories' only unequivocally melancholy moment is "This Mess We're In," a doleful duet with Radiohead's Thom Yorke. Harvey's thematic evolution seems to be reaching the denouement of its heartbreak-in-reverse trajectory, but even against Stories' more refined production and relatively light tone, her inimitable lyrical, vocal and musical fortitude stand out. In her peculiarly mysterious, miraculous way, she's able to make hope seem as powerful a force as rage. Christopher McQuain   Spring Heel Jack Disappeared Thirsty Ear Ashley Wales and John Coxon are known for their early dub work, and for producing pop phenomena like Everything but the Girl and Spiritualized. While the duo's sophisticated approach as Spring Heel Jack has resulted in a number of intriguing releases, Disappeared blows away its recent predecessors. Incorporating horns and woodwinds and using elements of jazz, noise, rock and pop, Disappeared rolls with a surprising drive. Ian R. Watson's trumpet and legendary English sax player John Surman's bass clarinet take front and center on various tracks, guiding the whole disc. "Trouble & Luck" makes for an irresistible midtempo electronica number, with its catchy trumpet hook, wall o'drums, sweetly melodic bass line and swooshes of crunchy noises and sci-fi Moog sounds. "Lester" retreats into gorgeously quiet, atmospheric realms of dripping sound, as though Watson's listening to his Ornette records on a massive phonograph in the depths of some fantastic cave with an underground spring. The warmth and dirty guitars of good old-fashioned rock come to play in the driving, repetitive "Bane." But the unique and successful marriage of electronica and avant-garde jazz is most evident on "Disappeared" parts 1 and 2. Here, Surman reaches for unexpected notes atop the moody precision of expertly produced soundscapes for a perfect blend of the melodic and experimental. Tiffany Lee Brown