albums

Rip It Up, Issue 220, 1 December 1995, Page 34

albums

NIRVANA Singles (Geffen) An ironic sign of the unfinished business that was Nirvana is the fact their collected major label singles don’t number enough (at seven) to fill the natty little box they’re presented in here, so two blank pieces of cardboard make up the padding. A booklet would have been more greatly appreciated, and the only supplement of any kind here is the inclusion of the complete words to Nevermind in the liner notes to 'the ‘Lithium’ single. Frilly bits aside, this is a collection that is already standing the test of time in the way only unadulterated genius can. ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ will probably be remembered as the most entirely immaculate major label debut single of the decade, as it also includes the bitter ‘Even in His Youth’ and the infectious ‘Aneurysm’ (credited as a non-album track, although it appeared on Incesticide after its initial release). The familiar before its time (to Killing Joke members and listeners, at least) ‘Come As You Are’ includes live versions of ‘Endless Nameless’ and Bleach’s ‘School’. ‘Heart Shaped Box’ includes the only song Dave Grohl ever wrote for Nirvana — a beautiful number named ‘Marigold’, that turned out to be a fine precursor of things to come. Still, with a single like ‘ln Bloom’, you get to hear the kind of machine gun antics that made Grohl as fine a drummer as he is a one man band.

Hindsight has seen people heap some staggeringly prophetic values on Kurt Cobain’s lyrics of late, so it’s cool to play these singles back to back and remember the times before anyone could take such liberties. While everyone marvels slack jawed that ‘‘he did have a gun”, while listening to ‘Come As You Are’, they manage to miss many of the more subtle turns of phrase beneath the surface, which were the true testament of a damn gifted lyricist who got turned into a regulation T-shirt for the dispossessed. Two of the

most prime examples come from the single that made Nirvana superstars and the single that directly preceded the abrupt end of their reign. ‘A mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,’ the masses screamed along to ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’, probably giggling at the wacky sound such a clever pair of juxtapositions made. The same people thought they were ready to get serious by the time they heard ‘All Apologies’, and the line: ‘Sunburn, freezer burn, choking on the ashes of her enemy.’ But it still proved too deep for them, so they still jump up and down and scream that ‘he did have a gun’, and then they go searching for hidden meanings in their Hole CDs... and their Foo Fighters CDs... That’s why I like staying home, playing these singles and remembering when... And yeah, I do have a gun. BRONWYN TRUDGEON

DEF LEPPARD Vault: Greatest Hits 1980-1995 (Mercury) If any other band in the world balanced more perfectly on that thin line between love and hate than Def Leppard, we 11... I’d be surprised. There’s no grey area with this band; the very reasons why millions love them to death, are the same reasons why millions equally loathe them. Def Leppard’s phenomenal popularity (two of their records are among the Top 10 selling albums of all-time) can be attributed to their unique and unstoppable ability to produce big dumb rock songs, exploding with big dumb melodies, and big dumb lyrics (even in 1992 they could pull from out of nowhere lines like: ‘l’m a man / That’s what I am’, from ‘Make Love Like a Man’). You could quite rightfully argue that Bon Jovi and Poison adopt the same approach, but that couple are quite content to deal in sweeping ballads and theatric epics, whereas Def Leppard take it to another level, and throw everything into the mix- at once, to create passionate, grandiose

extravaganzas. To that end, Vault is undisputable evidence. Essentially a no-frills greatest hits compilation, Vault collects every Def Leppard track you need, should you not already own their albums. Pyromania’s ‘Photograph’ and ‘Rock Of Ages’ hint at the direction future sounds would take, though it wasn’t until four years later in 1987, upon the arrival of Hysteria, that Def Leppard would encounter true superstardom. With the title track, ‘Animal’, ‘Armageddon It’, and in particular the addictive ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’, Def Leppard pushed the ‘rock anthem’ to new dramatic heights, and made a belated entry into over 15 million households worldwide.

Adrenalize, released in 1992, was later to become the band’s most successful album, and it also saw Def Leppard at their most lyrically moronic, attitudedriven best. ‘Let’s Get Rocked’, ‘Heaven Is’, and the aforementioned ‘Make Love Like A Man’, were testament to the hedonistic twinkle in their eye, despite the PC overdose of the early 90s.

Perhaps Vault's single mistake (the fact tracks run in no logical order is not a problem) is the inclusion of a new song, the insufferable ballad, ‘When Love and Hate Collide’. Three years on since the last album, a tune such as that won’t subdue fears their creative spark may have, deserted them. Who knows what the future holds? But for now there’s Vault, courtesy of the only band who could write the following lyric, and get away with it: ‘You got the peaches / I got the cream / Sweet to taste / Saccharine / ’Cause I’m hot / So hot / Sticky sweet / From my head / Down / To my feet / Do you take sugar? / One lump or two?’ JOHN RUSSELL

THE BEATLES Anthology 1 (Apple) Lennon’s brutal assassination in 1980 caused a global trauma (unlike most rock ’n’ roll martyrs, the legend had been created

before his death rather than after), but the legal and personal barriers between the Fab Four prevented a tying together of these loose ends until now.

Anticipated, hyped and due to dominate the next few months, the Beatles may have disintegrated in a flurry of lawsuits in 1970, but they remain the ultimate musical phenomena — maybe because, more than anyone else, they can claim to have invented the form and substance of contemporary popular music,

or maybe because the music was just so damn good. This, the first of three volumes, and accompanied by the inevitable videos, TV shows, box sets, etc., covers the period 1958-1964, and contains the “new" track ‘Free as a Bird’, which has its moments but isn’t gonna change the world, proves George still can’t sing and Jeff Lyne is still a lousy producer. But what really matters is the rest of the package, a feast of rarities, out-takes and live tracks, interspersed, like last year’s BBC album, with interviews. Hardened Beatles fanatics like myself will own much of this stuff on bootlegs, but it’s a joy to hear it so well mastered and cleaned up. The 1958 Quarrymen recording of ‘That’ll Be the Day’ has always been rough as hell on the boots, but here it’s listenable, and actually sounds like the Beatles; the Decca sessions tracks still don’t really cut it (on the strength of these their A&R guy made the right decision); ‘Love Me Do’, with Pete Best on drums, is kinda weird and clumsy (Ringo was a better drummer); ‘Money’ and ‘You Really Got a Hold on Me’ live in Sweden are magnificent vocals from John that surpass the studio versions; the new, old George Harrison track is passable; and the electric version of ‘I Love Her’ is very cool. In between these you get 60 glorious tracks in varying degrees of roughness from the greatest rock ’n’ roll band the world has ever produced. Despite my cynical reservations a month or two ago, essentially this album works, and I can’t wait for the next two, where the really interesting stuff should be. Even Ringo sounds OK. SIMON GRIGG

DAVID BOWIE 1. Outside (BMG) The ‘l’ at the beginning of the title is no misprint, this is the first in a yearly series of records by David Bowie designed to reflect the state of the world in the last years of the millenium.

Ambitious project, but the early signs on Outside suggest that Bowie, reunited with old pal Eno, may have struck a seam of direction almost as lucrative as their past collaborations. To start with, the thin white one has opted back into his favourite niche of futurist role player, a diamond dog of various parts caught amidst the investigation into the ritualistic murder of Baby Grace Blue. Sometimes pretentious, gothic and in questionable taste (the photo of the disembowelled Baby Grace is a bit gratuitous), the scenario has nevertheless given Bowie the opportunity to be imaginative, indulgent and provocative, an opportunity he’s largely taken advantage of. With the songs written from the points of view of various characters, the innocent subject Leon Black emerges with the best songs, largely beacause Bowie invests this character with the poignancy of innocence and naivete. And admidst the industrial clanking and biographical narratives, even scene setters like the impressive opener, ‘Outside’, and ‘I Have Not Been To Oxford Town’ are strong enough to confirm Bowie and Eno haven’t rejected melody in their attempt at recreating nightmare.

So, Outside is undeniably one of the best records in a vintage year, and one of the first Bowie albums in awhile you don’t have to apologise for liking. GEORGE KAY

MICK HARVEY Intoxicated Man (Mute/Liberation) After years of giving all the best bits to other people (Nick Cave, Anita Lane), Mick Harvey finally takes the wheel (“don’t worry, baby, I always drive this fast”) and releases his own album, albeit a one-artist tribute album to the musical work of the late French musician, writer, director, actor, bad boy Serge Gainsbourg. Gainsbourg’s best known song, ‘Je T’aime... Moi Non Plus’, recently appeared as a B-side on an Anita Lane single (a duet with Nick Cave) produced

and played by Harvey, and it was recording that which inspired this album. Harvey resolved to translate Gainsbourg’s songs into English and present them to an audience that would probably be unaware of their existence. Some of the arrangements are recreations of the originals (“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” says Harvey), others are groovy reworkings, with the multi-instru-

mental Harvey playing most of the parts.

Many of Gainsbourg’s songs were written for female singers — Jane Birkin (once his young wife, mother of Charlotte Gainsbourg), Juliette Greco, and Bridget Bardot (the subject of the fab closing track ‘lnitials BB’) — and here the wonderful Anita Lane fills the role superbly, complementing Harvey’s own

sparkling croon. The highlights are many: ‘69 Erotic Year’, ‘Harley Davidson’ (retaining a delicious inflection of English-translated-to-French-and-back ‘on my Harley DavidSon...’ ), ‘Ford Mustang’, ‘New York USA’ (‘oooh, so high’), ‘lnitials BB’, and there’s nary a dud among them. Intoxicated Man introduces most of us to a late great artist, but also a living one too — one who has been too long in the shadow of others. Tres bien. MR J KING

PULP Different Class (Island) Pulp have been going for over a decade with no success, and for good reason — their albums were a little bit duff. But last years His ’n’ Hers saw a vast improvement though it was still a little patchy. But the latest, Different Class, shows Pulp have pulled their socks right up. Pulp have a slighty 80s synth/guitar/violin sound, with ‘Your name is Deborah’ type lyrics and, the best bit, every second song zooming off into a rapturous chorus. Take just one listen to ‘Mis-Shapes’, ‘Common People’, or ‘Disco .2000’, and you’ll think you have died and gone to pop heaven. Pulp write

anthems like the Pet Shop Boys used to write, but now their only competition comes from Phantom of the Opera.

The songs are little tales of floral wall papered, 2.5 kids, headboard banging suburbia — the exact opposite of Suede’s glamorised metaphorical version. Perhaps the quintessential Pulp line comes from ‘I. Spy’: ‘My favourite parks are car parks / Grass is something you smoke / Birds are something you shag / Take your “Year in Provence” and shove it up your ass.’ It’s beautiful Brit-pop done well. Toss your Blur away, Pulp are in a different class — better tunes, better words and better wardrobe. Bloody essential, album of the year stuff. MITCHELL HAWKES

THE AMPS Pacer (4AD) The Amps are, in form, essentially the Breeders minus two (guitarist Kelley Deal and bassist Josephine Wiggs) and plus two (guitarist Nate Farley and bassist Luis Lerma), with two remaining (vocal/guitarist Kim Deal and drummer Jim Macpherson). They sound a lot like the Breeders too. This was originally supposed to be a solo album, and was being touted as a 10-fi version of the Breeders. Kim’s slammed her sweet mark all over it, anyway. After all, it’s that voice, and she’s playing it like a fancy fiddle left, right and centre here — demented caterwauling on ‘Tipp City’, almost growling on

‘Full on Idle’, and pretty harmonies willy nilly. The demanding holiers on ‘Empty Glasses’ set the standard for any potential Amps fan — ‘Where’s the waitress? / Where’s my other shoe?,’ is enough to tell you this ain’t music for wimps who worry about smudging their lipstick when they drink. The cryptic ‘Bragging Party’ (every line a personal mystery only its writer has the key to) is a bass-driven, har-mony-drenched highlight of the album. At the other end of the scale you have the topsy-turvy cow-punk of the aforementioned ‘Full on Idle’. Then there are plenty of songs like the opening ‘Pacer’, that remind you of when Last Splash came out, and you played it all summer long.

Such an uneven tone to the overall package means it takes a little while to work out whether you’re happy sampling everything from top shelf to cellar in one hit, but soon you’ll be so intoxicated it won’t matter. You will see the light — so long as you look above a bar table, not at the sun above the pool. BRONWYN TRUDGEON

BOSS HOG Boss Hog (Geffen) Forget all the surrounding waffle: the ‘sexiest indie band’ tag, the early noise and naked cover albums, the major label deal, and when you get down to it,

Boss Hog have a pretty good album here. Sure, there’s a definite Blues Explosion vibe going down, but Boss Hog avoid that nasty taste of NYC intelligentsia, reinventing the ‘ordinary’ people’s music to much acclaim. (Can I just plug Red Red Meat? — a bunch of guys with dayjobs as machinists in Chicago, who do the punked up blues thing far more effectively than Mr Spencer.) The Hog are just flat out NYC scensters having big fun. The boy/girl trade-off on vocals and guitars really sparks in places, most obviously in ‘I Dig You’, and they throw around some pretty slinky musical ideas without getting over ambitious. Every so often, they really synch

it all up and find a pretty dangerous groove to dwell in — just crank the last track, ‘Sam’, and you’ll get the idea. Live, the whole schtik is really quite impressive, veering from abrasive to seductive without losing that all important feel, and the record does a far better job of capturing that than I’d imagined it would. KIRK GEE

PASSENGERS Original Soundtracks 1 (island)

Eno, of course, has done this sort of thing before. His Music for Films was a collection of pieces evoking cinematic

images while waiting for the appropriate films to arrive. They never did. So he’s tried again and this time L as musical producer/guru to U2, he’s managed to rope in the band to help create these 15 themes for imaginary films. U2 are willing and suspecting passengers, a back seat role they’re probably only too happy to occupy considering the fact these conservative snippets of ambience, atmospherics and aural soundscapes are Eno’s forte. The most successful ‘soundtracks’ occur when Bono slides his restrained vocal drone into the context of ‘Slug’ (director ‘Peter Von Hemeken — I’ll drink to that!) and the sultry

‘Your Blue Room’. But the price of admission is almost justified by ‘Miss Sarajevo’, a beautifully understated ballad lifted to romantic heights by Pavarotti’s volcanic tenor.

The remaining songs are internationally varied to allow Eno the luxury of expressing the exotic, subtle cliches of Japan, South Africa etc. It’s his flight, so Eno fans board now, U2 fanatics in 15 minutes through Gate 1, while the rest of us can listen to music for airports. GEORGE KAY

MADONNA Something To Remember (Warners)

The first time I ever wanted to own a Madonna ballad was during the closing credits of A League of Their Own — however, I suspect part of its impact involved the movie’s sentimentality. The second time was a few weeks ago, when I saw her doing ‘You’ll See’ on Top of the Pops — but then, she did have a lovely new haircut. Typically, Maddy’s appeal is qualified and cross-media.

Something to Remember is a compilation of ballads old and new, and as such presents something of a claim for serious credibility. From the album notes: ‘So much controversy has swirled around my career this past decade that very little attention gets paid to my music.’ Not true, lady, although it is hard to remain attentive for 14 tracks of unrelieved slow stuff. Nonetheless, the voice sounds pretty strong throughout and the productions are mostly interesting (even if not always successful, as on Massive Attack’s dirge-treatment of Marvin Gaye’s ‘I Want You’). Moreover, the most memorable tracks are virtually all originals. And yes, ‘This Used To Be My Playground’ and ‘You’ll See’ still sound good without the videos. Very fetching album sleeve, by the way. PETER THOMSON

PRETENDERS The Isle Of View (WEA) RICKIE LEE JONES Naked Songs (Reprise)

Two ‘unplugged’ sets from two of rock’s finest female singer/songwriters, from whom little has been heard lately. Isle of View was recorded live over

two nights at a London studio, pairs Hynde and band with a string quartet on some tracks (most notably on a superb ‘Kid’), and sees Hynde in fine voice, with many of the songs here eclipsing their original album counterparts. Produced by Stephen Street, this album captures, like no other Pretenders album has, both the longing and belligerence of Hynde’s songs — check out ‘I Hurt You’, or the version of the otherwise overlooked ‘Criminal’ on display here. Naked Songs is just that — Jones on either guitar or piano singing her songs, all of which were recorded on her recent world tour. As the free-form ‘poem’ printed as liner notes suggests, she hasn’t lost her beatnik ways entirely, but her songs always sounded better than they read (although who can forget ‘cunt-finger Louie’, from ‘Living It Up’? — a highlight here). Naked Songs also that much of her work (barring the most recent — Traffic From Paradise) has been over produced, and that her songs have maintained a mythic consistency from the early ‘Weasel and the White Boys Cool’ right through to the recent ‘Stewart’s Coat’. She’s still one of those girls who “listens to records all day in their rooms”, and for that no one can even forgive the disastrous attempt at the Mercer standard ‘Autumn Leaves’ which closes the album. GREG FLEMING

MERRILL BAINBRIDGE The Garden (BMG)

The editor reckoned this one was going to be grubby because the only lines he’d noticed from the hit single ‘Mouth’ were: ‘Would it be so bad if I could turn you 0n?... I want to taste it...,’ all sung by a woman who poses for the sleeve photo in a bird’s nest halo, surrounded by butterflies and vines.

In fact, Merril Bainbridge is no more porno than the Palmers Garden Show. What’s distinctive about her is an occasionally twee voice — a bit like that Frente sheila, but with more depth — and a rather catchy line in melodies (‘Mouth’ isn’t the only, track that could nag you silly). There’s a smart pop sensibility at play here. For example, she

deftly swipes a couple of lines from a nauseating 60s Bee Gees ballad to use as the bridge in ‘Sleeping Dogs’, the sole straight-ahead rock track on the album. Otherwise, the only nonoriginal is a Pet Shop Boys number which she performs with just acoustic guitar backing. Other arrangements are equally intriguing, while decidedly more complex. Despite a few moments which border on the precious, there is much about The Garden to suggest Merril Bainbridge is a fertile new talent. PETER THOMSON COWBOY JUNKIES 200 More Miles (BMG) This double CD set is 20 live tracks from a decade of Cowboy Junkiedom. As a ‘warts and all’ collection, it also works as a wonderfully accomplished and comprehensive ‘best of’. There are plenty of the kind of covers Cowboy Junkies do such justice to, and have all but claimed as their own (‘Me and the Devil’ and ‘Sweet Jane’ being prime examples) by infusing them with the unique brew of gossamer ’n’ blues that is their trademark. The band’s own songs include the instant classic ‘lf You Were the Woman and I Was the Man’,

and the gritty 'Murder, Tonight, in the Trailer Park’. The understated air of these versions allows them to lodge into the subconscious with minimum ease, making this perfect night driving, catnapping, or reading music. The lowest moment is the lengthy spoken intro to “Cause Cheap is How I Feel’, which is a tale about a pigeon shitting in lead vocalist Margo Timmins’ hair. It rambles on long enough to drag you from any reverie you may have blissfully slipped into, even if it is only to work out what the hell she’s muttering about. The uncredited version of ‘Johnny B Goode’ that ends this collection is the only attempt to get dirty and heavy, and it proves why the Junksters usually don’t try to. BRONWYN TRUDGEON WAYNE MASON Between Frames (Raging Goose/Driving Wheel) One of the A-team of New Zealand songwriters finally produces his first solo album. Towards the end of the Warratahs, the writers were dancing to different drums. Wayne Mason was leaning towards the upbeat, with Cajun influences; Barry Saunders favoured the evocative Kiwi bal-

lad. The acoustic pop of Mason’s ‘Tightrope’ is a precursor of this album — and an indication of how good it should have been. The songs are the work of a master craftsman, with verses and choruses full of memorable hooks and melodies, and middle-eights to give them an energy burst halfway. They captivate you, once you get past the production which seems aimed at mainstream rock radio. Until the melodies take hold, the exquisite acoustic ballads (‘Senorita’, ‘No Questions Asked’) get lost inside the engineering. ‘Nature’ and the Warratahs had real character and subtle charm; with more faith in the strength of its songs, this album would have been a Kiwi classic. JAMES BOOKER ALICE IN CHAINS Alice In Chains (Columbia) After listening to Alice In Chains imaginatively titled latest album, the scales fell from my eyes and I was converted. After trying not to like the poor wee buggers for a number of years because of ‘Would’, I decided to let bygones be bygones. The Chains (as they’re possibly called by their fans} certainly don’t do anything very original

(record review cliche #3), but maybe that’s why they’re so lovable. Instead of disappearing off into mindless looped guitars and wacky tunings (S la the kings of toss, Sonic Youth), the Chains just play loud, slow, sad rock songs. The slowness of the songs is the big plus for Alice in Chains. Whilst other bands may be noisier, or grungier, or poppier, the Chains are the slowest. But not only are AIC slow, they’re also kinda heavy in a groovy, melodic way. Standout track: ‘Shame on You.’ KEV LIST

LLOYD COLE Love Story (Mercury) I’ve long felt alone having a soft spot in my heart for Lloyd Cole, with or without his Commotions, and always allowed his releases to lodge themselves quietly, albeit unforgettably, in the walls of this private place. The Eastern twang of his last album still reverberates there to this day, even though I didn’t consider it a favourite on its release. I hope the same thing will happen with this album, but at the moment its being drowned out by my longing for the return of the older, sans Eastern twang style of songs like ‘Lost Weekend’ and ‘No Blue Skies’. I don’t know what’s come

between Lloyd and I, but all of a sudden he seems like a bit of an old man — one need listen no further than the saccharine first track, ‘Trigger Happy’, to reach this conclusion. Nevertheless, the sweetness of his vocals often belies the cutting edge of gems such as (from ‘I Didn’t Know That You Cared’): ‘lf I gave you some petrol would you make yourself useful?’, which means there’s got to be some life left in the silver tongued devil yet. Still, if he can’t sell this album on his own merits, I wager Chris Isaak fans will boost sales when they mistake our Lloyd for their own hero in the cover photo. BRONWYN TRUDGEON

HAMMOND GAMBLE Plugged In and Blue (Scoop De Loop) THE FABULOUS THUNDERBIRDS Roll of the Dice (BMG) CHUCK PROPHET Feast of Hearts (China) THE MAVERICKS Music for All Occasions (MCA)

Local bluesman Hammond Gamble’s first live album is a frustrating affair. Recorded some years back at the Gluepot, it pairs Gamble up with a crack band (including Hello Sailor’s Stuart Pearce on keys), and they let loose in fine style on a number of blues and soul classics — Ray Charles’ ‘Believe to My Soul’ and Sam Cooke’s ‘Bring it on Home to Me’ among them. A few Gamble originals are on show — the finest two tracks of the album being ‘Daylight Robbery’ and ‘Who Did All This to Me’ —

but not nearly enough. His beautiful ballad ‘Stranger’s Girl’ is notable by its absence. Throughout, Gamble sings and plays with real fire, but really, Plugged in and Blue only whets the appetite for new material from one of our most underrated

and, lately, little heard artists. All up, this live outing has the feel of one of the songs on display here — Dylan’s rarely heard ‘Groom’s Still Waiting at the Altar’.

From a bluesman who’s released too few records to a blues band that’s released too many. Roll of the Dice sees the Fabulous Thunderbirds minus Jimmy Vaughan, and much of the excitement and distinctiveness seems to have gone with him. Singer and harp man extraordinaire Kim Wilson does his valiant best, but it’s pretty much by-the-numbers stuff — even resorting mid-album to a cover of ‘Here Comes the Night’.

Ex-Green on Red man Chuck Prophet’s third solo album, Feast of Hearts, is similarly unlikely to win itself a larger audience. It’s fine for what it is (Tom Petty influenced heartland rock), but it often sounds as if he’s got it down too pat, so that despite there being some great songs here (‘Battered and Bruised’, ‘Too Many Angels’ and ‘Longshot Lullaby’ especially), they remain strangely unmoving. Recent solo shows in London have, however, been stunning. A name to keep an eye on. The best left till last? Well, not tonight. The Mavericks’ Music for All Occasions pairs country ballads with jazzier numbers, and it all sounds like it was recorded in 1950 (which means MCA Nashville has spent a whole heap of money on it), as it attempts to balance vintage music and contemporary attitude. They’ll probably fade away quietly, but then, I thought that about kd Lang! GREG FLEMING

DOWN Nola (Warners) On a dark evening in a dark garage a dark collection of shady characters created some demonic grooves inspired by the impetuous imps of smoke and booze. Among this motley collec-

tion of sinister shady characters were various members of metal legends Pantera and Corrosion of Conformity. Now this ginormous all night jam session has been expanded into the very brutal, very dark, and very heavy Nola. On Nola the listener will hear loud Sabbathian and Purplian jam sessions that occassionally turn into songs, and some that sorta stay jam sessions. However, as I’m partial to marmalade, this is all mighty fine; and I’m not alone in finding Nola an awesome work of awesome heaviness — Scott lan from Anthrax loves the metallic heaviness located on Nola, and so should you (providing you’re inclined towards heavy metalliness). KEV LIST

JANE SIBERRY Maria (Reprise)

There’s certainly room to move around in Jane Siberry’s seventh album; in fact, you probably won’t be able to keep still. With the music recorded by a top notch cast of players over three days, and the vocals recorded over Jane’s favourite segments later, Maria has a delectably jazzy spontaneity. Jane’s spirits are often infectiously buoyant, and her sad side comes with a salve of nature that makes even loss seem beautiful.

Divided into two parts, Maria concludes, after a two minute break, with the 20-minute track ‘Oh My My’, where the album’s recurring childlike themes are brought to the fore via excerpts from ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ and ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’. The inclusion of these lines makes for the only snag in an otherwise divinely smooth journey. The angel has come down to earth, but she’s so ethereal I wouldn’t mind betting someone had to tie her to the mic stand to stop her floating off on a wave of the heady atmosphere she’s created. BRONWYN TRUDGEON

MENSWEAR Nuisance (Laurel) So, the Camden clothes-hors-es rush in and record an album. But hang on, aren’t they just an image band? Don’t they need to be called the best new band in Britain first? Nuisance sounds like they were asking themselves these questions over and over. Well, at least for half of the time, for the rest of the album they just got on with being a band and the results are markedly better Opening track is average, then there’s a horrible redone version of ‘l’ll Manage Somehow’ (get the single for the raw sneer). Then there’s ‘Sleeping In’, and there’s no bloody excuse for sounding like the bloody Monkees.

Five tracks in and we’re finally getting somewhere. ‘Daydreamer’, that catchy bastard of a song, still makes me smile when Johnny Dean sings: ‘Breeve deepah, daydreemah.’ ‘Being Brave’ is a successful attempt at the archetypal string section smoothie. ‘Hollywood Girl’ and the new single ‘Stardust’ are both akin to the Supergrass school of rock. But the real highlight is ‘Around You Again’, which really gets the Britpop glands firing — great energy, great melodies and great chorus.

Menswear count the influenced as their influences. They’re a Brit-pop mongrel made up of Pulp, Blur, Supergrass and Suede. And like the super-mod-ern TV on the album cover, if they stand still they’ll be out of date within a couple of months. But Nuisance is entertaining for the time being. JOHN TAITE

NOFX I Hear They Suck Live (Fat Wreck Chords)

Genuine punk bands always sound best when recorded live because then the listener can excuse pie poor production and

fuck-ups — not that anything’s wrong wiv the production on this wee batch of distilled pleghm. NOFX sound like bloody decent chaps who like to have a good time and believe the audience should have a good time also. However, what can be charming and cheeky if heard once can become irritating upon repeated listenings by grumpy, miserable windbag reviewers. Yet, there is a definite market out there for NOFX, and you may very well be in that market. Do you like the Dead Kennedys, but not really their politics? Do you have an impish adolescent sense of humour? Do you enjoy wanking and beer (not at the same time, you might spill some!). If you answered yes to two or more of these questions, go pick up NOFX and pogo till your pants fall off. KEV LIST

VARIOUS ARTISTS Working Class Hero: A Tribute to John Lennon (Hollywood)

The reason I like the sort of tribute albums everyone else loves to hate is you can sing along to the songs without worrying about obscuring the vocal, as it’s almost never as good as the original. Take Blues Traveller’s cover of ‘lmagine’, for example; the reverence with which people always cover this track is well evident here. It’s what ruins the song every time. Faithfulness mainly beats innovation, although Red Hot Chili Peppers open the proceedings well with their take on ‘I Found Out’. My favourite is Flaming Lips’ ‘Nobody Told Me’; as a match of artist and lyrical thematic, it is only equalled by Scott Weilland tearing his lungs out on the Magnificent Bastards’ ‘How Do You Sleep?’ It’s a shame Grant Lee Buffalo aren’t present, given the similarities between Grant Lee Phillips and John Lennon’s voices. Still, there are plenty of takes here that make you swear they have

been included (check Collective Soul’s ‘Jealous Guy’ for just one). I hear another similar tribute album is on the way, so maybe the Buffalos will get their moment in the karaoke sun then.

As a whole, this tribute party gel together pretty well, with the inclusion of Mary Chapin Carpenter (and her namby pamby take on ‘Grow Old With Me’) and George Clinton (doing some majestic ‘Mind Games’) being the only two who really look strange amongst the (dare I say it?) largely grungy company here. BRONWYN TRUDGEON

SHELTER Mantra (Roadrunner) No longer has the devil a monopoly on good heavy tunes. Jah has already been ably represented this year by the sadly defunct Bad Brains, and now the smiling Lord Krishna has had a whole album dedicated to him by the New York punk-metal fourpiece Shelter. Part of the reason lucky Lord Krishna has been blessed by these noisy New Yorkers is the fact that two band members are full time

devotees. However, unlike Krishna’s cooking, Shelter have provided a meaty feast (in a vegetarian way) of catchy sing-along punk, with trad metal/hardcore guitars and spiritually uplifting vocals. The best thing about Mantra is that for the most part carnivorous, atheistic blackguards can find almost as much to enjoy as the spiritually enlightened. The only quuestion left is, can Christianity get in the hardcore ring? Come on chap/esses, let’s see something a little more 90s than Stryper. KEV LIST

CANDLEBOX Lucy (Columbia) Candlebox are without a doubt the kings of the chorus. A song will be smouldering away nicely, and then whoomph, the whole thing explodes into a ginormous chorus. Each track is orchestrated for maximum impact. When Candlebox get everything together, you’d have to have a heart of flint to avoid getting caught up in the emotional whirlpool they create. When Candlebox fail to pull at the heartstrings, the songs can drift off into the nasty world of the extended jam session.

Because Candlebox lack the interesting riffs of a band like Kyuss, the filler tracks litter Lucy like shell holes filled with nasty cliched solos. The annoying thing about Lucy is that when Candelbox unleash their full power-rock fury, they do it very well. Unfortunately, Lucy is not an album of good songs, but rather a few wee gems thrown into some sort of prog rock disaster, and as far as I (and most sensible people, I’m sure) am concerned, prog rock is not the kiddie, no sirree, daddy-o. KEV LIST

VARIOUS Clueless Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (Capitol) Clueless is the noveau cooly comey starring new Betty on the block Alicia Silverstone (who used to visit her grandfather in Titirangi, apparently). The movie is going fully postal all over the world, and there’s a possibility the soundtrack might do the same. Bit of a Griffins biscuit sampler though — some Cameo Cremes, and some sickly iced wafers.

It opens with LA’s the Muffs doing a cover of ‘Kids in

America’ — fun — next. Well, forget Cracker and the blah Counting Crows, and you arrive at Luscious Jackson’s best Dee Lite impersonation in ‘Here (Squirrel Mix)’. World. Party do a great version of ‘All the Young Dudes’, but it’s more due to the great pint-swaying original than them. Radiohead’s Thom Yorke donates the acoustic version of ‘Fake Plastic Trees’, that sounds more beautifully lonely and empty in its bareness. There’s the Beastie Boys punk thrash ‘Mullet Head’ (from the ‘Sure Shot’ single), ‘With My Homies’ is Coolio, with the only rap track here (and a pretty tame one at that) and ‘Alright’, that catchy, brilliant, summer anthem by pop genius’ Supergrass is in here as well. It ends with a girly little number called ‘Supermodel’, by Jill Sobule, like a very poppy That Dog, with this cool line: ‘I wanna be like Tori Spelling and have a car like hers and a dad like hers... I’m not gonna eat today or tomorrow because I wanna be a supermodel.’ And that’s all folks. JOHN TAITE

KREATOR Cause For Conflict (BMG) Upon opening my Kreator CD, a lone rasher of burnt bacon fell out, covered in mystical runes. After much nashings of teeth and grinding of pencils, I have deciphered the secrets to Kreator’s power. Read on if you dare...

• Name band after occult-type figure. Be careful to avoid wimply, girly Greek gods. Try for Middle European demons. • Rely on virtuoso playing (preferably all at once). Do not let the song get in the way of a ridiculously overblown solo. If at all possible, make it a double kick drum extravaganza. • Sing in strangulated voice for 47 minutes, pausing only to slurp down your wolf urine cocktail (for the throat).

• Become a classic metal

band by sounding (at least) five years out of date. • Fill your songs (the bits’in between the silence) with scary words like psychosocial, sadistic, grotesque, abstraction, deformed, necrosexuality, etc., etc. • Lastly, but not leastly, no smiling except when you see the sales figures for your latest magnum opus. KEV LIST

ALICE COOPER Classicks (Epic) Another -compilation of songs by Vincent Furnier’s alter ego, mainly taken from the trio of Trash, Hey Stoopid and Last Temptation. No prizes for guessing which tracks, but the verisons of the Coop’s cool hits of their day (‘School’s Out’, ‘Billion Dollar Babies’, ‘Only Women Bleed’, etc.) are actually live versions recorded for the Trashes the World video. If you already have the aforementioned items, then there’s not much point in getting Classicks, unless you simply must have the previously unreleased blowtorching of Jimi’s ‘Fire’. Nevertheless, it’s an entertaining hour of demented ditties that could go down a treat for Hallowe’en. GEOFF DUNN

ECHOBELLY On (Epic) Where, oh, where did the ego go? Echobelly’s second album, On, is an average follow-up to Everyone's Got One. The two singles for starters: ‘Great Things’ is a saccharine smile about not compromising and knowing what life is, blah, blah, blah; ‘King of the Kerb’ falls short of complete disaster because of the chorus, and of course, with Sonya’s vocals it would be hard to make total mess of it. But apart from the opener, ‘Car Fiction’, and ‘Four Letter Word’ (which sounds like it was lifted from the ego

sessions), the rest of the album is virtually passionless. Where are the ‘Taste of You’s and the likes of ‘Father Ruler King Computer’?

I guess ‘Something Hot in a Cold Country’ is interesting, well, different anyway — with a spot of slide guitar — and ‘Dark Therapy’ is an experiment into the Lush type of will o’ wisp, but overall it’s an unsure album. If you want to hear the emotional highs Echobelly are capable of, then pick up a copy of their debut — it still stands up and sounds a whole lot fresher. JOHN TAITE

RICHIE BLACKMORE’S RAINBOW Stranger In Us All (BMG)

Blackmore has beaten his former colleagues (Deep Purple — twice removed) to the restart line with this eighth studio album from Rainbow; but is it any good? Perhaps surprisingly, yes, although there is the occasional retread of roads already well travelled by the man in black. A third version of ‘l’m Still Sad’ seems unneccessary, but does prove Blackmore’s new young band of unknowns can really play. Singer Doogie White has good range, somewhere between Ronnie James Dio and Joe Lynn Turner (he nearly filled the recent vacancy in Iron Maiden), while drummer John O’Reilly merely plays by numbers, and has already been sacked in favour of the re-recruit-ed Chuck Burgi. Expect the other members to all vanish one by one in typical Blackmore fashion! Anway, the things that make Stranger interesting are a quite startling rendition of Greig’s ‘Hall of the Mountain King’, the different approach of tracks like ‘Hunting Humans' and ‘Ariel’, plus, of course, Blackmore, who dominates the proceedings with delight, and still musters some wicked sounds out of his Stratocaster. No disappointments for the diehards here.

GEOFF DUNN