By Jef With One F
By Rocks Off
By Chris Lane
By Angelica Leicht
By Corey Deiterman
By Angelica Leicht
By Corey Deiterman
Rubbing Doesn't Help
If Rubbing Doesn't Help sounds looser and more scatterbrained than its much-hailed 1994 predecessor, Hot Boxing -- much like a demo -- it could be because Magnapop's second full-lengther is a demo, more or less. After subjecting themselves to the meticulous wiles of underground demigod Bob Mould for Hot Boxing, then barreling across the country on an inhuman touring schedule in support of the release and losing a drummer in the process, this tart coed quartet was ready to relax -- and Geza X (ex-Dead Kennedys, ex-Germs), a Los Angeles linchpin of the '80s hard-core scene, was happy to oblige. But in supplying his cozy home studio and a "what happens, happens" attitude behind the boards, Geza gave Magnapop permission to lull themselves into punk-pop predictability.
Only about a third of Rubbing Doesn't Help's 13-song offering bristles with the sort of angular melodic precision and tender-tough intimacy that made Magnapop's last release such a revelation. The rest barely qualify as backup fodder for the lesser tunes on Hot Boxing. On Rubbing's "An Apology," lead vocalist Linda Hopper sings, "You heard it all from me, complacent and repetitious." That pretty much nails it. Strangely enough, "An Apology," propulsive and disarmingly catchy, is the CD's liveliest track. It must say something about the integrity of a band when the most interesting song on an utterly forgettable release is about forgiveness. What, I'm not sure. (** 1/2) -- Hobart Rowland
Songs in the Key of X
Considering the droves of TV viewers hopelessly zombified by The X-Files, the hit series that revels in all thing paranormal and paranoid, a project such as Songs in the Key of X seems inevitable. Of course, Chris Carter, creator of the TV show and co-executive producer of Songs in the Key of X, doesn't look at this "soundtrack" as simply another tool of greed. In the liner notes, he explains that this is "music inspired by the show as an inspiration for the show." (Did you really expect any other response?)
Still, whatever the intentions behind Key of X, this isn't your average soundtrack. Rather than a collection of hand-me-downs bundled with one hit, this collection features almost all original material written by artists who also happen to be X-Files addicts. Also unlike most soundtracks, which usually feature a poor ratio of good songs to bad songs, this CD has a commendable number of standouts. The best are the Foo Fighters' cover of Gary Newman's "Down in the Park," Meat Puppets' "Unexplained" and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds' "Red Right Hand." The CD could have done without both P.M. Dawn entries, though, and Elvis Costello and Brian Eno's joint effort, the long, dull "My Dark Life," inspires sleep more than anything else.
Not surprisingly, there's a gimmick on Songs in the Key of X. Two secret tunes -- a second Cave entry and a third take on the "X-Files Theme" from Australia's Dirty Three -- are stored before the first song, rather than long after the last song is over. They can be accessed through a process explained on the CD sleeve -- as if die-hard X-Files fans didn't already have enough to gab about on the Internet. (*** 1/2) -- Joe Hon
Hootie and the Blowfish
Whenever I think of Hootie and the Blowfish, the image conjured up is that of my nine-year-old son yelling, "Oh no, not Hootie," as he scrambles to change the radio station before the strummed intro to "Only Wanna Be with You" has a chance to register with anyone else in the car. But I'm a firm believer that every artist, even Hootie, deserves an assessment devoid of preconceived notions. Besides, my kid wasn't available. So here goes.
The new Fairweather Johnson is a just-this-side-of-tolerable collection of nice, unassuming melodies and by-the-numbers songwriting performed by the nicest bunch of average Joes you'd ever want to meet. And therein lies the rub: it's Hootie's averageness that makes the group so easy to dismiss. After playing the CD twice from start to finish, I found it impossible to recall much of anything on Fairweather Johnson, let alone a salient hook or a striking lyric. Granted, any act that sells 13 million copies the first time out can hardly be expected to equal that impact with release number two, but when the best the band can come up with the second time around is "So Strange," an unthreatening, retroish, Hammond-driven rock number that sounds like warmed-over Steve Winwood, it may be time to reevaluate the music industry's definition of trying. (** 1/2) -- Greg Barr
Lonely Weekends: Best of the Sun Years
For the past year or so -- or ever since I figured it out myself -- I've been trying to tell anyone who will listen just how damn cool Charlie Rich really is (or was, now that he's dead). They listen politely, but no one really believes me, because come on, the Silver Fox? Whose megahit "Behind Closed Doors" was crooned at such a high pitch of schmaltz that it instantaneously sealed the man's image in millions of eyes?