I read somewhere, and tend to believe as true, that there exists in music criticism a two- tier model through which all artists are judged. The first pool of artists, either newcomers rewarded for the ingenuity inherent in merely possessing a new voice on the scene-- or elders of whom we've learned to expect little more-- tend to be judged on the merits of their output's strongest songs alone. A newcomer finding success under the lower tier, one who establishes the kind of expectations that ride the back of credibility, may find him or herself flung into the second pool, where output is judged solely on its worst moments. Simply put, reviewers, and fans in general, apply the bias of our expectations on artists. Is this fair? Perhaps not, but considering the artist is asking us to buy a second, third, or twelfth album, I suppose we deserve a good old- fashioned reason why.

Ben Harper once resided among the neophytes of the first pool. An eclectic writer and musician, Harper was blessed with many crowns upon the release of his debut, the dour Welcome to the Cruel World. On the album's best tracks, he seemed rock's social conscience and the heir apparent to the fusion of soul, funk and rock championed by the likes of Jimi Hendrix and Bob Marley. We easily ignored the album's less successful moments, and rightfully so. Fight for Your Mind followed and found Harper expanding his already substantial range (the album's two best songs, "Ground On Down" and "Burn One Down" are among the best funk and reggae this decade has produced) and building on the foundation of his first release. However, the album retained some of the first's miscues, in particular, the slow- plodding ballads that seem to be a motif for the young Californian.

Will to Live was, in some respects, a relief, and in others, more troublesome. Harper seemed to hone his vision, and in doing so mitigated some of the previous albums' lows. He turned towards a more straight- forward rock sound, mirroring Lenny Kravitz's shift towards center after Let Love Rule. While this transformation helped Harper produce perhaps his most consistent work to date, it also rendered the album a bit bland. Harper's eclectic vision had all but disappeared, and the album enjoyed few great revelations. That the album disappointed was perhaps the first sign that Harper had graduated into the second tier of artists-- the ones who carry our expectations as their burden.

If so, then Burn to Shine may be an equally telling sign that he's not quite ready. Harper continues the trends formed on Will to Live, moving further toward simple classic rock songs and away from the hints of emotional complexity that brought him his best achievements. Though the ragtime jaunt "Suzie Blue" is a feign (and an unwelcome one at that), Harper plays a plainer hand here. The album's first three tracks are exasperatingly mediocre by his standards, and although his Robert Plant imitation on "The Woman in You" saves the song, the repetition of its chorus ad nauseam begins a trend that often isn't graced with similar rescue throughout the remainder of the album. "Less," on the other hand, is a stab at heavy metal, which is all the further I choose to comment on it.

But once again, Ben Harper manages to string together moments of brilliance. The trio formed by the warm- hearted raga "Steal My Kisses," the rockin' title cut, and the soulful "Show Me a Little Shame," are the strength of the album, and more or less carry the listener through its less- than- spectacular remainder. For better or worse, these finer moments set a higher standard for Harper. And this being the guy's fourth album, we really need more than a few great songs to make it worth the cash. Harper is an electric performer and his risky but blistering live cover of Hendrix's "Voodoo Chile" hints at his rightful place among today's rock musicians. Unfortunately, Burn to Shine fails to put him there.

-Neil Lieberman