Loveless undoubtedly already counts as the most influential record of the 1990s. But as many bands that have taken upon Kevin Shield's discarded mantle of miasma, literally none have ever come close to replicating the artistic triumph of that record. Not surprising, since the album easily transcended the genre it birthed; Shields had an instinctual grasp on the full spectrum of the prior three decades of pop music, and the result stands tall in the lineage of great record production, from Spector to Wilson to Eno. That he constructed his opus out of layered guitars and effects pedals is a mere footnote to the brilliance of what he achieved.

But it's the hypnotic power of stringing together huge amounts of reverb, distortion and delay, hitting a chord, and letting it ring for two hours that imitators have stripped away from the Loveless experience. The result of all this blissful trancing is generally loathsome, self-indulgent non-music, and believe me, I speak as a reformed practitioner. The past decade witnessed such a glut of bands indoctrinated in this approach that it's become nearly impossible to take further attempts seriously. Ultimately, it's going to be difficult for a band to distinguish themselves when their biggest influences are Boss, Digitech, and Alesis.

Sianspheric play dreamy, hypnotic, atmospheric pop, with layers upon layers of feedback over simple, repetitive melodies. If you don't already own 50 other records that sound like this, you might find There's Always Someplace You'd Rather Be a reasonably satisfying listen. It's actually hard to fault this band too much on any specific point, because taken completely on their merits, they're pretty good; indeed, both dreamy and hypnotic. The problem, of course, lies with their conscious run-through of post MBV-shoegazing cliches. The record's opener, "All on Standby," begins with two minutes of buzzing white noise, which slowly begins to rise and fall in intensity before the rhythm section crashes in for the Bardo Pond-like drone of "Rave On, Full On." It's followed by the upbeat "I'm Feeling Better," which could serve as some reasonably good, skewered guitar-pop were it not buried under a sheetrock wall of hiss.

This opening sequence is nearly identical to Shot Forth Self Living, the debut album by a now-defunct L.A. shoegazer group called Medicine. (Remember?) They tried like hell to meld abrasive guitar textures with outright bubblegum, and with mixed results. Even a piano contribution from the legendary Beach Boys Smile collaborator and solo artist, Van Dyke Parks, couldn't save them from unlistenability.

The similarities of Sianspheric to Medicine are many, especially in that their vision never fully gels. But they've got other sounds, too: the midpoint of the record cops Flying Saucer Attack's old formula of tidal reverb washing over subtle acoustic pluckings. Later, they really stretch the boundaries by crafting would-be Slowdive outtakes. But as rife as There's Always Someplace You'd Rather Be is with cliché, it's never short of being at least moderately enjoyable.

In truth, a 6.2 is the most middling rating I can give it, since I've spent the last ten years gorging myself on every second-rate shoegazer record that sees release. So, for those of you just getting into this kind of stuff, add a couple of points-- you'll probably be into it. If you're sick of this drony nonsense and find unoriginality to be the greatest committable crime, subtract five.

-D. Erik Kempke