Now that Dubya's ham-fisted approach to dealing with nuclear powers has put the entire free world into jeopardy of atomic annihilation, I worry more about the future. Science tells us that after the inevitable nuclear war that results from this frat boy attitude toward diplomacy wipes out 99% of life on the planet, the only lifeforms to survive will be cockroaches and singer/songwriters.

Exhuming their green-glowing, Geiger guitars from the ashes of civilization, crafting makeshift recording devices from cannibalized PDAs, they'll claim the post-apocalyptic earth as their own. Nothing will stand in their way. The world will be repopulated by those who feel compelled to compose, record and perform the way roaches have a similar instinctual compulsion to reproduce, scurry about and get in the teacups. Dismal, yes.

Super XX Man (aka Silver Scooter's Scott Garred), has been at this intimate, documentary songwriting project since 1994, when he began releasing a string of volumes. One gets the sense that nothing less than an atomic bomb would have a shot at stifling him. Super XX Man can't really be called a side project, though, since Garred started putting his thoughts and feelings down on tape with the regularity of a core dump before starting his more well-known band.

Musically, there's not much to this threadbare arrangement on Volume V. It's thirteen tracks of guitar-based folk-pop with a drum machine and occasional ukulele here or odd synth there. With so few ingredients to work with, it's a shame that his voice isn't a bit stronger or more distinctive. While certainly capable of carrying a tune, Garred has a sort of plaintive Everyman thing going on with his vox. I guess you could call that an asset. I don't.

After a boring start that serves mainly as a primer for what to expect-- warm, simple strums, a programmed rhythm, and enough introspection to choke a therapist-- "You Dream Fast" follows early and is the easily the strongest contender on Volume V. Half-creepy lyrics ("these are the things that fly out of me in the nighttime") are delivered with a sunny pop sensibility. A less-straightforward touch on the drum-bot really gives the song a bouncy pomp. It's over far too soon, though, and the disc is never again this successful with its album-long attempt at personal poetry and evocative melody. I hope for Super XX Woman's sake that Super XX Man doesn't peak this early in everything he does.

Two songs later, "Lonely Old Night" displays a tenderness that's found in Neil Young's (one of Garred's influences) Harvest Moon-era releases. The only song with backup vocals, the lyrics are plain and homely, but sturdy. But by the time the next track, "All Night Diners," begins, a weariness overcomes the listener, and the downward slide begins. "Why do people cry at all-night diners?/ Why do they say goodbye so soon?/ Sometimes I dine alone in the springtime/ That's when I sing my lonesome tune." Good grief, Charlie Brown.

Unfortunately, the reaction I had to Volume V is similar to how a kid reacts to a long, cross-country drive-- I began wondering when it would end almost as soon as it began. Maybe it would have been better for Super XX Man to stick to EPs and sevens, the forms that previous volumes took. Would have made for a shorter trip and less carsickness.

This sort of diary pop may appeal to voyeurs or relatives. I'm sure that, for the grandkids, these recordings will be an insightful and appreciated glimpse into the life and mindset of Pappy Garred in his younger days. If you don't happen to be related to Mr. Super XX Man, though, you can always pry into his personal history a bit by listening vicariously. If that's what gets you off. In our increasingly voyeuristic society of "reality" TV addicts, that kind of invasive intimacy may just be the wave of the future. Then again, "Temptation Island" has never had much in the way of artistic merit.

-John Dark