Pop

The Jazzyfatnastees
The Tortoise & the Hare
(Coolhunter/Rykodisc ***1/2)

Floetry
Floetic
(DreamWorks ***)

If the neo-soul coming out of Philly in recent years has taught the industry anything, it's that there's room in urban music for material that breaks away from the predictable. These two projects, by female duos with wildly divergent musical concentrations, continue in that tradition, offering bold, beautifully sung R&B journeys and canny twists on the hip-hop boom-thwack.

You know the rulebook is gone by track two of the Jazzyfatnastees' disciplined second effort: "El Medio" is sung in Spanish. But it doesn't pander, and it doesn't cop the usual conga-line cliches - its languid, dream-state phrases, sung by Mercedes Martinez and Tracey Moore, exude a late-night longing that's understandable in any language. From there, the Jazzys and an all-star roster of Philly musicians pop out the syncopated "All Up in My Face"; a slinky rock vamp that shows the group's sophisticated harmonies, "Compelled"; and ballads notable for their wrenching, open-hearted melodies.

The two British women who call themselves Floetry have come a long way since they first showed up three years ago in Philly with a cool concept: One, Natalie Stewart, calls herself the Floacist and is responsible for delivering the tart, slashing rhymes. The other, self-described "Songstress" Marsha Ambrosius, embellishes them with high-flying vocal ad-libs. They've collaborated with the producers from A Touch of Jazz, Andre "Dirty" Harris and Vidal Davis, and Ambrosius even cowrote "Butterflies," the one song from Michael Jackson's Invincible that earned serious radio play.

Together they make pop/hip-hop that unites a serious rhyme attack with incessantly catchy hooks and provocatively sung ad-libs. Sometimes, as on "Ms. Stress," an anthem about finding oneself, Stewart's wordy narrative takes center stage. But just as often, as on the scathing indictment of a no-good lover "Mr. Messed Up," the flow depends on Ambrosius' chattering, almost taunting vocal responses. When it clicks, which is not all the time on a record that's often awash in synthesized strings, Floetry stops being a gimmick and becomes its own genre, whose potential is not even close to being tapped.

- Tom Moon

LeAnn Rimes
Twisted Angel
(Curb ***)

Janet Jackson grew up. Britney will. At age 20, LeAnn Rimes believes she has gone beyond the adolescence in which she was the coltish kid of the cornpone county fair. For her new Twisted Angel, she goes beyond the usual Nashville coterie to employ veteran songwriters and producers (Eric Bazilian, Desmond Child) who impart a country-politan, pop-hop veneer to her achy-breaky voice.

With the exception of dunderheaded big beats and twerpy guitars (if "Love Is an Army," retreat quickly!), Rimes' balladeering backgrounds and impassioned vocal charms are intact, just slicker - like Kelly Clarkson with a twang. What's most impressive about the new Rimes is that she's writing knowing lyrics, as on "Life Goes On," that belie her age. Angel may not be Rimes' Nashville Skyline. But it could be her Blonde on Blonde. Maybe.

- A. D. Amorosi

Bon Jovi
Bounce
(Island/DefJam *)

The news release accompanying Bounce proclaims that Bon Jovi is a "global band" that can transcend barriers of language and culture through the specialness of its melodies. The video for the first single, "Everyday," follows the New Jersey pop-rock combo around the globe, and at every stop, be it a Middle Eastern outdoor market or a Tokyo street, the camera finds a TV playing the latest BJ video as it enthralls the locals.

All that really does, of course, is establish Bon Jovi as a global brand. And as a purveyor of worldwide product, Bon Jovi tries hard for consistency on Bounce, to give listeners what they expect - feel-good chorales carrying generic expressions of independence and self-realization punctuated with the most trite rhythm guitars and the sappiest strings imaginable.

Bounce isn't just lowest-common-denominator stuff - it's awful pabulum, a parade of cliches and cautionary tales that make the band's 1986 hit "Living on a Prayer" sound as profound as "Good Vibrations." Bottom line: One of the most wretched, embarrassingly tuneless records in rock history. Probably be huge overseas.

- Tom Moon

Country / Roots

Guy Clark
The Dark
(Sugar Hill ***1/2)

"He said life's a tune you whistle in the dark/ When you get it right you get a little spark," Guy Clark sings on "Bag of Bones," about a bent but unbowed sage. The 60-year-old Clark sounds more than a bit weathered himself, but on The Dark, the Texas troubadour, now based in Nashville, proves his muse is as vibrant as ever.

The acoustic settings convey a four-guys-sitting-around-and-picking intimacy that perfectly suits Clark's craggy, conversational voice and his wise, well-crafted songs. Heart-tugging, profound, frisky and fun, or surprisingly bitter ("Queenie's Song," about the shooting of his dog), he remains eloquently plainspoken and as down-to-earth as "Mud" (the lead track). The one nonoriginal, "Rex's Blues," is by his late pal, Townes Van Zandt, and it fits right in with Clark's own gems.

- Nick Cristiano

Buddy Miller
Midnight and Lonesome
(HighTone ***1/2)

Like all of Buddy Miller's solo albums, Midnight and Lonesome is really a collaboration with his wife, Julie, who wrote four songs, cowrote three, and adds harmonies throughout. The result is another beautiful album that reaffirms their status as the first couple of Americana.

Buddy Miller is the musical standout of the two; the singer-guitarist is a soulful stylist who sounds equally at home here with gutbucket honky-tonk and supremely elegant rhythm and blues (an exquisite version of Percy Mayfield's "Please Send Me Someone to Love"), with folk, Cajun-rock and Everlys pop in between. What really makes it powerful, however, is the writing, from Julie's devastating portraits of regret and heartache on the title track to the couple's more lighthearted fare, such as "Wild Card" and "Little Bitty Kiss."

- N. C.

Jazz

Weather Report
Live and Unreleased
(Sony Columbia ***1/2)

Despite its popularity and importance, the fusion group Weather Report, whose 15-year run ended in 1985, was not well-documented live. This double CD corrects that, charting some of its incarnations and reminding us what an amazing amalgamation WR was.

However, there's no chronology, and the cuts flit back and forth across the years in no particular order. Saxophonist Wayne Shorter and keyboardist Joe Zawinul were the indispensable mainstays, but some big-time folks came and went. Bassist Jaco Pastorius, a Norristown native, was probably the biggest addition, entering in 1976.

That said, the effects here are north of cool. "Plaza Real" starts off classical and wistful, then goes through several transformations that showcase Zawinul's spiraling imagination and Shorter's artfulness. The shimmering chords that open Pastorius' "Teen People" are taken over by his gurgling bass, which seemed to come from an Atlantis-like locale.

Every tune is a group effort bigger than each performer. Some sound a bit noisy two decades later, but most point out WR's unique blend of commercial appeal and high standards. The work still stands up.

- Karl Stark

Orrin Evans
Meant to Shine
(Palmetto ***)

Pianist Orrin Evans continues to deepen his work. This quartet set is dark and alluring, if occasionally tough to hang with.

The Philly-based firebrand seems to be mellowing. Tunes such as "Dawn Marie," named for his vocalist wife, are prettier than before. The melody of "Commitment" seems influenced by saxophonist Bobby Watson, an important Evans collaborator for the last five years.

The leader still likes to push the limits, indulging occasionally in free jazz. But he's making room for more listeners. Saxophonists Sam Newsome and Ralph Bowen trade off the quartet's horn parts, and Bowen contributes on flute and bass clarinet. Drummer Gene Jackson is the experienced hand motoring this disc while bassist Eric Revis lays down the bottom.

The result is a fine-grained set that both challenges listeners and brings them enjoyment.

- K. S.
Classical

Gluck:
Alceste
Anne Sofie von Otter, Paul Groves, Dietrich Henschel, Monteverdi Choir and English Baroque Soloists, John Eliot Gardiner conducting.

(Philips ***1/2)

So often in Gluck's Alceste, you sense there's a great opera in there somewhere if only the singers and conductor could find it. This time, they have. As both scholar and conductor, Gardiner is at his best, having studied the original manuscript of this great but notoriously messy composer and made a lot of decisions that externalize the interior musical narrative that's easily lost in washes of orchestral sound. Orchestral textures couldn't be cleaner, clearer and more purposeful, powered by urgent tempos and dramatic contrasts of whiplash intensity.

Unlike past Alceste recordings, the cast isn't lost-sounding over-the-hill Wagnerians. This recording followed a string of Robert Wilson-staged performances in Paris, and dramatically uncommitted moments don't exist. However, the total effect is a bit severe, the opera's profound emotions seeming just a bit too tidy.

- David Patrick Stearns

Tchaikovsky:
Violin Concerto Op. 35
Shostakovich:
Violin Concerto No. 1
Ilya Gringolts, violin; Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, Itzhak Perlman conducting.
(Deutsche Grammophon **)

Though barely into his 20s, Russian-born violinist Gringolts has already spent several seasons playing with top orchestras (including Philadelphia's in June 2001) and recording solo discs for the independent Bis label. Now he's being given the star treatment by Deutsche Grammophon with standard repertoire concertos conducted by his mentor, Itzhak Perlman. Hearing it, you wonder why. The playing is accomplished, but there's nothing very distinctive about the tone quality, phrasing or tempos. Though the Shostakovich at least has welcome intensity, the Tchaikovsky sounds dutiful, even routine.

- D.P.S.