· Gas Giants -- From Beyond the Back Burner (Atomic Pop)
Thirteen years ago, the Gin Blossoms planted the seeds that would grow into what we know today as the Gas Giants. It's inconceivable for a lead singer to form a new band and come out with a different sound -- instead, he molds the sound of the original band adding quality and experience. The Gas Giants are the Gin Blossoms evolved.
Ex-Gin Blossom Robin Wilson fronts the Giants with his clean vocals and poppy lyrics. The opening track, "Now the Change," sets the tone for the upbeat tracks that follow. Guitar riffs and catchy tunes comprise the 13 tracks here. Inspired by Cheap Trick, The Replacements and Tom Petty, the lyrics are somehow unnecessary to many of the tracks; the music leaves quite an impression.
The first released single, "Quitter," has all the ingredients of an instant Top 40 hit, complete with youthful lyrics, clean vocals and a tune that lingers. The chorus ("I can't help it, I'm a quitter, from inside I'm cold and bitter") echoes in the mind after the song is over.
On the opposite end is the last track, "You're Absolutely," an original compared to the others. It has soul. The acoustics are on target and the lyrics have substance. A bit desperate at times, Wilson croons, "Kneeling in the sidewalk there's a pain behind the curse, reeling in the aftershock I can't help it. It's only getting worse." These songs make you want to keep singing them after the CD is over.
The finest thing about this album is the way it was marketed. The label, Atomic Pop, is an online distributor allowing the artist to control the music, not the big suits. From Beyond the Back Burner was released first at atomicpop.com as a digital download before being marketed as a CD.
As a debut, Beyond the Back Burner leaves the listener only somewhat satisfied yet curious for what will come next. (Sara Hoffman)
CityBeat grade: C.
· Morphine -- The Night (Dreamworks)
There are no surprises here, no radical transformations for the bass-drum-saxophone trio known for their minimalist approach. You've heard the first single, "A Good Woman Is Hard to Find," before. It's the bass-lead formula that made Morphine famous.
The style, however, was getting a bit constraining. Their last album, 1997's Like Swimming, didn't have a "Thursday," "Buena" or other breakout song, but it did have a lot of familiar-sounding material about women, missed opportunities and other tragedies of the night.
The same is true for The Night, though singer/bass player Mark Sandman, the group's late leader, took a few more chances on "Like a Mirror." The trio takes several steps away from their driving, intertwined bass and sax and embrace a Middle Eastern rhythm too on "Rope of Fire." On "I'm Yours, You're Mine," a dash of Electronica fills the background. Small changes, yes, but a wink or a nod from Sandman carried more weight than any of the flamboyant posturing of, say, a Marilyn Manson.
Morphine seem as if they were on their way to pulling off the most difficult of musical acrobatics -- expanding their sound without compromising the poetic, dark style that got them here. With The Night, Sandman was well on his way to sticking the landing when his heart gave out on an Italian stage July 3. Add another name to the list of musicians whose lives ended before they were finished. (Doug Trapp)
CityBeat grade: B.
· Wyclef Jean with Kelis, Live at Xavier's Schmidt Fieldhouse (4/1/00)
Some kind of April Fool's joke, this was. It was hardly a concert. Kelis set the night off optimistically, providing a brief set highlighted by her hit, "Caught Out There," and lowlighted by a wedding band-like cover of Lionel Ritchie's "Hello." While she surely has a fantastic voice, the just-average backing band and horrible sound made the set's brevity a blessing.
But at least Kelis played mostly her own songs. What ensued during Fugees founder Jean's set was one of the most unusual things I've ever witnessed in all my years of concert-going. It started off promising with an electrifiying version of the Fugees' cover of Bob Marley's "No Woman, No Cry." Then 'Clef took on the role of party leader and dropped the more appropriate role of concert performer. Instead of playing songs -- he actually had a pretty good backing band -- Jean had his DJ spin records, rapping over the first couple of lines and then just dancing around and trying to pump up the crowd (before getting bored after a minute or two). They weren't even his records.
Jean pandered to the crowd (mostly Xavier students), encouraging them to pogo to House of Pain's "Jump Around," which he again "played" once he got security to let the people in the bleachers onto the floor. The only other bright spot was when Jean performed his version of Dylan's "Gone 'Til November," though he dragged it out interminably (as he did with his rendition of "Guantanamera").
After more than an hour of old and new Hip Hop spun on record, not with the band, 'Clef took the set into nostalgic mode, spinning 1980s hits from Men at Work and a-ha. He called it the "flashback" portion of the show; I took it as a cue to leave. While Jean might have come back and played a couple of his own songs, I decided that if I'm going to watch somebody spin records and dance for an hour and a half, I'll go home and do it myself.
The sad thing is that Wyclef Jean, on record, is one of the more promising artists and producers in Hip Hop. This night, he simply came off like a popular frat boy holding court at a kegger. (Mike Breen)
CityBeat grade: D.
· Smashing Pumpkins -- Machina/The Machines of God (Virgin)
What? The Smashing Pumpkins are still together? After their keyboardist overdosed, after they fired and rehired drummer Jimmy Chamberlin, after bass player D'Arcy Wretzky quit, after recent manager Sharon Osbourne (wife of Ozzy) quit because front man Billy Corgan made her "sick," and after Virgin sued the Pumpkins for not fulfilling their contract quickly enough?
But, hey, I guess that's Rock & Roll. No matter, Corgan and the Pumpkins are putting the smashing back into their name with Machina/The Machines of God. It doesn't have the harder edges of billion-seller Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, nor is Machina full of the soft spots on 1998's Adore. It's a 15-song bridge between the two, complete with waves of guitar, a helping of distortion and quite a few sharp hooks.
Yes, Corgan is still whispering and screaming his way through dark music tinged with a few rays of hope. Success doesn't seem to have lifted his spirits much. Have you seen him lately, bald and in that full length black leather, um, whatever it is? Cheer up, Billy. You're not doing that badly. (DT)
CityBeat grade: B.
