January 23, 1996 Deeg Blue Something Home lnterscope Deep Blue Something are in the running for the title of World’s Most Boring Band. Not the worst band (we’ll leave Bon Jovi and Silverchair to fight that one out,) but the most boring. Their debut album, Home, doesn’t inspire exhilation or disgust, it inspires, well, nothing. There isn’t must to say about this type of band. If they really sucked, they could be torn down without a second thought, but at least Home would be interesting to listen to. DBS are decent musicians with reasonable songwriting skills, so they deserve a certain amount of credit. But like Hootie and the Blowfish, the world would’t be better or worse if they vanished from its face. This is the kind of album Bob Dole wishes Interscope would make more of. As far as the individual songs go, the highlight of the album is the opening instrumental. It’s followed by ‘Breakfast At Tiffany’s’, an okay song that sounds a little like The Wonder Stuff and has been a successful single for DBS. After that, most humans’ attention spans will collapse and move on to other things, because Home cannot hold one’s attention longer than two songs. The only truly bad song is the title track, and the whole thing ends (finally) on some sort of power ballad by the name of ‘Wouldn’t Change A Thing.’ If DBS want to make the world love them they had better change something, because Home just doesn’t cut it. The opposite of love is indifference, and DBS will get a whole lot of it if they continue in this direction. Until they do change, we’ll have to keep using adjectives like bland, boring, insipid, uninspiring, - unremarkable, dull, and tedious to accurately describe them. by Samuel Lapalme-Remis tt All Change Polydor If these fellows didn’t cite The Who as an influence, I’d worry that Pete Townsend and Roger Daltry had illegitimate children that were musically talented, but were incapable of creating their own sound. Another one-word-name-Brit-pop band. I don’t think I need to say more. If you like Oasis or blur you will like these guys. They are a little happier sounding though. by Kathy Moore Ty The Mother Hepa Part-Timer Goes Full American Most of Lenny Kravitz’s lyrics may be trite and somewhat superficial, but I’d have to agree with him on one thing: rock ‘n’ roll is dead. It’s been 40 years since Rock first hit the musical map, yet most of the ‘fresh, new sounds’ that we’ve been hearing in the 90s are simply retreads of one kind or another. In this era of heightened retro-sensibilities, originality seems to consist of little more than a new label for an old form. Acid Jazz is just 70s funk with a smattering of jazz thrown into the mix; 70s funk grooves and sounds are turning up in a lot of rap/hiphop music; 90s punk is refried 70s punk; and, let’s face it, most ‘alternative’ music is basically the garage-rock of yesteryear. There’s a lot to be said for the observation that the 90s are really just the 70s, only with better drugs. Yet as dead as the form is, there are still a few straight-ahead rock ‘n’ roll bands that blow my skirt up from time to time. The Mother Hips are one such band. There’s nothing startlingly new about the material on Part-Timer Goes Full, but like the aforementioned Kravitz and other retro-heavy bands such as the Black Crowes, they do such a fine job of copping 70s blues-rock in the Stones/Zeppelin/ZZ Top vein that one can’t help but like them. So what is it that keeps Rick Rubin signing blues-rock outfits to the American label? Songs, songs, songs. Just like label-mates the Black Crowes, Raging Slab and, to a lesser extent, the Four Horsemen, the Mother Hips deliver enough catchy licks, leads, lyrics and down-home grooves to keep things interesting. The only question that remains is: how long can Rubin keep signing these sorts of acts before redundancy sets in and the record-buying public loses interest? by Kevin Sallows Menwwe@r Nuisance Polygram You just know you can’t give a ringing endorsement to an album when the first lyrics that catch your attention are these: “Well she had problems with his personal hygiene/ And the coffee he drinks is full of caffeine.” It quickly becomes clear they aren’t trying to make any kind of statement with their music because they’re out to make money playing silly pop. Menswe@r are just another image-obsessed throwaway pop band from Britain. Gee, where did they come up with that concept? Nowhere near as catchy as Elastica or as energetic as Supergrass, Menswe@r should find it impossible to carve a niche in the North American market. However, their are a few bright spots on Nuisance. ‘Sleeping In’ has a certain appeal with its uplifting but meaningless chorus of “I’m only dreaming now/ So don’t make a sound.” ‘Stardust’ rehashes the old self-obsessed rock star cliche with contrived grandeur, but somehow manages to be a decent song. Nuisance enjoyed a longer stint in my CD player that I would have expected, but in the long run I know Ill totally forget it. If you’re looking for a cheap thrill, it might be worth fifteen bucks, but like all throwaway pop, it gets tired very fast. Menswe@r must be exhausted. Poor lads. by Samuel Lapalme-Remis Red Sugar Lure Bungn/ Cargo Their third release. Put this in your CD player and the silence will sneak around, making you wonder if something is broken. Then the first notes come softly through. Suddenly all surroundings are an intense aural experience. How did this happen? As ears hear, so do feet tap to the almost unbearable reckoning of instrumental demons, harnessed by the necromancy of these four artists. It’s Hard Jazz, there is nothing else to call Red Sugar. This isn’t their first recording; tastes like I should listen to more cotton candy. by Joyce Robinson Miles Davis The Complete live ut the Plugged Nickel Sony Music Old jazz musicians had a different sensibility than most modern rock/pop musicians. How many rock musicians do you know who could, in the course of two evening play enough music to fill eight full-length CeeDees? Such is the genius of Miles Davis, whose two-night stint at the Plugged Nickel in December, 1965 brought forth almost nine hours worth of music. The highlights of the evening were originally released as a two record set, but with increased demand for Miles’ music, Sony has remixed the entire set of recordings and released the entire package as a boxed set. The 1965 incarnation of the Miles Davis quintet features some of the best support players in history, including Saxophonist Wayne Shorter, Bassist Ron Carter, drummer Tony Williams and pianist Herbie Hancock. Contrary to popular belief, not every note that Davis played was perfect, and this boxed set has enough glitches to dispel any myth that Davis was infallible. However, Davis’ true genius lie in his ability to take risks, both as a player and as a band leader. For the uninitiated looking to get into Davis, this is not the place to start (I would recommend Jn a Silent Way or Kind of Blue for the beginner.) For jazz aficionados and Davis freaks, this boxed set is a great addition to any collection. By Trent Ernst