Pink
I'm Not Dead (3.5 stars)
It's a shame that Pink felt the need to title her fourth album I'm Not Dead, because it reminds us of the disappointing sales of her last album, 2003's daring and delightful Try This, which found her collaborating primarily with Tim Armstrong of Rancid. On I'm Not Dead, Pink ditches both Armstrong and Linda Perry, the former 4 Non Blondes leader who became one of the hottest writer-producers in the music biz after working on Pink's 2001 M!ssundaztood, in favor of some more conventional pop choices—Max Martin, Butch Walker and, primarily, Billy Mann.
Even playing it safer, she turns in an album far more exciting and diverse than almost any of her pop peers, pushing her collaborators beyond the typical pop parameters on tunes like the bluesy, acoustic "The One That Got Away," the politically charged "Dear Mr. President," featuring the decidedly non-pop Indigo Girls, and even a duet with her Vietnam-vet dad on the protest folk of "I Have Seen the Rain," which he wrote. The album is still an effort to recapture the Top 40, though, so most of the songs are polished and radio-ready, and there are unabashed party tunes like "'Cuz I Can" and the title track (which, unfortunately, is not a record industry kiss-off).
But infectious lead single "Stupid Girls" takes aim at the likes of Paris Hilton and Jessica Simpson, and Pink imbues even her most superficial material with an intelligence and point of view that marks her as an artist whose work will endure beyond a brief run at the top of the charts. I'm Not Dead may be a slight disappointment by the lofty standards that Pink has set for herself, but by any other criteria, it's another remarkable accomplishment.
The Vines
Vision Valley (2 stars)
If points were awarded for perseverance, Vision Valley would be a five-star contender for album of the year. Because if you say you expected to hear from the Vines again after their utter flop of a second disc, frontman Craig Nicholls' diagnosis with a form of autism, an announcement the band would never tour again and the exodus of bassist/Nicholls foil Patrick Matthews, you're lying, plain and simple.
Commendable as the Vines' surprising show of moxie might be, however, the results don't merit similar effort on the part of potential listeners. Far too few moments among the 13 tracks remind us why the fuzzy garage-grunge-meets-melodic-Brit-pop outfit was anointed a next-generation musical messiah alongside the Strokes and White Stripes when debut Highly Evolved hit just four years ago.
If it feels like you've heard everything on Vision Valley before, it's probably because you have: "Nothin's Comin'" and "Gross Out" play like Nirvana outtakes; "Candy Daze" sounds too much like the La's' "I.O.U."; and the title track brazenly nicks the string work from R.E.M.'s "Country Feedback." Weak as all that unoriginality might be, it's still not as bad as titling songs "Fuk Yeh" and "Futuretarded," atrocities that might make you wish the Vines had succumbed to the odds after all.
Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs
Under the Covers, Vol. 1 (2.5 stars)
Some good stuff here. Subjected to Sweet 'n' Hoffs' sunny popcraft, The Who's "The Kids Are Alright" isn't remotely anthemic—neither principal can muster the ragged glory for that. Which is fine; it lets this be an insanely catchy, hummable number that ought to make terrific summer-radio fluff for the programmer savvy enough to playlist it. (You listening, Mix 94.1?)
Too bad that can't be said of all 15 decisions made for this album of '60s tunes. Now, for example, we know why more acts don't cover Bob Dylan's "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue." Listening to Sweet gruff up his delivery for gothic lines like "Yonder stands your orphan with his gun" reminds you of just how much Dylan's spare, portentious croak sounded like the voice of old, weird America itself. Here, pillowed in production and harmony, the lyric sounds kinda dumb.
But the decision problems have less to do with material selection than musical approach. The late, great Sun entertainment writer Joe Delaney sometimes referred to covers as "carbons," and that gets right to the heart of this album's squandered promise. Here in the new century, do we need faithful rendtions of old material? A great cover offers the recombinative thrill of hearing the familiar made newish. So when Sweet and Hoffs decline to firmly put their own stamp on "Different Drum" (or "Monday, Monday" or "Run to Me" or ...) the result is a song that neither supplants the original nor clears any space of its own (or even tries to); its only effect on the world is to clink a few coins into the coffers of whoever collects royalties on old Stone Poneys/Linda Rondstadt songs. Is that really worth booking studio time for?
Junkie XL
Today (3 stars)
He might be most famous in these parts for "A Little Less Conversation," the remix of Elvis' song and the theme song to Las Vegas, but to much of the world and his native Amsterdam, he's known as Tom Holkenborg, the man behind the mask of big-beat Junkie XL, his (usually) one-man electronic band.
(Actually, since "A Little Less Conversation" went gold internationally, they probably know him for that, too.)
A year after his Radio JXL: A Broadcast from the Computer Hell Cabin, Junkie is back with Today, a much more organic album. While Hell Cabin had the conceit of being a pirate radio station, Today takes things back to basics with plenty of guitar and plenty of mournful vocals by Nathan Mader, giving an '80s cast to the 10 tracks, especially on "Mushroom" and "I Have Got a Xerox to Copy." And while it's good musicianship, it feels more like a pop record than an electronic dance one. And one produced by Bryan Ferry on one of his downer days.
Thankfully, the mellowness isn't ubiquitous but there's still little here that will get a club jumping and much more material suited for background cocktail music.