Train
For Me, It's You (2.5 stars)
Train's first hit, "Meet Virginia," was an appealing bit of down-home roots rock with a slight twang and warm lyrics about an earthy woman. Unfortunately, the songs that really brought them into the mainstream, "Drops of Jupiter" and "Calling All Angels," were treacly, middle-of-the-road ballads, and many of the songs on the band's fourth album follow that successful formula—as predictable and mildly enjoyable as anything you've heard from Train on the radio.
At their best, they sound like a sort of Black Crowes-lite (bassist Johnny Colt is a former Crowe) on songs like "Am I Reaching You Now" and "I'm Not Waiting in Line," and they deliver a sprightly cover of Sugar's "If I Can't Change Your Mind," the album's best track. At worst is stuff like first single "Cab" and the title track, overly sincere and uninspired radio fare that's nevertheless competently constructed and well-produced. If Train were an actual train, they'd show up on time and take you exactly where you expected to go, but the scenery would be boring.
Beth Orton
Comfort of Strangers (3 stars)
Warning: listening to this disc while driving can have tragic consequences. I nearly fell asleep at the wheel during my first spin through Comfort of Strangers, Beth Orton's first album in nearly four years.
That's not intended as a damning appraisal; the 14-track set is hardly transcendent, but it rarely misfires, either. I just didn't expect Britain's one-time trip-hop dabbler to strip back her sound to the point where she'd sound at home among the Lilith crowd, or perhaps opening for Norah Jones. And with famed Chicago producer/noise rocker Jim O'Rourke steering the ship, no less.
"Shadow of a Doubt" vaguely recalls the folk-rock magic of early Fairport Convention, "Worms" deviates from the lyrical norm ("worms don't dance / they haven't got the balls") and the somewhat rocked-out "Shopping Trolley" hints at what might have been had O'Rourke stoked the musical fire a bit. But, mostly, a mellow, singer-songwriter attitude prevails, leaving Orton's warm and soothing but otherwise unremarkable voice to carry the load.
Test Icicles
For Screening Purposes Only (2 stars)
No one does hype better than the British. In the past few years alone, the UK press has annointed the Libertines, Bloc Party and the Kaiser Chiefs the new Clash, Gang of Four and Jam, based solely on the new bands' auspicious starts.
Along comes the next wave of British buzz, led by the Arctic Monkeys, Editors and this London trio, already the subject of ludicrous hyperbole as its debut album hits North America.
The Test Icicles' concept—a blend of spastic dance-punk, arty noise-rock and screeching grindcore (think Franz Ferdinand crossed with Whirlwind Heat crossed with the Blood Brothers)—seems intriguing at first, and even more so when the band tosses a few hip-hop beats into the fray, as on "Catch it."
Ultimately, though, as its title suggests, For Screening Purposes Only has little staying power. Most fans of the danceable bits will abhore the grating vocals and vice versa, dooming it as a promising sonic experiment gone frighteningly awry. Or, in the eyes of the British press, the greatest record since Revolver.