SOUNDCHECK

Good Charlotte


Good Morning Revival

(3 stars)

Compared to epic concept albums by My Chemical Romance and Green Day, the new release from one-time pop-punkers Good Charlotte doesn't amount to much. Like most of their peers, they've expanded their sound so much that there is no longer anything recognizably punk about it, but they haven't done so in service of some grand operatic vision—they've just become the completely disposable pop act they've always been holding back inside.

That's not necessarily a bad thing—not everyone is cut out to write bombastic, intricate songs full of social commentary. The boys of Good Charlotte, led by twins Benji and Joel Madden, really just want to get down and have a good time. With all the effort they put into making the scene at hip clubs in LA and New York, as well as getting their faces into tabloids (Joel spent a few years dating Hilary Duff, and has since moved on to Nicole Richie), they're pretty successful at being pop stars, and by pop-star standards, Good Morning Revival is not half bad. Producer Don Gilmore gives the album an antiseptic, hermetically sealed sound, but that's exactly what this sort of music calls for.

There are songs that sound like Linkin Park, songs that sound like Coldplay and even one song that features Joel awkwardly rapping about bling. That one ("Keep Your Hands Off My Girl") may be horribly ill-advised, but the keyboard-heavy album's other attempts at danceability are more successful, and most of the songs are at least as catchy as anything by Joel's ex-girlfriend. "Don't be afraid to get down," he sings on "Dance Floor Anthem," and it's hard to fault him for having little else on his mind.

Amy Winehouse


Back to Black

(2 stars)

Winehouse, a gruff soul stylist from London, well-known for causing (apparently drunken) ruckuses on various British talk shows, now has her sights set on a U.S. takeover, via the single "Rehab," a most fortuitous offering in a year increasingly dominated by lurid media images of Lindsay, bald Britney, et al. And what of it?

With its frothy texture and stuttering New Orleans beat, "Rehab" is pretty fab-sounding indeed, even if it ultimately strikes me as a worthy fluke—a minor pop miracle from a singer not (yet) capable of sustaining a groove.

The problem with Back to Black is that the music is so at odds with the persona. Winehouse wants to be the bad girl. Sometimes irritatingly so: in "Me and Mr. Jones," for instance, she sounds a bit too proud of herself for using (and repeating) the word "f--kery." Which she might pull off—which might not call so much attention to itself—if the backing music didn't reek of the stodgiest sort of retro-conservatism. This isn't music that's "true to the spirit" of Motown and girl groups and lounge-jazz; it's music that bleeds every last detail from those records dry. Well performed, I suppose, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

The Fall

Reformation Post TLC

(3 stars)

Several early reviews of the latest effort from erstwhile British post-punkers The Fall fixate on personnel changes the band has experienced since releasing previous album Fall Heads Roll in 2005. To which I can only ask: Have the past 30 years taught no one anything at all?

No offense to the other 30-odd figures who have floated in and out of the group's lineup, but The Fall has existed, from the very start, as a vehicle for singer/songwriter/resident madman Mark E. Smith. The other musicians matter only in the live context; much as I enjoyed Ben Pritchard's guitar work at a 2003 gig, I can't say he played a big role sculpting my favorite recent Fall tracks in the studio.

Thus, Reformation Post TLC sounds just as you'd expect—better than some Fall albums, not as good as others. Smith's manic, snarling, occasionally growling, mostly lyrically nonsensical vocals hover atop repetitious Kraut-rock-in-a-garage loops and just-this-side-of-chaos rhythms. A couple of songs ("Reformation!," "Fall Sound") belong with Smith's best recordings this decade, and a couple ("Insult Song," "The Bad Stuff") rank among his worst. Longtime fanatics should buy it. Non-diehards should not. Like recognizing the only man who matters for The Fall, it's just that simple.

The Tragically Hip

World Container

(3 1/2)

The Tragically Hip has sometimes been unfairly tagged as Canada's R.E.M. Maybe it's because of singer Gordon Downie's vocal Michael Stipe-isms or the abstract qualities of each singer's lyrical word play.

The description is lazy if not unfair. The Hip rocks harder than R.E.M and always has. The band makes arena rock with alternative, for lack of a better term, stylistic fringes.

So when the band brought in Metallica/Mötley Crüe uberproducer Bob Rock, one would guess the end result would be nothing more than a crushing wall-of-sound guitar thunderstorm turned up to 11. Instead, the quintet focuses on its ability to create the anthemic power pop of its past.

Don't dismiss "The Kids Don't Get It," as a faux Clash or Police B-side. The guitars and Downie's phrasing hit just the right catchy notes.

"Last Night I Dreamed You Didn't Love Me" has Downie pleading over gorgeous chords for understanding in a sort of a hard-rock-via-Crowded-House way.

World Container is another great batch of songs from a band that steadily makes very good albums. Hip-notic? For sure.