Wednesday, January 22, 1997Various artists "Rhyme & Reason"
soundtrack (Priority) It seems that the new trend in movie
soundtracks is to include songs that aren’t even in the movie. What
the hell does "music inspired by the motion picture" mean?
The refreshing thing about the "Rhyme & Reason" soundtrack
is that it contains 15 hip-hop tracks from a movie about hip-hop
music. The soundtrack crosses all boundaries within the genre by
including artists from various recording labels as well as from
various parts of the country. Whether it’s from the East Coast,
West Coast or somewhere in between  it’s all still hip-hop
music.
Like most soundtracks this album has its gems and its filler
material. The first single and one of the album’s strongest cuts,
"Nothin’ But the Cavi Hit," features a West Coast collaboration
between Mack 10 and Tha Dogg Pound. There is also an
equally-slamming East Coast collaboration titled "Wild Hot" between
Q-Tip from A Tribe Called Quest and Busta Rhymes. Ras Kass and
Heltah Skeltah show that not all artists participate in the West
Coast/ East Coast conflict by teaming up on "Uni-4-Orm."
Other artists who deserve a listen include E-40, the Rza, the
Lost Boyz and KRS-One. Some less successful tracks will have
listeners reaching for the fast-forward button (Crucial Conflict is
just plain annoying). However, "Rhyme & Reason" contains a
sufficient variety of tracks that will satisfy any hip-hop fan.
Hopefully, the movie, which will be released on February 21, 1997,
is as good as the soundtrack. Nelson Saldua Grade: B
Fine Young Cannibals "Fine, Finer, Finest: Greatest Hits" (MCA
Records) How many Fine Young Cannibals songs can you name? Exactly
 two, three if you were a music writer in high school. These
gents have not had what one would call a career in the media
spotlight, and their attempt to present material as lauded
"Greatest Hits" is mighty transparent. Despite this, "Fine, Finer,
Finest: Greatest Hits" has some good work on it (some new, some
old) and after a couple of listens, is rather pleasing.
"She Drives Me Crazy" remains the highlight of FYC’s work, and
makes the point in 1997 that some synth-pop is timeless. The song’s
drum-machine backbone and processed guitar are still yummy after
all these years. "Good Thing" goes in the other direction and mixes
great Motown tambourine beats with bluesy piano. The lyrics don’t
get too heavy in either of these classics, but that’s not what the
’80s were about.
Most listeners will discover for the first time other songs like
"The Flame," a new track produced last year, and "Since You’ve Been
Gone." A large number of tracks have a real retro feel to them and
incorporate Motown and bubble gum rock rhythms. "Tell Me What" and
"Funny How Love Is" are good but feel several decades old.
"Fine, Finer, Finest" is a nice collection of songs, and is
almost worth having for those who don’t already own "She Drives Me
Crazy" and "Good Thing." As for the new stuff and the B-sides, it
is mildly interesting in places, but no reason to buy an album.
Damon Seeley Grade: C
Various Artists, "To Have and to Hold" soundtrack (Mute) As
memories of last night slip like smokey incense tendrils through
the window and into the morning, the purification process must
begin. It commences with the collection of empty bottles of Black
Velvet and half drunk cans of Natty Light, and continues with the
washing of cigarette ashes from the roommate’s sticky chair. The
bite marks left on your lips from a horribly kissing drunk punk
reminds you of who they think you are and who you would rather
be.
Now is the time to pop in the soundtrack for "To Have and to
Hold." God knows what the movie is about  probably some
cheesy, big budget, Hollywood jungle love affair filmed on location
in the Amazons. Yet, the film’s original score, composed by Mick
Harvey, Blixa Bargeld and that Bad Seed, Nick Cave, tells a more
soothing story.
A sense of nostalgia for what could have been or never was fills
the room. Violins with a heavy pull and a melancholic harp drag the
visions of gloom past your eyes. By the time the album works
through aboriginal chanting, calling to the unspoiled, untouched
virgin soil of some far away land, a little bit more of that hidden
self can breathe. Then, when the deep voiced Scott Walker creeps
out the words to "I Threw it All Away," you can feel yourself
breaking again. At this point, what seems a bonus track, "Gangster
Bone," a harsh rap tune, not connected in mood to the rest of the
album in anyway, just stands as further proof that your existence
is meaningless along with everything else you’ve ever known. You
can take out your trash now and go back to sleep. Vanessa
VanderZanden Grade: B+
60 Cycle "60 Cycle" (Strap On Records) If a name like "60 Cycle"
for a band doesn’t grab you, then you’re better off for the lack of
motivation. Otherwise, you might be tempted to try out the tunes on
their tragically thrown together album of the same name. However,
if the images of fast cars and empty-headed dolts named Wally that
such a band name invokes suggests to you a perfectly good-rockin’
time, you may be in for trouble.
First, because this vision appeals to you, and second, because
you actually get the horrible music which you desire. Yet, you will
not be disappointed by 60 Cycle’s ceaseless strumming of guitars
which telegraph the oh-so-predictable drum entrance of repetitive,
stilted beats. Nor will your tired brow shirk at the unending
supply of emotionlessly released lyrics sputtering forth from the
lead singer in songs such as "Reefer Madness" and "Strapper." In
fact, the allusions to illegal drugs and kinky sex will excite your
school boy imagination. After all, when Mom tells you not to talk
about stuff the more intriguing those subjects become.
So go ahead, strap yourself onto a 60 cycle and prepare yourself
for one of the most mundane rides of your Cro-Magnon existence.
It’s well worth the three hours of pumping gas at Thrifty the CD
price will require. Vanessa VanderZanden Grade: D
Latimer "Live from Sour City" (World) When the lead singer wants
to be David Bowie and the band wants to be NOFX, the result is a
shallow, grating sound that promises a wider range of musical
movement than can possibly be supported. Such is the case with
Latimer’s tinny album, "Live from Sour City."
The initial reaction one has to it is that the 14-year-old
neighbor got his friends to actually release the songs they’d been
working on in the next door garage. The album uninspires one to the
point of absolute blankmindedness. "Live from Sour City" would, in
this way, make for a wonderful accompaniment to perfecting one’s
Buddhist meditation practices.
Yet, all world religions may wish to see the demise of the
abomination that is Latimer. This band’s aura of suckiness is blind
to any boundaries between various sects’ views on matters of the
soul because they themselves have none. Representational of this
pathetic excuse for song writing comes in the form of "Used Cars,"
a song about how used cars are preferable to new cars. It goes like
this: "A new car? Don’t want a new car. A used car? I want a used
car." Yep, it’s time to whip out that yoga blanket because the mind
is nowhere to be found. Vanessa VanderZanden Grade: D
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