Monday, August 17, 1998
Sound Bites
Various Artists, "Music for the Motion Picture Picture p"
(Thrive)
The filmmakers of "p" have seen fit to sound-scape their fine
movie with electronic music, an obviously shrewd choice. Not only
has the genre been widely touted as the unfettered imagination of
the future, but there’s a congenital eeriness to its wonderwork:
such a lack of known humanity in electronic synthesis exists, yet
check out any rave or underground club, and among the followers
you’ll witness rituals like you’ve never seen before. It’s the
music that’s bringing science back to religion and myth, a
convergence that’s explicit in the movie. This is an appropriate
slice of the "p" when we consider the movie’s fascinating,
tweaked-out style of foresight into the impending countdown of our
lives. Electronic music is an event horizon for the ears.
Which sends us to the true marvel of this project: the
electronic current that is being plugged into is a dark, itchingly
maniacal one – full of trance, drum ‘n bass and trip-hop creeps,
with some techno on the loose to chase us a bit. Clint Mansell’s
gothic overtures furnish bookends for the project ("pr2" and
"2pr"), and he’s got some insane, anxious beats right dab in the
center ("We Got the Gun").
In fact, it’s the middle tracks of the album which harbor the
most ill-will: Gus Gus’ somber "Anthem," David Holmes’ bloody
heartbeats in "No Man’s Land" and from the paramount horsemen of
avenging gloom and doom, Massive Attack’s "Angel."
But as in the movie, anxiety causes speed, and the soundtrack
matches it with high BPMs from both Orbital ("P.E.T.R.O.L.") and
Roni Size, whose "Watching Windows" (remixed brazenly with a hot
syringe by Ed Rush and Optical) induces the most awesome state of
computerized tripping. All the tracks work well, and when the
soundtrack verges on its final moment, we realize that the whole
movie has just been revisited, while its sights and sounds
introduce an exciting brand of the heebie-jeebies for the
millennium.
Tommy Nguyen
Various Artists, "Disturbing Behavior Soundtrack" (Trauma
Records)
As increasingly generic horror flicks emerge, their soundtracks
begin to follow suit in their stale, uncreative formula. Using the
same and similar artists, the soundtrack for "Disturbing Behavior"
only manages to deliver a few noteworthy picks and offers the usual
monotony of a soundtrack like "An American Werewolf in Paris."
The majority of picks on the album are reminiscent of the usual
electric rap and punk music that is found on most modern horror
soundtracks. Synthesized and chaotic rhythms range from the
simplistic "Psycho Clogs" by Jack Drag and the darkly disturbing
industrial bass of Skold1s "Hail Mary."
Just as in "American Werewolf," some of the old players return
for decent yet forgettable numbers. Eva Trout’s "Drivetime Radio"
remains a welcome relief from the synthesized overdose but there’s
not enough melody to really stick in your head. Phunk Junkees also
contribute yet another metal-punk attempt, titled "Million
Rappers," which remains indistinguishable from the rest of the
album.
Fortunately, the album does contain some numbers of true rhythm.
Recent KROQ radio pick, "Got You (Where I Want You)," by the Flys,
proves both catchy and melodic. Addict’s "Monster Side" and Treble
Charger’s "Ever She Flows" also provide decent incentives for
listeners to give the soundtrack a chance. The album has its
moments but they lack any real strength.
Michelle Zubiate
Mary J. Blige, "The Tour" (MCA Records)
For those unfortunate souls who missed the "Queen of Hip Hop and
Soul" at her April 11th Universal Amphitheater concert, there is
still redemption. Just a quick listen to any of the 23 tracks
packed into this invigorating live album, recorded at the Universal
venue, captures the vigorous, soulful emotion and excellence of
Blige, as she strolls down memory lane.
Beginning with old school faves like the swooning remake of
Chaka Khan’s "Sweet Thing," and the playful pick-ups of "Real
Love," to the sullen depths of "My Life," Blige brings us to the
present with recent hits from "Share My World," along with the
Babyface-produced "Not Gon’ Cry."
Every drop of furiously passionate sweat, every breath of pure,
humble thankfulness to her adoring fans and every ounce of love for
her art pours out in the form of Blige’s crushed-velvety voice.
The only thing missing? Actually seeing the glitter, feather boa
and trendy Fendis marking the Mary J. look.
Nerissa Pacio
The Murmurs, "Blender" (MCA)
Songwriters and performers Heather Grody and Leisha Hailey
started with a somewhat contradictory list of ingredients: thrift
shop wardrobe, teenage angst, sing-songy tendencies, big pearly
lip-gloss smiles and a pink CD case.
Though a similar recipe brought us the Dance Hall Crashers’
catchy camp, the Murmurs’ resulting puree is less playful and less
original. Smooth vocals and oft-repeated hooks make the 11 swaying
tracks listenable, but the blend is more unsure than eclectic.
The girls declare "I’m a misfit" in one song and "I’m a mess" in
another, but the ensuing generic lyrics never reveal why. "I stood
my ground," they sing, but all these rebels without causes seem to
stand for is, well, standing for something. The often lolling
background vocals and mellow rhythms are better suited to Natalie
Merchant-style introspection and even the Murmurs’ own opening
song, the carefree "La Di Da."
Thanks, perhaps, to some songwriting help from the outside,
"Smash" livens up the middle of the album with its Ramones-y tones,
short, quick rhymes and cheerleader energy. They finally make the
jump from waffling to versatile with the Indigo Girls-esque
"Underdog," whose folksy harmonies soar with self-assurance, this
time casting away self-imposed loserdom.
The following track, "Sucker Upper," is pleasantly petty,
complaining about a groupie who "bats her eyes to cover up her
lies," and promises, "I’m going to blow your cover." Though the
Murmurs spend much of their time mumbling and blowing bubbles as
pop-able and pink as their album cover, the duo never completely
loses its flavor.
Cheryl Kleinpi
"The Soundtrack"