Heard Here

Matchbox 20

Whose idea was this? No, seriously, whose idea was this? After making one of the worst albums of the century, Matchbox 20 thought it would be a good idea to hit the studio again and make us submit to another onslaught of some of the most pathetic, radio-friendly singles anyone has ever heard, even in the former Soviet Union. Rob Thomas, a tubby man with bad hair, honestly thought that the kids deserved this monstrosity.

There have been a few key bands who have been instrumental in the downfall of popular music as we know it. Nobody will ever forgive Hootie and the Blowfish for what they have done, but some people seem to accept the sins of Matchbox 20 by simply saying, "I just like to get stoned to the tits and jam out to this, man." This is not acceptable. As reasonable human beings we need to stand up and say, "I will not sit here and listen to this overweight fool sing terrible songs about the woman who almost went out with him but was too turned off by his excessive lovehandles to sit through a movie with him." We need to let this band know that we are not fooled, and whining is not a substitute for feelings.

Honestly though, these guys get paid more than all of your bank accounts combined. How can anybody consciously go out and buy this, knowing full well that they are supporting the idea that rock is simply something that can be manufactured and put on a disc and shoved down our throats?! This is the man who sang on that Santana song that wouldn't leave you alone for about a year and you're still going to buy this album even though you know it means selling your soul in return for a piece of garbage that you're just going to take to record exchange in about two weeks. You sell-out. The only good thing about this album is that the big fat man himself, John Popper, is nowhere to be found. The fact that this is the only mainstream album which does not feature John Popper playing his harmonica so fast that he doesn't need any semblance of soul to make the American public think he's good, is enough to make this album go from the worst album ever to the second worst album ever. Please don't buy this. Best Buy (the devil) is keeping tabs on everyone who buys it and in twenty years they WILL come for your soul and you WILL pay the ultimate price. Don't do it. -Tyler Kord

Britney Spears

Oops! I actually listened to this entire CD! Yes the youthful silicon queen, Britney Spears, has released another studio wonder, Oops!..I Did it Again. This timeless follow up to Baby One More Time can be described as nothing other than, well, bad-it caused a sudden loss of vocabulary.

Somebody scream bloody ATF murder, Britney went Waco on this one. What were Mick Jagger and Keith Richard not thinking when they handed over the rights to "Satisfaction"? Spears' four minute twenty eight second rendition of the Rolling Stones' classic will take you to place where even Vanilla Ice would rather not be. This cover is anything but satisfaction.

Did any of you hear Samantha Fox's newest? Exactly! Britney's quickly developing career seems to be paralleling that of Fox's, except she hasn't hit the illict movie circuit...yet. Can't you picture it now? Jail Bait, the hot and steamy story of one girl's desire to defile all that is good and pure and a bonus trip to the mall, staring Britney Spears and the Olsen Twins, Mary Kate and Ashley.

"Dear Diary," the only Britney Spears original on the album, is a conglomeration of every school girl fantasy, "Dear Diary: Today I saw this boy and I wondered if he noticed..." [my incredibly large rack] "...He took my breath away." "Dear Diary - I couldn't get him off my mind..." [till I saw that cute little outfit with the]. . . Oops! What was I writing about?

With tracks like "Lucky," a song about a girl named Lucky who has everything, and nothing, it's no wonder that her simple thoughts and school girl looks appealed to record execs at Jive record. "She's so lucky, she's a star. But she cry, cry, cries her lonely heart." With this one she lays the track for her own future; the little rich girl who had it all, only to end up hocking for 10 spots on the Hollywood strip.

The doctors over at Jive need to make a trip back to the Operating Room, this LP needs a little augmentation. Her breasts have more substance than her music. -Daniel Romano

Pearl Jam

When you look back on it, our generation has been truly blessed musically. Despite the current artistic vacancy in popular music, we can look back and say that we were around in 1991 and 1992. Every generation, there is an artistic explosion in music, all at once, and 1991 to 1992 was our generation's flashpoint.

Those two years saw Nevermind, Achtung Baby, Dirt, Core, Automatic for the People-and Ten. Music never seemed so healthy, with established bands like R.E.M. and U2 doing their best work to date, and the newcomers leading music (we thought) into a new era. Who can't sing and air guitar the whole of Nevermind to this date-and who didn't wear out the tape of Ten?

However, like any great year in rock, the main participants have taken very divergent routes since then. Just as the Beatles had only two more years together and the Stones still haven't called it quits, so did Nirvana flame out, and Pearl Jam marches on. But not in the same direction; in fact, it was apparent early on that Vedder, McCready, Gossard and company were not going in any direction other than the one they wanted.

While their sophomore effort, Vs., did contain several more hits, the forever-second boys from Seattle have diverged ever more from their original formula. Vitalogy, No Code and Yield contained ever more experimental efforts, and ever fewer designated radio hits. Their battle with Ticketmaster and political involvement also exemplified their wish to not be what many hoped they would be: the next Huge Rock Stars.

After years of searching, it seems perhaps Pearl Jam has finally settled down. They are still capable of producing huge hits, as last year's Last Kiss single (whose profits went to a war relief effort) exemplified. And now, with Binaural, maybe Pearl Jam has found a new identity that fits. Gone is original drummer Dave Abbruzzese (replaced with Matt Cameron, formerly of Soundgarden), as is McCready. And the co-pioneers of grunge find themselves quite far removed from their original sound with their new lineup.

They no longer find success in thrashing - in fact, the up-tempo numbers are the album's chief weaknesses. But where raw power has left, subtlety has replaced it. Always bittersweet, Pearl Jam's best melodies now carry an additional world-weariness that their decade of successes and pressures have placed on the ban's shoulders.

That is not to say Binaural is a complete success. The fast numbers sound hollow and uninspired at times without McCready's guitar and Abbruzzese's persistent drums, and this contributes to an at-times uneven feeling on the record. The first three tracks are unremarkable, but "Light Years" and "Nothing as it Seems" are complex and inspired. "Thin Air" and "Of the Girl" likewise succeed, but the surrounding tracks do not. However, the album saves its best for last, as the final three tracks and particularly the finale, "Parting Ways" capture the feel of Pearl Jam at their best, but without any sense that the feeling is forced.

Binaural is not Ten. Pearl Jam was in a sense set up for disappointment from the beginning, as it would be hard to go anywhere but down from their debut. Instead, they have gone to the side, and at times bumped around off road. They aren't completely settled yet-they may never be. But Pearl Jam finally seems comfortable in their own skins. -Jacob Kramer-Duffield

Metallica

What??!! It seems that when rock stars reach a certain level of being washed up, they turn to the only thing that they feel can save them - a collaboration with a reputable orchestra. Metallica joined the club with their latest effort, S&M, an ill-advised venture into testosterone-loaded orchestral metal. Didn't they listen to that Frank Zappa album? Is the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra just a bunch of MTV sell-outs? You know it's sad but true.

Well, the bell has finally tolled for the band that once brought us real-deal commercial metal hits such as "Enter Sandman," "Wherever I May Roam" and "One." On S&M, Metallica delivers would-be sophisticated versions of their old and new songs, the same songs that made us want to burn things and watch American Gladiators as children.

But for all of Lars Ulrich's musical training, not even his thundering drumbeats can save this album from going down as one of the biggest tragedies in rock and roll history. Indeed, he and his bandmates have finally reached the bottom of the barrel, and it is all too apparent that they are determined to drag Metallica into the 21st century as a pathetic, lumbering joke.

This two-disc set features many of Metallica's greatest hits from Ride the Lightning to Re-load. (Obviously, material from the band's ferocious debut Kill 'Em All couldn't make the transition into symphonic rock.) But while the songs remain the same in name alone, it is clear that the band has been running on empty for too long. What's really sad is that if somebody played this album for James Hetfield back in 1989, he probably wouldn't believe that he had anything to do with such a monstrosity.

But facts are facts. Hetfield and Ulrich, the same songwriting team that once produced classics like "Disposable Heroes" and "Creeping Death," are now serving up rancid trash for a generation of teenagers who wouldn't know a decent metal band if it stole their bedside jar of Vaseline. Just think about it. Would the Hetfield and Ulrich that popularized speed metal with cuts like "Whiplash" and "Seek and Destroy" really write a song called "No Leaf Clover?" ("Clover," which features a Jethro Tull-style flute solo, makes Spinal Tap's "Stonehenge" look like minimalist rock.) Certainly, the call of the Ktulu seems to have completely missed them this time. For this latest and most degrading chapter in the once-proud legacy of Metallica, I dub them unforgiven and hope that their band soon fades into black obscurity.

That said, it's a sad day in America when a real symphony orchestra needs to prostitute itself out to dying rock bands just to stay afloat. Watching their audiences age into senility caused a handful of orchestras to call it quits in the last year alone, simply because they refused to throw away their integrity and make an album like S&M. Even so, it's scary to consider the possibility that a handful of unlucky conservatory students will find themselves in the recording studio jamming on their oboes with Kid Rock in a few years. Come to think of it, that would be pretty funny, wouldn't it?

So put down your air violin and start writing letters. Tell Metallica that you don't want to hear this filth. Do it soon before they take the next step into securing their own ostracism from the ranks of legitimate musicians by putting out an album of popular DJs re-mixing Metallica hits. It may not be too late. Who knows, maybe Eddie Furlong will send a terminator back in time to destroy Metallica and save the future. Or maybe not. Whatever the case, the world would be a better place if someone would just find the members of the band and kill 'em all. -Tyler Kord