This year has brought a novel breed of country album, one fashioned not by maverick new artists but by traditional singers collaborating with rock producers who bring fresh ears and ideas to the country format. Robert John "Mutt" Lange, for example, who built his reputation with the Cars, Def Leppard and other noise-makers, propelled the elegant Canadian Shania Twain to the top of the country charts (and to the altar—Lange and Twain wed in 1993).
On this daring departure for Harris, she works with progressive rock producer Daniel Lanois, who lends her voice the shimmering mysticism he brought to U2. Lanois creates evocative arrangements in which layers of sound rise like sheets of heat off a Louisiana blacktop. With Harris he has forged such haunting and inventive tracks as Julie Miller's woe-is-me ballad "All My Tears" and Anna McGarrigle's defeated Appalachian hymn "Goin' Back to Harlan."
But the experiment is not an unqualified success. Harris is pushed into songs on which she is uncomfortable with the phrasing ("Where Will I Be") or the pitch ("Deeper Well"). She is still at her best on the simplest, most straightforward melodies—such as Lucinda Williams's "Sweet Old World," on which Harris's pellucid voice soars with thrilling abandon.
Emmylou ends up standing tall on the ambitious Wrecking Ball, even when she's a trifle out of her depth. (Elektra/Asylum)
Pet Shop Boys
Considering that Pet Shop Boys haven't done brisk business with their recent A-sides, releasing this two-CD collection of B-sides and other rarities suggests a wobbly game plan. Die-hard fans may get a 2-hour thrill out of playing along, but others should stick with "West End Girls," the duo's 1986 No. 1 hit single.
On these tunes Pet Shop Boys Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe work their highbrow kitsch the usual way, with such song-title hooks as "What Keeps Mankind Alive?" and "The Sound of the Atom Splitting"—and Tennant's detached, love-it-or-hate-it vocal style. Free of the artistic constraints normally brought on by trying to record hit singles, the twosome indulges in such quirk-outs as "Losing My Mind," a synthy melodrama previously recorded by Liza Minnelli, and supercharged dance tunes that may be hip 20 years from now in some post-millennium disco.
Still, stretching musically doesn't always lead to sonic glory. When Pet Shop Boys unplug their microchip pop and lounge it up on "If Love Were All," even diehards might want to break out the muzzle. (EMI)
Luna
Luna, a quartet that includes former members of such low-volt age bands as Galaxie 500, the Feelies and the Chills, is like a bumper car content to prowl a circumscribed arena. Luna's new album, like its previous two, doesn't rock so much as administer well-cushioned bumps that send out a tiny shower of sparks. Few things musical could be more pleasant. The guitar work, by Dean Wareham and Sean Eden, has a nice, easy lope to it, and the production is airy and hushed. Wareham's adenoidal vocals have a pickled quality to them, but they're just right for lyrics that are typically silly and tart, as in "Rhythm King" ("Headin' for Tacoma, and drivin' too fast/Nixon's in a coma, and I hope it's gonna last/Women turn to flowers, men turn to snakes..."). It bumps along from there. (Elektra)
Michael Bolton
Bolton's fans are so devoted that a conventional greatest-hits package wouldn't make much sense. Since hard-core Boltonites already have every record he has ever released, buying a retrospective would be like paying to see the coming attractions of a movie you already own on video. Which may explain why this compilation is so liberally larded with new material.
But first there is a chronological presentation of his recording career (only his 1983 Columbia debut is missing). The early favorites such as "How Am I Supposed to Live Without You" and "How Can We Be Lovers" are palpable hits on which Bolton's fearsome voice is more penetrating than an air-raid siren. He doesn't sing these songs—he sandblasts them. It really wasn't until "Said I Loved You...But I Lied" in 1993 that Bolton acquired restraint and sophistication.
As for the new material, the best is the languid but pulsing "Can I Touch You...There?" and a lush and affecting cover of "A Love So Beautiful," by Jeff Lynne and the late Roy Orbison. The new tunes also include the weepy ballad "I Promise You," the purple pop of "I Found Someone," a Bolton composition previously covered by Cher, and the pretentious anthem "This River," which sounds like something mercifully left off The Lion King soundtrack.
This collection may well earn Bolton some new enthusiasts. Of course, the old zealots will simply have to have it. This may not be a musical breakthrough, but it sounds like a pretty savvy marketing strategy. (Columbia)
>Emmylou Harris
DETOUR ON A COUNTRY ROAD
Country-music diva Emmylou Harris's album Wrecking Ball is her most unusual ever. For her 21st record, Harris, 48, picked an unlikely producer—rock veteran Daniel Lanois, crafter of impressionistic soundscapes for U2, Peter Gabriel and others. Lanois surrounded Harris with a cast that includes Neil Young, country outlaw Steve Earle and U2 drummer Larry Mullen Jr. To listeners the album seems to represent an abrupt turn for Harris. But to Harris, Wrecking Ball is merely a bend in a winding trail.
You are seen as one of the few commercially successful champions of traditional country music. Was the decision to make this record difficult?
No, it was very natural. I love traditional country music. But I've always been out in left field. I'm going to break the rules. Even when I've done traditional country, I've tried to push the envelope. What's the point of recreating the Louvin Brothers' music or the Carter Family's music if you can't bring something new to it?
This album just felt right, to me as we did it. I couldn't imagine what it would end up sounding like—I never can—but I knew Daniel would have a big influence on its sound.
Do you feel pangs of guilt at straying from traditional country music?
No, none. I still love the Carter Family. I'm still a vice president of the Country Music Foundation.
Have your traditionalist friends been puzzled by the record?
Not so far. That could happen! But I never felt I had to play one specific type of music.
- Contributors:
- David Hiltbrand,
- Jeremy Helligar,
- Tom Gliatto,
- Tony Scherman.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
