Now this is more like it. The Glimmer Twins have finally stopped trying to prove they're still the leaders of the greatest rock-and-roll band in the world and are merely embracing their gnarled, deeply entrenched R&B roots.
Before this collection of mostly acoustic reworkings of old chestnuts reaches a comfy cruising altitude, it has to get through some turbulence: On "Like a Rolling Stone," Jagger apes Bob Dylan unflatteringly, throwing in some off-key harmonica riffs to boot. The band and its fine supporting cast find their groove, however, on a remake of "Shine a Light" (from Exile on Main Street) and the creepy, crawly blues number "The Spider and the Fly." Guitarist Ron Wood peels off particularly luscious licks on "Love in Vain," and everyone gets down-home and dirty on Willie Dixon's "Little Baby." Finally, the Stones aren't showing their age, they're acting it. (Virgin)
Oleta Adams
A musician of Oleta Adams's vocal and songwriting stature deserves better than this. In an apparent bid to duplicate the success of "Get Here," her 1990 breakthrough single, Adams hired producers whose resumes include work with Mariah Carey and Anita Baker. Adams has also piled her third album with the elements that make crossover R&B tick: sax interludes, quaint backup harmonies, by-the-numbers arrangements and candlelight babble like "just want to rock you in my arms in slow motion."
To her credit, Adams doesn't try luring aging hipsters with sample-happy hip-hop soul, as Carey does with her hit "Fantasy." But Adams does lull them with snoozers like "Never Knew Love," a tune that goes beyond easy-listening to easy-to-tune-out. Her burnished alto rarely gets its due; soothing and precise, it nonetheless struggles to triumph over mediocre material. Only "Life Keeps Moving On" and "Long Distance Love" offer the sort of sophisticated musical pleasures that keep Moving On moving. (Fontana/Mercury)
Tracy Chapman
When she arrived on the pop landscape in the late '80s, wielding her guitar like a weapon, Tracy Chapman quickly established herself as a folkie crusader. Seven years later, she's at it again. The problem with constantly singing about problems, though, is that it can get old fast, especially if there is little melodic or lyrical wit to compensate for so much sad content. A 7-minute song titled "The Rape of the World," about environmental atrocities, better at least be fun to sing; in this case, it's not even hummable. The album's best song, "Give Me One Reason," a wonderful bluesy ditty about tortured love, comes too late to rescue this effort. This is the right album for that one-night-in-a-thousand when you're feeling too darn happy and want to do something about it. (Elektra)
Dwight Yoakam
For my money, Dwight Yoakam is alone among today's bestselling country-music artists: He has the grit and individuality once common currency in this genre. With Gone, his sixth studio album, he and his producer Pete Anderson (who doubles as his lead guitarist) continue to widen the gap between themselves and the pack, attesting not only to Yoakam's singing and songwriting but to the virtues of teamwork. As if being country's most imaginative, flashiest lead guitarist weren't enough, Anderson is a well of ideas and tasty little fillips—a sitar here, a martial-sounding snare drum there. Yoakam, too, is stretching. Not only did he write or cowrite all 10 songs but he pushes his voice into places it has never been: the heartbroken whisper that begins "Nothing," the guttural hollers of "Near You." On "Sorry You Asked?," the tongue-in-cheek plaint of a lovelorn complainer, Yoakam pulls the plug on himself, purposefully fading out the song in mid-verse. Give Yoakam the hook? Hell, nobody else would. (Reprise)
Various Artists
British cult figure Joe Meek, the record producer who shot himself to death in 1967 at the age of 37, may finally become more than a pop-music footnote here in the States. This first U.S. compilation of the troubled producer's eccentric works features the haunting 1962 No. 1 instrumental "Telstar" by the Tornados as well as the 1964 British Invasion rocker "Have I the Right" by the Honeycombs. Meek operated from a small apartment-cum-studio in North London, where his temper and mood swings were as prominent as his primitive recording equipment. But the echo-laden, distortion-heavy sounds he committed to tape belie his budget limitations and rival, in their unique way, anything Phil "Wall of Sound" Spector ever dreamed up. (Razor & Tie)
>BIG-HATTED JERRY SPRINGER
SYNDICATED TALK SHOW HOST JERRY Springer has always been a country-music fan, but it wasn't until last summer, when he attended a Billy Ray Cyrus show in Nashville, that he realized that what makes for good Nielsen ratings also makes for good boot-stompin' fodder. Says Springer: "It occurred to me that the themes of country music are consistent with the talk show themes—broken relationships, divorce, cheatin', who slept with whose dog. Basically country is a talk show put to music." So Springer wrote "Dr. Talk," a country song about talk shows, and cut an album of the same name (Fiddlefish Music) featuring his single and seven cover tunes. Springer, 51, is due to open soon for none other than Cyrus. "What I am most worried about is remembering the words without cue cards," he says. "On the show I just talk. If I could get on stage and make up words, I would be fine. But they want you to sing the words of the song. Maybe I'll just make stuff up."
>Terry Ellis and Chynna Phillips
LIVING SINGLE
Although Wilson Phillips' Chynna Phillips and En Vogue's Terry Ellis live on opposite sides of the country (New York City and Oakland, respectively), they have been leading parallel lives since 1990. That year their groups had identically titled hit singles ("Hold On") and platinum debut albums. Five years later, the singers' agendas remain in sync: Earlier this month Phillips, 27, released her first solo project, Naked and Sacred (EMI), and Ellis, 29, did the same with Southern Gal (EastWest). PEOPLE recently got Ellis, who is single, and Phillips—fresh from honeymooning with actor William Baldwin—together for a chat in Manhattan.
Chynna: When we heard your "Hold On" we went, "Who are these girls?"
Terry: I have us on tape singing your song while we were getting ready for a show one night.
Chynna: I don't like singing live. I was bred to be an actress, not a singer. Singing was just a fluke. I never knew I had a voice. I studied for seven years, even while I was in Wilson Phillips. I didn't want to make a fool of myself. I could carry a note, but I had no strength. I didn't know about middle or high, I didn't know about any of that. Terry: I still don't. I have no clue. I need to take voice lessons. My sister had me listen to singers and would say, "When she gets ready to hit that high note, or her voice gets louder, she takes a deep breath." That's all I know.
Chynna: We just vacationed. Will you?
Terry: It's not in sight, and I don't need one. I can just go and go and go.
Chynna: You find play in your work, and that's nice. I need an hour where I do nothing but watch TV, play Scrabble or read. I need to have my fun time because, for me, working is work.
- Contributors:
- Andrew Abrahams,
- Jeremy Helligar,
- Peter Castro,
- Tony Scherman,
- Randy Vest,
- Bryan Alexander.
