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Eyediscs: February 8, 1995

Kylie Minogue
Kylie Mongue
Eponymous

When an artist puts out a self-titled album, it’s supposed to invoke fear in the listener. It’s a sign that they mean business. So, after making several forgettable albums of pop tofu, this helium-voiced Aussie’s latest offering has a little more teeth.

This is amore mature Minogue. Either that, or someone finally yanked her songwriters out of the dregs of ’80s pop. Regardless, the tunes reveal some uncharacteristic depth by way of Eastern influences and New Age coloration. The mixes—all pretty danceable, I guess—are one again in the hands of very capable producers, which means they’re infectious without being life-affirming. Minogue could be just as big as Janet Jackson; in fact, I’d prefer it. Minogue’s material is strong enough that she doesn’t have to succumb to a stupid dance schtick in order to divert from an utter lack of melody in her music.

Interesting, cuts on this album are “Surrender,” which won’t make you convert religions, but may make you do something impulsive like dry-shaving. “Dangerous Game” is noteworthy just because it sounds like Mariah Carey mets Gershwin at a small cafe and both decide to pop into a small Baptist church to sing gospel with Aretha Franklin before taking a romantic walk on the beach. Hey, if you’re dealing in improbables, you might as well go the whole nine yards.

– Andre Mayer

The Roots
Do You Want More?
Geffen

Just to make sure you know exactly what to expect from this album, the first track opens with “You are all about to witness some organic hip-hop jazz, 100 per cent groove and you don’t stop. It’s from The Roots, Philadelphia based rap group…”

From song 19 (subtract 17 from the back of the CD to figure out which track actually appears on your CD player) this album sounds more organic than fresh alfalfa; the Roots have advanced the art of mixing live instruments, samples and vocals. At first, it’s easy to categorize The Roots as an amalgamation of A Tribe Called Quest and Digable Planets, but upon deeper listenening to the standup bass, occasional bagpipes (?!!!) and intelligent lyrics, The Roots cannot be dismissed as copycats—only creators of their own finely raked organic musical garden.

The Roots truly dig in their kick back and groove tune like “Mellow My Man,” “Lazy Afternoon,” “You Ain’t Fly,” and “Silent Treatment.” If you already own some Tribe, Planets or Ronny Jordan, or if you need an introduction, plant The Roots in your music machine! To answer the title: you’ll come back wanting a heaping plateful of seconds!

– Greg Andruszczenko

Knocking Boots
148
Knocking Boots/Socan

In order for me to listen to an album it either has to be really good or really bad. This release by Motebello’s (it’s somewhere between Quebec and Ottawa) Knocking Boots falls right in the middle of the spectrum. This band is average! average! average! Unfortunately, I equate average with lame, which is a good description of the band—especially after reading the press release. The music features an overly used same old Helmet riff, Chris Cornell-type vocals and Pearl Jam drums used by hundreds of other average/lame bands. The lyrics range from pretentious (“Crawl”) to stupid (“Yeah!”), but what can you expect from a band whose cover song credits include “We’re not Gonna Take It” by Twisted Sister. After this spinning this, I decided to knock Knocking Boots out of my record collection.

– Dan Rozenson

Face to Face
The Big Choice
Polygram

There’s something vaguely familiar about Face to Face…the three-choice speed riffs, the whining wide-mouthed barks, and oh, the angst that reaches to the depths of your groins…I know! hey sound a hell of a lot like Green Day. To give FTF some credit, they are very earnest in their approach. I bet they think Green Day are a bunch of wusses, ’cause they’re not as hardcore. And, like their contemporaries, the songs are damn catchy. Not annoying catchy though. You know, saturated with jumpy riffs and wails that grow tiresome after a few listens (check Moist, Offspring, etc.) FTF can actually be enjoyed over and over again with no suicidal tendencies. The sound is reminiscent of pop punk but it somehow reaches deeper to Sex Pistols-esque noise. The songs are like sushi: raw and take getting used to but offer a nice change from a daily diet of the prepackaged norm.

– Tom McCall

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