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Never Say Never With "The Boy Is Mine" dominating the top-40 airwaves, and a second single, "Top of the World," coming on strong, Brandy's Never Say Never is a bona fide hit. The follow-up to her self-titled 1994 album, this set chronicles Brandy's coming to terms with teenage celebrity and her maturation since her debut at 15. Not surprisingly, "The Boy Is Mine" is the album's high point. Its gorgeously plucked string arrangement, sultry guest vocals from Monica and complex harmonies suggest that Brandy and company banked on this being the moneymaker. Among the rest, only the title track and a few others can compare. Brandy is most effective when her softly expressive vocals are paired with upbeat songs that have enough structure and lyrics to keep her busy. Brandy falters when she steps out with more plaintive songs and a languid delivery--"Truthfully", "Tomorrow" or the Whitney Houstonesque "One Voice" are run-of-the-mill slow jams. In videos and interviews, Brandy has expressed a desire to create a sexier, more daring image as she nears her 20s. There's a trace of that progression here, but she remains, as on her debut, true to herself. At 19, she's still semi-innocent, but by the time her next album rolls around in a few years? Hello, nasty. Jay Sanders Navy Blues I like jokes about our silly friends the Canadians as much as the next guy, but if I ever hear anyone say anything derogatory about Sloan, I'll crush 'em like a bug. The lovable Halifax quartet's been through the American industry's meat grinder over the past few years, getting dropped by Geffen after two albums and issuing its 1997 pop masterpiece, One Chord To Another, on a label that went belly-up, the Enclave. Fortunately, Sloan's own Murderecords imprint will keep the band's releases coming. On the fourth full-length, Navy Blues, the four songwriters apply their hook-bending mastery to an overt classic-rock sound, peeling off familiar riffs that echo the past work of radio faves from the Beatles to Bad Company. On the catchy first single "Money City Maniacs" (already a hit in its homeland), Sloan piles on the guitar harmonies and hand claps--hell, it's the best power-pop cut since Cheap Trick's "Surrender." I have no idea what the Sloan fellas are singin' about on tunes like "Iggy & Angus" and "Chester the Molester," but the music has so much zing that I couldn't care less. I'll also cut 'em some slack for the pillaging of the Beatles' "She's So Heavy" in the curiously similar "Seems So Heavy," which even includes a nearly note-for-note recitation of George Harrison's famous riff. These Canadians can do whatever they want; I'll stand on guard for thee. Richard Martin Qu'a--Live at the Irridium
Volume 1 After more than 40 years on the scene and nearly 100 recordings, Cecil Taylor continues to sound as fresh as ever. The most recent proof is Qu'a, a live recording of a single hour-long piece that documents the pianist's aggressive, relentless playing. With saxophonist Harri Sjöström, bassist Dominic Duval and drummer Jackson Krall at his side, Taylor spouts non-stop, schizophrenic emotion with racing non-melodic runs. His piano lines never settle on a distinct key--so good luck humming along. The strength of this recording lies not in its melodic content but in its dynamics. It's truly wonderful to hear the turbulent first 28 minutes dwindle down to a soothing rumble. Then, it's cathartic hearing that rumble rebuild itself into the frantic and fiery finale. Varying the intensity throughout the piece, spreading it over extended segments, Taylor gives meaning to the chaos. While other free-jazz dinosaurs (Pharaoh Sanders, Charlie Haden, Archie Shepp and Ornette Coleman) have gone soft with old age, Taylor keeps pushing himself further. Jeff Fuccillo
originally published September 9, 1998 |
