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Supercoolnothing 16 Volt (Slipdisc/Mercury) Of related interest: Filter, Nihil, Marilyn Manson It is the job of publicists to insist that their acts have a singular vision, that their albums are at the forefront of a unique crusade. But even the best flesh-presser has gotta gag when he reads that ex-Portlanders 16 Volt are "difficult to pigeon hole and...their sound is their own." Supercoolnothing contains little that would vindicate such a statement. The whisper-to-shout vocals are a tainted shot of Trent Reznor from an overused syringe, the guitars are painted with a scrawny brush Ministry threw away 10 years ago, and the "futuristic" sequences wouldn't fly on a bargain-basement Sega game. It's AC/DC plus NIN divided in half, and according to music-industry mathematics, that equals $, nothing more. Unlike the genuinely freaky Marilyn Manson, who pulls similar musical stunts, main Volter Eric Powell is just a rocker draped in the emperor's newest clothes. The shiny threads running through Supercoolnothing are transparently fashionable and irritating as a hair shirt. Forget pigeonholes--this DOA release should worry more about digging its own grave. John Graham War & Peace, Vol. 1 (The War Disc) Ice Cube (Priority) Of related interest: Mack 10, Westside Connection Few hip-hop artists have told tales of the streets as eloquently as Ice Cube, one of the originators of "gangsta" rap. Ten years ago he observed crack's inundation of South Central Los Angeles and responded with "Dopeman," making white America aware of the drug's devastation of the inner city. As the pen behind N.W.A.'s classic "Fuck Tha Police," Cube broadcast to the world what the gang in blue was doing to brothers on the streets long before the Rodney King incident. After a highly publicized break with N.W.A., Ice Cube hooked up with Public Enemy and dropped the Bomb Squad-influenced Amerikkka's Most Wanted, one of the dopest albums in the history of hip-hop. He made it to the mountain top with Death Certificate, prophesying the L.A. riots, the demise of corny rappers like Young MC and the expansion of the crack game into middle America. Ice Cube's successful transition from rapper to screenwriter, director, producer and actor has changed him considerably. Now that he's Hollywood, we know he's not a gangsta. His return to the microphone after a five-year break, War & Peace Vol. 1 (the War Disc), is a disappointment. Cube's aggressive flow doesn't mesh too well with the lifeless beats he, N.O. Joe and Bud'da put down. When a track leaps out and slams you, like the illiotic "Fuck Dying," featuring metal band Korn, you're hyped for the next cut, only to be let down by the blandness of the joint. Cube's guests make the album worse. Mr. Short Khop ruins the bangin' single "Pushin' Weight" with his booty-ass delivery, and Mack 10's appearance on "The Curse of Money" is a joke. The political stabs at the California penal system ("Extradition," "3 Strikes You In" and "Penitentiary") are vintage Cube, but they do not make up for the bullshit strewn throughout the CD. If Vol. 2 (the Peace Disc), due in early '99, is just as miserable as Vol. 1, Cube should give up the mic piece and stick to making flicks. H.V. Claytor Jr. Spirit Jewel (Atlantic) Of related interest: John Denver, Alanis Morrisette, Jack Handey "Just like the girls today with nothing to say/they have their eyes on a bigger prize/you claim innocence/and reinvent your name/to you its all roses, it's a lavender haze/and like cattle we all stand/doesn't matter what side it lands on if it's someone else's dime/Venus de Milo in her half-baked shell/show me the meaning of mercy/move out of the way/let your words enslave no one/There's no room inside this heart of mine/to embrace the faceless/and useless in times like these/we have to demand more/for someone must stand up for what's right/find some rhythm in this madness/rally your cry/there is a new army coming and we are armed with faith/we all want to find a way to beat the system/oh, I know the end must be drawing near/just like the girls today with nothing to say/and who will save your soul/'cause the chains which once held us are only the chains which we've made/and dreams last for so long, even after they're gone." Words by Jewel Kilcher, lyric montage by Jay Sanders
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