Audio Files

By GINA VIVINETTO, JEFF SOLOCHEK, BRIAN ORLOFF, GERRY DOYLE and JOHN BELL YOUNG

© St. Petersburg Times, published May 13, 2001

JANET JACKSON, ALL FOR YOU (VIRGIN) She's back, she's divorced, she's dressing more like a tart than ever, folks. And that's Janet Jackson circa 2001 with the brand new All for You, the first record she has released since her much-publicized split from her much-secret husband.

All for You is 74 minutes of a newly single girl exploring her sensuality, an appropriate follow-up to 1997's racy The Velvet Rope. In fact, hasn't this been little Janet's message for several years now: I'm more than Michael's sister. I don't care what my daddy thinks. I'm a vixen, I tell you. A slut.

Okay, okay, dirty girl.

Janet moans and groans on the saucy ballad Would You Mind? She gets into erotic fantasy on China Love and elsewhere finds plenty of ways to raise eyebrows and the blood pressure of old men.

But Janet's no fool, and neither are longtime cohorts Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, back in the fold to produce. That sampled Joni Mitchell loop on The Velvet Rope hit Got Til It's Gone made it huge. This time Janet taps another 1970s chanteuse: Carly Simon. Say who? Yep, the toothy diva "raps" some clever riffs from You're So Vain on Son of a Gun. And, you know what? It sounds cool!

But All for You is yet more smooth, seamless, contemporary R&B, with Puff-perfect production. That's a drag. How can a record so saturated with smutty mischief sound so sterile? Where's the grit? Throw on some old Marvin Gaye, Janet. Listen to some Prince, or any artist who knows how to blend sexuality with soul. Cripes, listen to your freaky brother Michael's early solo records. Because for all your stripping, you're still revealing nothing of yourself. Grade: B.

-- GINA VIVINETTO, Times pop music critic

DESTINY'S CHILD, SURVIVOR (COLUMBIA) Revamped as a trio, the sweet-singing Destiny's Child scores a winner with its follow-up to the Grammy-winning The Writing's on the Wall.

Survivor has a mix of infectious dance tunes (Sexy Daddy), slow grooves (a gorgeous, layered remake of the Bee Gee's Emotion) and gospel (a medley of spirituals including Jesus Loves Me). That's not to mention the power-packed leadoff songs that have smothered the airwaves, Independent Women Part I and the title track, and the newest single, a smart, sexy Bootylicious.

Of course, like most CDs, this one has some clunkers. Happy Face has a nice message about appreciating the world around you but ultimately is too chirpy. And while we're glad the members finally get along after well-publicized firings and lawsuits, it's a bit much to offer four minutes of "thank yous" and "I love yous" as an outro.

But if Survivor is any indication, Destiny's Child has what it takes to keep its star blazing bright -- the looks, the songs and most important, the voices.

Co-founder Beyonce Knowles clearly has the ambition to make it happen. She wrote all but one of the songs on the new CD and produced the whole thing. She's starring in MTV's Hip-Hopera: Carmen and steadfastly has refused to bog down the group by sniping publicly at former members and producers.

Here's looking forward to more. Grade: A-

-- JEFF SOLOCHEK, Times staff writer

BEE GEES, THIS IS WHERE I CAME IN (UNIVERSAL RECORDS) The Bee Gees used to be a great band. From their 1971 No. 1 How Can You Mend a Broken Heart through the ultimate disco recording Saturday Night Fever to the late '70s hits Tragedy and Too Much Heaven, the Bee Gees had something special. They made you dance and sing.

Their latest, This Is Where I Came In, makes you want to punch the "stop" button on your CD player. Not one song stands out, and, worse yet, not one song sounds like the Bee Gees even care anymore. It's pop of the worst kind, because the Bee Gees should know better. Save your money. Grade: D.

-- J.S.

DAVID BYRNE, LOOK INTO THE EYEBALL, (VIRGIN) Some people get bent out of shape when they hear any mention of David Byrne's music, labeling him eccentric and kooky. Some just call the former Talking Head a genius. I've always preferred the latter, but well, anybody who writes a song titled UB Jesus must be a little off-kilter.

And that's just fine. In fact, it's what makes Byrne's music so great. True, his lyrics are a bit cryptic. Byrne sings: Kiss me! Kiss me!/I can tell your name by the markings on your face/UB Jesus. Creepy, sure, but listen to the vibrant percussion marked by tribal drums or the full string section and you'll excuse all oddities. Trust me.

Look Into the Eyeball spans many genres in just under 40 minutes. Several songs, including the pretty The Revolution and Everyone's in Love With You are throwbacks to the soft-spoken sound of yesteryear (okay, the 1960s) with a simple string arrangement and Byrne's nuanced vocal delivery.

Byrne has even written a song in Spanish. Desconocido Soy, sung with moxie, features guest vocals by NRU of Caf Tacuba, Mexico's avant-garde pop darlings. Even more striking, The Great Intoxication and Like Humans Do feature mamba grooves and prove why David Byrne reigns undisputed as the king of arty pop. Grade: A-.

-- BRIAN ORLOFF, Times correspondent

KRS-ONE, SNEAK ATTACK, (KOCH) KRS-ONE has based his career on sniping at pop culture and mainstream rap. His new album, Sneak Attack, is a full frontal assault.

The cover features a picture of him dressed in SWAT team gear. And the leadoff tracks feature him blasting MCs who are all style and no substance. Hot, the album's fourth track, sticks with the theme as KRS-ONE lays waste to glitzy MTV rap with a barrage of image-piercing lyrics. They not hot/all they do is talk a lot/that's not hot/where's your respect on the block? he spits. You almost can picture him poking some gold chain-wearing, gat-toting thugster in the chest as he says it. Not that he spends the entire album deriding thoughtless rap. He has a spoken-word track about morality. He recites a poem about false pride that sounds as if it was lifted straight out of the Gospel. And throughout, he makes sure to point out that rap is something you do, and hip-hop is something you live. At times, it's less a CD and more a philosophical essay. But then, that has always been KRS-ONE's battle plan.

As a defender of conscious rap, KRS-ONE seldom has come up lacking. Sneak Attack is right on target. Grade: A

-- GERRY DOYLE, Times staff writer

SPACEHOG, HOGYSSEY (ARTEMIS) Spacehog's latest, Hogyssey, really isn't all that far from where the British group started. But in this case, that's fine.

Hogyssey is smoother than a silk purse. The band never tries to take itself too seriously, but still manages to write some songs with meaning and feeling behind them, carried by frontman Rotston Langdon's Layne Staley-esque vocals. The only time the band goes noticeably wrong is on the title track, Hogyssey, a rockin' version of Also Spracht Zarathrusta. It's a good adaptation of a classical masterpiece of the same caliber as Night on Disco Mountain.

Hogyssey might not be a trip to anywhere new or celestial. But it's an entertaining ride. GRADE: B+

-- G.D.

JAMES & JEANNE GALWAY, HOMMAGE A RAMPAL (BMG) As Shakespeare wrote, if music be the food of love, play on. That appears to be pretty much the case here. James Galway is joined by his wife, Jeanne, for roughly one-third of the works on this disc, which they dedicate to their friend, mentor and colleague, the late Jean Pierre Rampal.

It is always a pleasure to hear Galway, whose pristine playing is an object lesson in inflection, rhythmic vitality and artistic maturity. Indeed, were there some scientific means of estimation, one would likely conclude that his musicmaking is superior to the works he offers on this occasion.

The Concerto No. 7 in G by Francois Devienne (1759-1803) is a frothy affair, a rococo embroidery of periodic phrases, predictable cadences and florid flourishes which culminate in a perky polonaise. The only slightly more somber E-minor Concerto is an episodic patchwork, remarkable chiefly for the consummate skill of the flute writing. In these works all is cheerful, comfortable and unruffled; neither conflict, defiance nor irony are evoked in compositional terms, nor even sought.

By comparison, Domenico Cimarosa (1749-1801), an Italian organist whose colorful life included imprisonment for his anti-royalist activities, is positively adventuresome. The dovetailing dialogues between the two flutes of his Double Concerto divulge their secrets with a kind of affective intimacy that draws in rather than fights for the listener's attention.

No one should think that Mrs. Galway plays second fiddle to her spouse's golden flute; on the contrary, she sports a distinctive sound, not so bright as her partner's, but at once warm and subtle. More astounding still is the sheer finesse of their ensemble playing. Each is unerringly in tune with every breath the other takes. Doubling as conductor, Galway leads the London Mozart Players with equal commitment. Grade: A.

-- JOHN BELL YOUNG, Times correspondent

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