Heard Here

Elliot Smith

Figure 8

Elliot Smith is a crafty songwriter, an admirable guitarist, and, most importantly, a swooner. This much we already knew. What you may not have known, however, is that Elliot Smith just got a little bit smarter - at least it sounds that way. Produced by Tom Rothrock, Rob Schnapf and the king of misery himself, Figure 8 is by far the cleanest Smith album to date, virtually flawless in sound, style and content, upping this little boy-turned-manchild further into rock stardom than even his 1998 Academy Awards performance could have foreseen.

Floating from track to track, Figure 8 plays like the best of Smith's past efforts. While XO, his Dreamworks debut, was Smith's first real venture into marketable rock, his latest boasts the quieter acoustic ballads as well as some more standard pop songs. The opening track, "Son of Sam" hooks in the listener with clean cut chords, anthem lyrics and clangy piano too good for even the best of ivory ticklers. From the sound of it, you'd almost think Elliot Smith was happy.

Almost.

Fast forward to "Everything Reminds Me of Her," or, better yet, "Everything Means Nothing To Me," and you're immediately transported back to Smith's familiar realm of never-ending woes oh-so true to our own lives, seemingly unfixable and interminably nihilistic. Both songs end with Smith's tactic for driving lyrics to the core by repeating them until we're singing them in our sleep, but so long as there are 14 other solid tracks to explore, it's safer to go through the motions and take the album for what it really is: a remarkably well-produced epic of sad, sad songs, not to mention the most attractive packaging we've seen from the lonely Portlander yet.

Figure 8 may lack the heart wrenching simplicity of songs on his self-titled Kill Rock Stars release, but it does have its sweet moments. On a more rollicking note, "Stupidity Tries," its phased-out, treble-heavy guitar parts paired against driving drum builds (and strings, even), is one of the best on the album.

But with such a remarkable collection of songs, it's difficult to single-out the winners. Elliot Smith has out-done himself again. While mastering what tendencies of commercial potential he had with XO, the singer has managed to tone-down his songs to something more tangible for his long-time fans without stunting his progress as an artist. Figure 8 has given Smith the freedom to revert back to his old self, only he's long-since outgrown his four-track.

- Lauren Viera

Pink Floyd

Is There Anybody Out There?: The Wall Live 1980-81

It has been 17 long years since Pink Floyd released The Final Cut, their last collaboration with former frontman Roger Waters; since that time, the surviving trio of David Gilmour, Richard Wright and Nick Mason has produced two collections of geriatric rock (Momentary Lapse of Reason, The Division Bell) and a couple of unnecessary live albums (Delicate Sound of Thunder, Pulse) to accompany their overblown stadium tours. All the while, Waters has wallowed in relative obscurity, laying a few musical eggs of his own (Radio KAOS, Amused to Death) and touring with armies of backup singers and assorted studio hacks who have effectively bludgeoned the music that once made Waters a star. Needless to say, the past two decades have not been kind to the Pink Floyd legacy, a legacy filled with clashing egos and petty disputes over cash and copyrights.

Nevertheless, the members of Pink Floyd have temporarily put aside their grievances in a slick attempt to make a quick buck, and they've chosen the perfect way to do it. Having exhausted the other avenues of revenue available to aging classic rockers by releasing the obligatory boxed set (Shine On) and a string of greatest hits collections, the band has returned with its third live album in the last 12 years, Is There Anybody Out There? And though it's disappointing to see gifted songwriters like Waters and Gilmour coasting on the strength of their past glories, fans can take comfort from the fact that Out There captures Floyd not during some half-baked nostalgia tour, but during the epic tour that followed the 1979 release of their final masterpiece, The Wall.

Culled from a series of shows in London and Long Island, Out There boasts strong renditions of all the Wall classics, from radio-friendly hits like "Another Brick in the Wall Part 2" to lesser known numbers like "Vera." To be sure, much of the album is painfully faithful to the sound of the original Wall, but the band's on-stage passion is obvious, especially during the quieter moments when Waters steals the show with his pleading vocals and his pounding bass. (For his part, Gilmour chimes in with a few brilliantly improvised solos, especially on an extended version of "Young Lust.") In this fashion, Floyd has returned with their first winning album in years; let's just hope it's not their last.

- Rossiter Drake

Various Artists

Music From and Inspired by Jesus, The Epic Mini-Series

Luckily this album claims to be inspired by a television program and not by Jesus himself, because the son of God would be one unhappy savior if he stopped to think that he died on the cross for this pathetic excuse of a record. After all, Music From and Inspired by Jesus is nothing more than a manipulative, spiritually bankrupt marketing ploy, featuring a sorry collection of washed-up musicians getting paid lots of money to sing about Christianity and its favorite son.

To be fair, Jesus The Epic Mini-Series may be an incredible show, but the album that it inspired is not the epic album that one would hope for. Boasting such well-respected artists as D.C. Talk, 98š, and everybody's favorite, Hootie and the Blowfish (who play an awe-inspiring song called "City By a River"), this album seems full of promise, and, as one might expect, full of praise for the legendary savior. And sure enough, on the heartfelt "Jesus, He Loves Me," Edwin McCain delivers the goods. "Son of God, our Savior and King," he croons, "You're taking away/the sins of the world/so I'll raise my voice and sing." That's all well and good, but perhaps McCain should have paused to consider the fact that his obvious lyrical imagery and his perfunctory efforts are an insult to the memory of a man who once tranformed water into wine.

The album begins with "Jesus - Theme From the Original Soundtrack," performed by Patrick Williams. This song is huge in every sense of the word, an enlightening mixture of dramatic strings and progressive-rock synthesizers. Sadly, the album then turns into a horrifying mixture of light rock and light hip-hop, two genres that have a special place in hell just waiting for them. Surprisingly, they combine to make an incredibly weak album! You know it's sad but true.

So the next time you head down to the local record store, think twice before you pick up a copy of Music From and Inspired by Jesus, The Epic Mini-Series. It's not what you might expect. Or maybe it is what you'd expect: a bunch of terrible songs about the Christian savior that are embarrassing enough to make Jerry Falwell blush. But if that's what you want, just go out and buy a D.C. Talk album, because Jesus himself would have found it difficult to transform this album into anything more than what it already is - an unholy pile of shit.

- Tyler Kord

Sarge

Distant

Few bands can get away with successfully releasing albums posthumously. The Beatles got away with it. The Who got away with it. Closer to home, both Braid and Jawbreaker got away with it in the last year, each piecing together quality live and previosly-unreleased collections long after they'd outgrown their respective heydays.

But Sarge? Granted, the band played more shows in their four years as a post-punk outfit than most, but therein lies the band's beauty: Sarge was always more charming live than recorded. Distant is just too easy to be called a final hurrah, and fans eager for new material in this collection may be disappointed. The opener, "Detroit Star-lite," is a good pop song but pales in comparison to classics like "Half as Far" and "the first morning," both of which are unfortunately rough live cuts. Singer Elizabeth Elmore's disclaimer explains, "Had I known they'd eventually be released, I might have tried to sing a little more in tune." Instead, listeners are spoon-fed an imitation of the real thing plus a few silly covers (was "Last Christmas" really that great of a song the first time around?), which Sarge just barely pulls off, if only by acting as cute as they know they are.

Sure, Distant will probably be a collector's item some day; file it next to the rest of the live bootlegs from the band's respectable touring days. If show cred could be traded in for studio triumph, Sarge would have this one nailed. It's just too bad the band members quit their night jobs.

- Lauren Viera