Hopeful despair message is Everclear

"Songs From An American Movie, Vol. One: Learning How to Smile;" Everclear; Capitol.

Everclear`s brand of pop music is of the intelligent sort. Lyrics have an ironic sensibility, but are never too acerbic and the catchy riffs somehow narrowly manage to escape being trite. "Songs From An American Movie, Vol. One: Learning How to Smile" is the Portland, Ore.,-based trio`s fourth release and in it the group goes far to sustain their image as a highly likable hybrid rock/pop band.

Each of these 12 tracks betrays a sort of hopeful despair. Art Alexakis` lyrics convey the sense that growing up is painful and relationships are rocky, but the delightfully upbeat pop sound lends a sense of optimism to the music. The album`s vibe gently switches back and forth from sweet nostalgia to comical parody to sadness and regret. But Alexakis (the group`s recognized leader) never wanders too far into the darkness. In the retro "AM Radio," the band revisits the "good old days" of `70s pop music complete with liberal sampling from Jean Knight`s 1971 hit "Mr. Big Stuff."

In the group`s current hit single, "Wonderful," satire mixes with nostalgia and produces a bittersweet feeling. Alexakis sings, "I want the things that I had before/ like a Star Wars poster on my bedroom door," and it doesn`t feel sappy. Even when Alexakis dumps his emotional baggage at your feet, it`s more sweet than sad. There`s something lovely about "Annabella`s Song," a track written for a daughter who doesn`t get to see her father often enough. The deliciously tender tune is sung over an orchestral accompaniment. Plus, Everclear`s musical arrangements are just diverse enough to sustain interest. For example, there`s some sweet ukulele playing in "The Honeymoon Song," an absurdly appropriate Public Enemy sample in "Here We Go Again," and a harder-hitting punk-thrash sound in "Now That It`s Over."

Everclear plans on releasing "Songs from An American Movie: Part Two" in the fall. The album will be comprised of harder tracks more in tune with the band`s punk roots. And, in a way, that`s too bad. This record falls short of spectacular because Everclear`s harder edges are missing. Then again, this imperfection is a great selling point for this fall`s release, thus proving just how smart these three fellows really are.

"Wishville"; The Catherine Wheel; Sony.

The Catherine Wheel took a four-year hiatus before releasing "Wishville," their fifth album. Perhaps the British band was too depressed to make it to the recording studio: "Wishville" is steeped in angst, sadness and bitter wisdom. The result is an uneven mix of dramatic tracks that get bogged down in a haze of despair. The band`s brand of rock is wonderfully lush. Tracks are layered with electric chords, rich keyboards, and darkly plodding drums. And the first four of these seven tracks are drenched in guitar-rock adornment.

"Sparks are Gonna Fly," the first track on the album, features tense electric licks, pulse-pounding drums and jaded lyrics like "I`m living in fits/can`t get myself ripped." This is The Catherine Wheel at its high-energy best. As the album progresses, however, a depression creeps in. In the bass-heavy, plodding "Gasoline," a feeling of resignation creeps in. You hear "the feeling does me in/ But here I go again." In "Lifeline," depression makes its first brain-numbing appearance: "spilled out my guts again/ think I might lay down again." By the fourth track, "What We Want to Believe In," you`re tired of the drama and so is the album. (Although, the group at its worst is still far superior to the simplified guitar rock being produced by the unimpressive likes of, say, blink 182.)

The second half of the album contains some lighter tracks: There`s "All of That," a light, funky, percussion-driven song that sounds like it stepped off an early-era Peter Gabriel album, and a couple of forgettable pop/rock ballads. The final song of the album, "Creme Caramel," is a gem. The track contains intoxicating poetics, a sexy refrain, and uses gorgeous phrases like "your wedding-night thighs" to compare a sweet dessert with an overripe love affair. Unfortunately, the album feels overripe, too.

(c) Copley News Service

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Author: Emily Friedlander