ABC’s second record was a radical departure from the disco operetta that was The Lexicon of Love. This time, they decided to ROCK, and the public, as a whole, didn’t buy it. Too bad, because this was better than the records of any of their synth pop contemporaries who attempted the same thing (The Human League’s Hysteria and Spandau Ballet’s Through the Barricades, for example). Lyrically, it sounds like singer Martin Fry had been drinking with Billy Bragg a bit too much, but Beauty Stab showed they could tackle other genres of music with relative ease. "If I Ever Thought You’d Be Lonely," for example, could have been an outtake from Roxy Music’s Flesh & Blood sessions, while "The Power of Persuasion" beat The Clash at their own game. ***

Here you see a band with a clear sense of songwriting but with a massive identity complex. Then again, following up 1982’s masterful Lexicon of Love is a tough job for anybody. First they try rocking out, on 1983’s Beauty Stab, and that doesn’t fare well. This time, they try something a little more commercially viable, like up to the minute dance music. It scored them a couple hits, but also dated them terribly. "Be Near Me" is a wonderful love song no matter what format they would have chosen to do it in, but others, like "Ocean Blue," don’t lend themselves to this new sound the way they would have in a Lexicon-ish manner. ABC seemed so intent on staying ahead of itself that it never asked the obvious question: Why are we doing this? ***

If you were listing one hit wonders of the ‘80s alphabetically, this would probably be your first entry. Their groundbreaking video for "Take on Me" sent these Norwegians into the stratosphere, and they came crashing down almost as quickly. Hunting High and Low, while covered with that slick ‘80s pop sheen that can almost choke a person, actually had some solid pop songcraft, but an almost equal amount of fluff. I’d argue that "The Sun Always Shines on TV," the follow up single to "Take on Me," was far superior to their signature hit. ***

Those video poster boys from 1985 strike while the iron is hot and put out their second record in fourteen months, and how quickly fourteen months can kill an up and coming band. A-ha ventured for a fuller sound with Scoundrel Days (though the album is still covered with that slick ‘80s production that I must confess I love), and got it about half right. The singles from this album were just as good as the hits they had from their debut Hunting High and Low. "Manhattan Skyline" is one of the most underrated songs of the ‘80s, with huge shifts in tempo and some gui-TAR, dude! But the little girls had moved on, and left A-ha in the dust. Not as bad as you would think, but also not the stuff of greatness, either. Their tour to support Scoundrel Days, for the record, was sponsored by Prell (Thanks to Artie Forgett for that nugget of trivia) ** ½

Better than I had any right to expect, after putting out two pretty forgettable albums (1988’s Stay on These Roads and 1991’s East of the Sun, West of the Moon). There’s barely a sign of the band that made "Take on Me" in terms of sound. This album sounds more like U2, with big, spacious drums backed by loops, and lots more input from guitarist and main songwriter Pal Waakatar. If anything is constant, it’s Morten Harket’s soaring tenor, which is still a voice to reckon with. None of the songs here will make a Top ten list, but it’s not bad, either. ***

Duran Duran spinoff Arcadia, consisting of Simon LeBon, Nick Rhodes and drummer Roger Taylor, explores some new ground for the Fab Five while also subconsciously retreading some old ground. "Election Day" was the big hit from this album, and it sounds right in line with Duran’s material from Seven and the Ragged Tiger. But the more rewarding tracks are the ones that stray the farthest from conventional Duran, like "The Promise," featuring Sting on backing vocals. Take a second look at the lyrics here, though: it lends tremendous credence to Pat Boone’s comments that Duran were Satanic. "Oh, El Diablo, El Diablo, won’t you sell me back my soul?" Simon, is there something you want to tell the rest of the class? ***

Less a debut than a greatest hits album (the songs contained here are rerecorded versions of songs the band had previously released in their native Canada), Gordon is nonetheless one of the best pop albums of the ‘90s. Once you get past singer Steven Page’s uncanny resemblance to former Housemartins crooner Paul Heaton (a fact that was not lost on the band, since they sing the chorus to the Housemartins song "Happy Hour" in Gordon’s opening track), you’ll find some of the best toe tapping, be bopping, laugh your ass off funny songs ever compiled. Their love song "Be My Yoko Ono" is insanely clever, and the Yoko impression the boys do in its bridge nearly made me drive off the road, I was laughing so hard. Wonderful, wonderful stuff. ****

Let the maturation process begin. Barenaked Ladies, massive stars in their native Canada but only fringe artists in the States, hire kd lang collaborator Ben Mink to produce their second album, and the results are good and not so good. The good is that they wrote some great songs, the not so good is that Mink seemed to rule over the boys like a really strict headmaster and stifled what little humor the album had, which is a BNL trademark. (The song "A," for example, wound up being rather dour when it could have been up with "Be My Yoko Ono" or "Grade 9" on the laugh scale) Still, there are some classic BNL songs here, like the wistful opener "Jane," the very witty "Life, In a Nutshell," with one of the best lines I’ve ever heard ("When she was three/Her Barbies always did it on the first date"). A much better album in retrospect, when compared to the material that followed. *** ½

BNL reteams with Gordon producer Michael Philip Wojewoda in an attempt to recapture some of the old crazy magic, but they’re sorely lacking in the tunes department. BNL keyboardist Andrew Creggan left the band between Pirate Ship and their last album, Maybe You Should Drive, and while he wasn’t a major songwriting contributor, it seems BNL is missing something. The songs aren’t as clever, or catchy, or fun. There are some diamonds in the rough, though, namely "Straw Hat and Old Dirty Hank," a demented love song to a movie star from a member of her fan club who thinks that she’s in love with him. But overall I found this album a disappointment. ** ½

Well, they finally did it. After slowly building a massive fan base from their spectacular live shows, the Ladies strike gold in the US. Their vehicle to Arenaland: "One Week," an insanely catchy pop/rap/skat song that may be a novelty to some but is certainly worthy of the airplay. The good news about Stunt is that it’s better than their last album, Born on a Pirate Ship. There are at least three more potential hits in the wings, my favorite being "Alcohol," an ode to the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems (Thank you, Homer Simpson). The chorus: "I love you more/Than I did the week before/I discovered alcohol." The bad news about Stunt is that the second half of the album tanks considerably, and dips even lower than the lowest of previous efforts. "Never Is Enough," for example, is a song for Slacker Sesame Street, with the most saccharine arrangement BNL has ever done. I’m thrilled for the band that they’ve finally achieved the success they have deserved. But one "One Week" per album is not going to sustain them. ***

Coming in at the tail end of the Manchester scene and getting unfortunately lumped in with the "baggy" sound (I’m still not sure what that means), Blur had some quick success with the jumpy "There’s No Other Way," a three minute slice of modern psychedelic dance pop. However, what made that song such a hit is what kills the rest of the album, which starts to blend together after the fifth track. A nice idea, but it needs a little more personality. ***

With two years and a dump truck full of drugs and booze behind them, Blur settles down and records the splendid Modern Life is Rubbish, a huge wake up call to the UK scene that it’s time to fight back against the overwhelming American grunge scene. Singer Damon Albarn sound like he’s been listening to his Kinks records a little more closely, and creates some very interesting characters in songs like "Colin Zeal" ("Looks at his watch/He’s on time, yet again") and the album’s opening track, "For Tomorrow," with its instant hook "La la, la lala" chorus. Modern Life was largely overlooked by the UK press, mainly because Blur had played a bunch of gigs blasted out of their skulls. The press, ever eager to proclaim the Next Big Thing, ousted Blur in favor of Suede (Whoops-Revisionist History Ed.). They must not have listened to this record at all, because it’s painfully clear that Blur had grown exponentially between 1991’s Leisure and this. Guitarist Graham Coxon had come out of his shell and made a run for the title of Johnny Marr of the ‘90s, with equal parts fluid melodies and abrasive guitar attacks. And Albarn’s songs were miles above anything he had ever done. Smarter, tighter, and sober, Blur tapped into their potential on Modern Life and started a musical revolution in the process. **** ½

Here is where Blur gets tangled in their own web. Growing by leaps and bounds in a very short period of time (eight months passed in between 1993’s Modern Life is Rubbish and 1994’s Parklife), Blur found themselves the torchbearers to the resurgent Brit Pop scene in the UK, which wound up being both blessing and curse. Damon’s goal with Modern Life was to kill baggy, and that they did. The goal of Parklife was to kill grunge, and that they did (at least in the UK). The goal of The Great Escape, it seems, was to try to keep from getting trampled by the many Brit Pop bands right behind them. The end result finds Blur not losing any ground, but not particularly gaining any, either. With so many influences prevalent on Parklife (Clash, Jam, Bowie, Who, REM), the only obvious move was to go even further out on the ledge. Some of the results are wonderful ("Fade Away," with its Specials-type horn section, and "He Thought of Cars," whose sliding guitars give the song an otherworldly quality to it). Others were extensions of things that had already gone far enough (the megahit "Country House" is simply too much oom-pah, and "Mr. Robinson’s Quango" is British horns and fop with no hook). Not a disappointment by any means, but it was clear after The Great Escape that Blur had unwittingly painted itself into a corner. ****

Damon Albarn & Co. tear down the Brit Pop house that they built, and get a new lease on life in the process. Albarn, who had been so busy slagging all things American while also desperately trying to break through in the States, starts listening to some American bands (namely Pavement) and decides to strip things down a bit. And when I say a bit I mean, a lot. Low fi mixing, distorted bass lines and layer upon layer of noise make Blur’s fifth album a very challenging listen for fans expecting another song like "Girls and Boys." But the songs are there, they’re just a little harder to find. The opener, "Beetlebum," is a nice mix between old and new Blur, with trademark harmonies and a Beatlesque chorus, but also a more direct sound and guitars, guitars, guitars. "Song 2" sounds like a song Kurt Cobain would have written if he had a sense of humor, with its "Woo hoo!!" chorus and deep, fuzzy bass riff. "Look Inside America" is Albarn’s attempt to apologize for Parklife’s "Magic America," and it would have worked if it didn’t already sound so much like Parklife’s "End of a Century." All in all, this album gave Blur the ability to go wherever they want with the next album (I’ve heard they’re working on a musical), but there was a price for their transgressions. *** ½

Perhaps the best way to describe this group of New York art students is to say they were the Archies of modern rock, which admittedly seems like an oxymoron. Their songs were massive club staples (especially the ones I was DJing in), yet they were simple, even stupid, at a time when modern rock prided itself on being way smarter than Top 40 radio. As timely (read: dated) as their records were, the band didn’t really sound like anyone else, which gave them an edge. When it comes down to it, though, the key to dance bands is how good the tunes are, and Book of Love is filled with hooks from start to finish, like them or not. ****

The big boys of England’s "electronica" scene (God, I hate that word), the Chemicals delivered a huge kick in the ass to clubs in late 1996 with "Setting Sun," a semi-remake of the Beatles’ "Tomorrow Never Knows," with Oasis’ Noel Gallagher on vocals. Psychedelic, hypnotic, and harder than any rock band of late, the Chemicals raised the bar for dance music as a whole. It’s too bad only half of Dig Your Own Hole can match it. But the half that is good (The outrageously funky "Block Rocking Beats," "Where Do I Begin," featuring William Orbit cohort Beth Orton), is REALLY good. Anyone not into dance music, however, should stay far away from this one. *** ½

Neil Finn, former lead singer of New Zealand’s late, great Split Enz, fronts a new band and keeps it simple on this stunning debut album. Beating Paul McCartney and even Chris Difford and Glenn Tilbrook at their own game, Crowded House delivers hook after hook after devastating hook in songs like "World Where You Live," which easily could have been a Squeeze outtake. "Love You til the Day I Die," the closest the band gets to its former self, slinks with the subversive zaniness of the Enz’s "Dirty Creature." And "Hole in the River," a harrowing tale of a belated relative, is remarkable. One of the best albums of the ‘80s, easily. **** ½

There are a whole slew of Depeche tribute albums by lesser known bands, but this time the band gets done right, sort of, by some pretty big stars. The album starts with Smashing Pumpkins’ version of "Never Let Me Down Again," which was actually recorded during the Siamese Dream sessions in 1993. It’s a lot quieter than you would expect, which is too bad, because they could have given this song the real rock edge it already has. Other noteworthy efforts are Failure’s Nirvana-ish remake of "Enjoy the Silence," and Hooverphonic’s slinky take on "Shake the Disease." Others, sadly, missed the mark completely. Dishwalla got on this compilation because their label released the album, not because they had any unique ideas for "Policy of Truth," and German death metalers Rammstein sound just silly trying to remake "Stripped." The finest moment is hearing one classic modern rock band cover another, when The Cure turn in a nice techno pop cover of "World in my Eyes." It’s pretty faithful to the original, but the sentiment behind it is touching. ***

Like the rest of the world, I had sold Thomas Dolby far, far shorter than this, a surprisingly solid album that ranks among his best. Dolby dropped the loony scientist gimmick and got serious, and while he was at it recruited Eddie Van Halen, Jerry Garcia and Eddi Reader, sister of head Trash Can Sinatra Frank Reader. The result is a wiser, more palatable Dolby, though he still likes to let loose, as he does on "Eastern Bloc," a sequel to his 1983 song "Europa and the Pirate Twins." Listen to this album, and watch your preconceived notion of Dolby as propellerhead fly out the window. Damn, the man’s human after all. *** 1/2

Going back to their roots and also embracing the new technology at the same time, Duran wound up with a split personality on their ninth studio album. Some songs work fabulously well ("Midnight Sun" ranks among their best), some didn’t (the first single, "Electric Barbarella," was most uninspired and as a result sounded desperate). Given that they had just lost long time bassist John Taylor in the middle of recording, I think the boys fared pretty well. They may be down, but never count them out. ***

For a music scene that was best known for its heavy dance beat, it’s kind of ironic that 808 State were the only Manchester band that used machines. But there were other reasons 808 were in the pack with the Stone Roses, the Charlatans and Happy Mondays. While their songs were mostly instrumentals, there was a distinct verse-chorus-verse structure that most "techno" artists tend to avoid. After breaking through with "Pacific," a galloping dance track that was light as air yet had considerable thump, 808 return with Exel, a stronger, tighter, and altogether better album than their debut Utd. State 90. They get some vocal help from New Order’s Bernard Sumner on "Spanish Heart," which sounds like an Electronic outtake, and BjØ rk turns up twice, notably on the spacey "Ooops." With songs that are incredibly high energy ("In Yer Face," rave fave "Leo Leo") and quiet and ambient ("Nefertiti," "Empire"), 808 State are a dance band with a rock band mentality, and they have some of the freshest sounding tracks techno has ever seen. ****

Leading the highly touted but short lived New Wave of New Wave, Elastica were like a cross between Blondie and Husker Dò , mixing very danceable pop songs about strong women with occasional blinding speed. Brash, sassy and incredibly succinct (few tracks reach the three minute mark), Elastica was a nice upbeat change of pace in a scene that was getting dangerously foppish. Worth getting solely for "Connection," a classic piece of old school punk pop. *** ½

A modern rock supergroup, consisting of core members Berbard Sumner of New Order and Johnny Marr of the Smiths, with guest contributor Neil Tennant of the Pet Shop Boys. The laws of rock dictate that when members of well known groups get together to do an album, the whole is never greater than the sum of its parts (Asia, GTR, RTZ). However, this one came out quite well, easily better than the last New Order album, 1988’s Technique. It is a little keyboard heavy, which seems a real shame when your band consists of one of the best guitarists of the last ten years. But with blissful pop songs like "Getting Away with It," it’s a small price to pay. *** 1/2

Talk about a dream idea for me: Multi-instrumentalist Ben Watt, along with Tracey Thorn, who could sing me the phone book with that dreamy alto, receive some backup from an orchestra and create one of the best housecleaning albums ever. Recently put back in print after the success of their 1994 smash "Missing," this album is a must have for all EBTG fans. ****

Ferry finds a dream partner in veteran producer Patrick Leonard (Madonna, Julian Lennon) and delivers his best solo outing to date. Smiths guitar god Johnny Marr lent Ferry the Smiths instrumental "Money Changes Everything," and Ferry turned it into the diva wailing "The Right Stuff." Ferry’s at his best when he’s accepted his position as a slave to love, and in songs like "Day For Night" and "The Name of the Game" (How could I know her madness’d cling/From the time of the first caress to the final fling"), he knows all too well that wherever he drops to his knees and begs for more, that’s his home. *** ½

The first album by FYC’s Roland Gift, Andy Cox and Dave Steele was a hell of a debut. Former English Beat members Cox and Steele bring their perky bass lines and skittish guitar licks along with them, but Gift’s soaring tenor adds that one thing the Beat never messed with much: soul. They showed tremendous nerve by covering Suspicious Minds, one of Elvis’ most revered songs, and then they go one better by outdoing the original (a bold statement, I know. Perhaps I should qualify it by saying I’m not much of an Elvis fan), with former Bronski Beat singer Jimmy Somerville adding wonder backing vocals. The originals that surround it, like "Johnny Come Home" and the devastating "Funny How Love Is," were just as solid. *** ½

Stunning debut from this North Carolina trio, who showed the world that you don’t need a guitar to rock, but a kickass piano player certainly doesn’t hurt. Backed by arguably the best rhythm section in music, Folds whacks the keys with reckless abandon and decides not to take the easy and all too trendy road of singing angry songs. If anything, Folds is a realist, being optimistic ("Philosophy"), but yet knowing how the world works ("The Last Polka," a painfully detailed song about the end of a relationship). With musical links to The Beatles, Jellyfish and Joe Jackson, Ben Folds Five gave modern rock the kick in the ass it desperately needed after three years of mope metal. ****