THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, June 11, 1994 TAG: 9406100091
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: B7 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Medium
DATELINE: 940611 LENGTH:
Seal's full return comes with a new album, also titled ``Seal'' (ZTT/Sire/Warner Bros.). His sound and his continued eponymy bring Peter Gabriel to mind - which is both good and bad. Good because Gabriel's namesake records contained his best work. Bad because Seal's latest material recalls Gabriel's weaker '90s stuff.
{REST} ``Seal'' the second is less turgid than Gabriel's ``Us'' or Sting's ``Ten Summoner's Tales,'' but that's the turf the big man is plowing: Brit award-ready introspection with cliched, meaning-of-life lyrics and layers of studio gloss (here applied, as on ``Seal'' the first, by producer Trevor Horn).
Seal's lengthy songs - most between four and six minutes - are less dense than Gabriel's psychoanalytic pseudo-funk and Sting's exercises in archness. Some heady moments here display a balance between expression and restraint. Mostly, though, there's an unhealthy, adult-alternative vibe to this disc. The singer/songwriter never takes his own advice, never goes a bit mad.
- Rickey Wright
\ Boingo, ``Boingo'' (Giant) - It's been four years since the last Oingo Boingo studio release. And it sure sounds like it.
Vocalist/guitarist Danny Elfman, pointman for the art-pop troupe that has inexplicably dropped half its moniker, spent much of the downtime and some of the band's earlier years composing fantastic film and TV scores: the Grammy-grabbing ``Batman,'' ``Edward Scissorhands,'' ``The Simpsons'' and ``Nightmare Before Christmas,'' among others.
With ``Boingo,'' the group's ninth LP, Elfman expresses his grand orchestral leanings in his band's work, with mixed results.
Disc opener ``Insanity'' commences with the ominous brass tones of the ``Batman'' score, then leaps into trademark (Oingo) Boingo with layers of polyrhythmic percussion. As usual, Elfman's distinctively manic vocals cast a paranoiac vision of darkness amid everyday life. A children's choir adds to the ornate irony.
But it's downhill from there. Much of the rest consists of pedestrian, although pretty, attempts at a harder, almost funk-metal sound, reminiscent of alternative rock circa 1990.
Stellar exceptions are the acoustic-guitar based, string-swaddled ``Mary,'' a poignant ``make your own way in the world'' fable; a forceful update of the Beatles' ``I Am The Walrus''; and the brilliant 16-minute disc-closing opus ``Change,'' which mutates from a catchy pop-rocker to tribal yodeling to the swirling surrealism of an acid trip.
- Sue Smallwood
\ Indigo Girls, ``Swamp Ophelia'' (Epic)
On paper this disc seems perfect. Produced by veteran Peter Collins, the album features a slew of new compositions by these thought-provoking folk-rockers. Backing musicians include luminaries such as bassists Sara Lee and Danny Thompson, drummer Rick Marotta, violinist Lisa Germano; backup singers include Jane Siberry and the Roches.
But the album never delivers any knockout blows, and it's hard to pin down why. It sounds forced, lacking in spontaneity. It's as if the duo tried too hard to come up with a magnum opus, tried too hard to be perfect. Each song, although sporting uncluttered folklike arrangements, sounds as if it was labored over and worked to death.
There are some highlights, including the Sturm und Drang of ``Touch Me Fall'' and the lush arrangement of ``Wood Song.'' And then there's the album's dramatic closer, ``This Train,'' a spirited and emotionally wrenching song about the Holocaust, full of clever lyrical references to other songs and strong images of horror and loss.
The rest of the songs on the album are impeccably performed and recorded, but there's an overall sameness to the mix. A few minutes into each song, the mind starts to wander and instant, and sometimes unfair, comparisons are made to material from other Indigo Girls albums.
- Eric Feber
by CNB