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Records: Spacehog's The Chinese AlbumCheck out The Chinese Album sound clips atThe Planet of Sound. By Daniel McGarry You can't make a living being a rock star these days. At least not the real, drug-pulsing, groupie-collecting, arena-thumping kind. Spacehog knows this. Earlier this decade, at a time when anyone with the requisite clever angst and clever guitar could land a deal, they were signed to a record contract. The transplanted Brits were in 'hog heaven, shiny young rock stars postering a New York scene. "In the Meantime" attacked playlists with a vengeance not known since their American colleagues' "Sweater Song."But, Spacehog said, big guitars aren't the thing right now. "Veronica Electronica?" Oh my heavens, please crawl back under your rock and die. But, continued Spacehog, what if our second album doesn't do it? What if we can't be rock stars anymore? Thus was born The Chinese Album. The premise: erstwhile rockers can no longer live on their trade of choice and must become Hong Kong prostitutes. Loosely structured as a soundtrack to a phantom film, The Chinese Album is easily good enough to keep the Langdon brothers off the streets; and good thing too, since they're even less attractive than our friend Veronica. The album employs piano, not too much string section, a Talking Heads sample, even guest vocals from Michael Stipe. Hasn't all this been done before? Yes and no. This isn't hard rock watered down by some wimpy Elton-esque tinkling or pretentious Oasis-y string section inserts; Spacehog integrates their fancy stuff fully. Of course, this rock isn't just hard. The first single, "Mungo City," glams its way into a soaring rock chorus before teasing around a computer for a few lines--with more success and less self-indulgence than Radiohead's abortive "Fitter, Happier." "2nd Avenue" has one of the best plots of any rock song in recent memory (though that's not saying much), and a chorus that jumps down your throat. Led by a gently treading, royal bassline, the vocals tremble through their travails and strike, Nirvana-style, at the chorus. The four chords of said chorus also happen to be the exact reverse of those in "Smells Like Teen Spirit," but who's counting. The Chinese Album is more than a brilliant collection of tunes--it's a statement. This music is vital, breathing, and most important, exhaling. It doesn't need a genre, Veronica and pals, it just needs to be good. (Sire Records)
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