Remember Pop Rocks, the tiny pieces of carbonated sugar that sat in your hand and sizzled in your mouth? Big Dipper plays that sort of pop rock: On record the band lies colorful and insignificant, but apply a little human flesh to it (ninety-five-percent water) and it snaps and zings. Slam, the Dips' major-label debut after three indie releases, is the product of an all-out effort to crystallize the live essence of the Boston quartet in the studio. Somewhere in the process, Big Dipper has lost its fizz.

Or maybe make that fuzz. Big Dipper has always written good songs – and it still does. The new "Life Inside the Cemetery" holds its own with the band's classic "Faith Healer." What previously kicked the group over the edge is the splendid noise the members can make – guitars clashing, drums hurtling – while also preserving melody. Slam is too pristine. With the grit and crackle gone, all that's left are some quirky songs about love barges and bony knees. God forbid, there are even horns, synthesizers and computer programming on the record: Has indie rock succumbed to the industry strategy that once sold Gary Numan as punk? From the zany album cover to Gary Waleik's big guitar riffs, Slam is garishly New Wave. The main thing saving Slam from being a testimonial to the death of 4/4 rock is Bill Goffrier's voice, which brings a touch of warmth to the sterile sound, like a piece of unfinished wood in a stainless-steel kitchen. When Waleik's voice chimes in on a song like "Another Life," the harmony bubbles out of the mix, a vestigial pocket of effervescent charm. (RS 587)

EVELYN MCDONNELL