Most performers feel compelled at one time or another to make their fat-and-happy record, and it isn't always a bad thing (Exhibit A: Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey). From the sound and the subject matter of Songs From an American Movie, Vol. One: Learning How to Smile, it seems as if Everclear mastermind Art Alexakis is at least trying to be happy, if not fat. Even the songs about troubled love affairs have an aura of hope about them. The problem is that there's a veneer of irony here that Alexakis just doesn't have the guts to strip away. You can partly understand why: When you hear a line like "The sound of my little girl laughing makes me happy just to be alive" sung with complete conviction, your first impulse is to giggle. But there's a smug humility in Everclear's massive, lumbering cover of Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl." They impose a sluggish majesty on the song, as if making it bigger could somehow make it better. Elsewhere, the band throws in smirky sound effects and samples.

Songs From an American Movie sounds orchestral and homespun at once: Lustrous, fancy strings on one song give way to a slap-happy ukulele on the next. Yet it's too much of both and not enough of either. And even when he's trying to be humble, Alexakis too often comes off as a windbag. By the time, late in the record, that he remarks wistfully but purposefully, "I wish I could sing like Otis Redding/I wish I could play this guitar in tune," it really is eye-rolling time. If wishes were horses, we'd all sound like Otis Redding. And Everclear wouldn't even attempt to cover "Brown Eyed Girl." (STEPHANIE ZACHAREK -- RS 844/845)

Various Artists Nutty Professor II: The Klumps: Music From the Motion Picture (Def Jam/Def Soul)

Back in 1996, The Nutty Professor soundtrack set the pace for hip-hop/R&B movie tie-ins. Its sequel is functional and bouncy, though there's no jolt like "Ain't No N-G-A" here, even from that breakthrough track's returning MCs; Jay-Z is on automatic on "Hey Papi" (burdened with a clunky Timbaland groove), and Foxy Brown turns up on a pointless remix of Sisqó's "Thong Song." Beyond those and some horrid Brian McKnight and Montell Jordan ballads, things improve. Eminem is still hilariously flipping out on his mom and ex-Mouseketeers, Method Man maintains his rep as the Wu-Tanger most likely to get down, and producer Rodney Jerkins comes up with another anonymous but agreeable group of Destiny's Child-alikes, Shorty 101. The rest of NPII, including tracks by Musiq (no relation to Musique or u-Ziq) and Janet Jackson, is decent summer-driving music that sticks to familiar models, but that's ultimately a problem: too many near-identical Klumps, not enough spotlight-stealing Buddy Love. (DOUGLAS WOLK -- RS 846)

M÷tley Crne New Tattoo (Beyond)

While such groups as the Who and the Smashing Pumpkins have shown that losing a drummer can destroy a band, this new Crne album -- the first since Tommy Lee split to go solo -- proves that it doesn't always have to ruin things. If fact, Tattoo is the return-to-form the band has needed to make since the Vince-less eponymous album. Unfortunately, this also means a return to the inconsistency that marred such albums as Theater Of Pain. While such tunes as "Fake" and "Punched In The Teeth By Love" rock like the Crne at their ballsy best, the album is littered with tracks such as "Dragstrip Superstar" and "Treat Me Like The Dog I Am," which are awkward and clunky. Still, there's enough crucial Crne here to make their fans glad the guys are back. (PAUL SEMEL)

Brian Setzer Orchestra Vavoom (Interscope)

The neo-swing movement may have come and gone faster than a Gene Krupa drum solo, but singer-guitarist Brian Setzer keeps hanging around, connecting the dots between complex Benny Goodman horn charts and simplified rockabilly. The poofy-haired former Stray Cat's fourth big-band album, bright and fun, updates Glenn Miller's swing standard "In the Mood" (complete with rap) and Bobby Darin's lounge-lizard classic "Mack the Knife," but Setzer is a rock guy at heart. He flings guitar solos against the horns in "Jumpin' East of Java" and channels spooky surf bands in "Drive Like Lightning (Crash Like Thunder)." Most impressive is his timing. Just as his "Jump, Jive and Wail" coincided with the "Gap Swings" TV commercial, his snappy "Americano" could ride the coattails of Matt Damon and Jude Law singing it in The Talented Mr. Ripley, just out on video. (STEVE KNOPPER)

Lil' Mo Based On A True Story (Gold Mind/EastWest/Elektra)

Although she has been lurking in the shadows for several years now, writing songs for the likes of Timbaland, Blackstreet and Next, singer Lil' Mo really came to public attention earlier this year through a cameo on Missy Elliott's dynamite hit "Hot Boyz." This is her major label debut, a set of self-penned songs that make Lil' Mo sound as if she is perpetually stuck in second gear. With the fairly tedious "My Story" setting the tone, she wades through a series of largely forgettable synthesizer ballads, stopping only briefly to shine on the hip-hop infused first single "Ta Da" (a close cousin of Whitney Houston's superior "It's Not Right But It's Okay"), and a spiritual cover of Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time," where her athletic voice finally gets the melodic workout it deserves. (AIDIN VAZIRI)

Dogstar Happy Ending (Ultimatum)

It's admirable that actor Keanu "Whoa!" Reeves wants to linger in the background as the stoic bassist in this gloomy alternative-rock trio. But the music could sure use his personality. Or anyone's personality. Though movie star Jeff Bridges' new-agey folk CD Be Here Soon stands as the year's worst actor-rock vanity project, it's unclear why anyone would want to hear this one. A sort of low-rent Bush, complete with loud guitars and screaming singer (Bret Domrose), Dogstar puts no humor in the Carpenters' "Superstar," no poignancy in the soft "Cornerstore" and not even a decent guitar solo in "Washington." Even "Enemies," their most likely single, sounds like a rewrite of Iggy Pop's "Candy." The CD sleeve photos, with Reeves looking cool dressed in rock-star black, are more dramatic than the music. (KNOPPER)

Goudie Peep Show (The Music Company/Elektra)

The first signing to Metallica drummer Lars Urlich's not-very-imaginatively billed the Music Company comes from Austin, Tex., but wears a distinctly British influence on its debut. Fronted by the virile John Goudie, whose quavering falsetto sounds like a cross between Radiohead's Thom Yorke and Placebo's Brian Molko, the band's art-school rock will surely bewilder fans picking up the disc solely for the Metallica connection. Spiky songs like "Sugar Daddy" and "Drag City" owe a bigger debt to David Bowie's lipstick bedlam and Marc Bolan's cock-swelling swagger than Metallica's leaden bombast. Some of the lyrics are too sophomore level for their own good ("I want to hold you in my hands / I want to feel you scratch my face"), but the overall impact is unexpected and appealing at once. (VAZIRI)

Creedence Clearwater Revival Creedence Clearwater Revival (Fantasy)
Creedence Clearwater Revival Bayou Country (Fantasy)
Creedence Clearwater Revival Green River (Fantasy)
Creedence Clearwater Revival Willie and the Poor Boys (Fantasy)
Creedence Clearwater Revival Cosmo's Factory (Fantasy)
Creedence Clearwater Revival Pendulum (Fantasy)
Creedence Clearwater Revival Mardi Gras (Fantasy)
Creedence Clearwater Revival The Concert (Fantasy)

There have been few catalogues as sorely in need of remastering as that of Creedence Clearwater Revival. Fantasy's new reissues will likely mean little to those who are sated with the obligatory, yet shoddy sounding, Chronicle. They're missing out. If Chronicle can be likened to an episode of Behind the Music, think of these albums as the Ken Burns documentary version of CCR. Don't look for bonus tracks here, but the Fogertys, Cook and Clifford have never enjoyed this kind of sound quality and this series of albums respotlights CCR as what they truly were: a hell of an album band. Thus there's the albums themselves. The trajectory of the band here is almost Shakespearean in its pacing, especially since these eight albums represent less than four years of recording; shorter than some of the longer dramas.

CCR and Bayou Country establish the group's swamp-country sound paired with a love for sweet soul music, but it's with Willie, Green River and Cosmo's that CCR reach their pinnacle. These three albums alone render any hits package useless. Longtime CCR fans will find no revelations here (other than bolstered sound quality), but if just one person could be made to realize that the scope of this band well exceeded the twenty tracks on Chronicle then Fantasy will have succeeded. The band's two final albums are widely considered something of clunkers, and while terribly uneven, they aren't to be ignored. Pendulum, in particular, shines in moments with the band losing some of the swamp for some ventures into straight-up C&W. Still the group's implosion is here in these two final discs (Tom Fogerty doesn't appear on Mardi Gras). Lest the proceedings lean too gloomy, The Concert is the uplifting dTnouement, a sloppy dose of untouched CCR from 1970. On the whole, it's the singles that haven't been suffocated by jukeboxes and college-era album collections that make these reissues golden. The sizzle of "Effigy" that closes Willie is reason alone to toss the compilation and really discover CCR. It also happens to serve as a fitting description to the bitter conclusion to the first great American band. (ANDREW DANSBY)

Roy Clark Live at Billy Bob's Texas (Razor & Tie)

It's not known by everyone, and it should be made clear: Roy Clark is not just a country singer, but a hell of a guitarist. His speed and dexterity remain blinding on this live recording's instrumental showcases, such as "Caravan," "Riders in the Sky," "Malaguena" and "El Cumbanchero." For better or worse, though, he's still a singer, too. The vocal half of this program is definitely less impressive than the wordless numbers, with Clark running through both corny and comic tunes with an affable croak. As far as middle-of-the-road country goes, there's worse around, and Roy definitely does bond well with the audience in his lighthearted, if not quite witty, between-song patter. The band cooks pretty well too, but that synthesizer has gotta go. Even on the instrumental portion, it wouldn't be a bad idea to drop "Lara's Theme" from the program as well. (RICHIE UNTERBERGER)

Thin Lizzy Live: One Night Only (CMC International)

This live album is Thin Lizzy in name more than spirit. Sure, they sound technically "on," and lead vocalist John Sykes, who'd shared lead guitar duties in an earlier Lizzy incarnation, even sounds a little like Phil Lynott -- but then again, how could anyone ever match that Irish CrFme voice? The problem is that this is a great facsimile album that lacks the blood and bone of the Lizzy of the Seventies. You've still got the signature harmony guitars wiring away in tandem, and original axeman Scott Gorman in the fold. But let's hope this album, recorded from 1999 Euro dates, is in fact a "one night only" flirtation with the past. It's still great to hear "Jailbreak" and the testosterone-charged anthem "The Boys Are Back in Town," but if you want the real juice, get yourself a copy of Live and Dangerous and let Mr. Lynott "put some Irish in ya." (ADRIAN ZUPP)

Mongo Santamaria Greatest Hits (Columbia/Legacy)
Mongo Santamaria Afro American Latin (Columbia/Legacy)

It's been a bittersweet past year for fans of Latin percussion, the obvious downer being the passing of Tito Puente. But while the most visible Latin drummer is no longer with us, two percussion legends have finally gotten their due attention. In February, Pancho Sanchez took home his first Grammy, and this month, Sony is offering up two discs from Afro-Cuban legend Mongo Santamaria's backlogue. These two albums fill some of the timeline holes left by Skin on Skin, a Santamaria anthology released on Rhino last year. Hits offers up Santamaria's unique blend of jazzy numbers flashed through the prism of his Latin rhythms. From one of his most interesting (and covered) compositions, "Afro-Blue" to his hit take on Herbie Hancock's "Watermelon Man" and Booker T.'s "Green Onions," Santamaria proves a powerful, yet flexible, force with an ability to fuse multiple musical languages. Afro American Latin is something of a Santamaria Holy Grail, a previously unreleased set of tunes including a half-hour of live material. One would be hard-pressed to find a more thorough whipping of the congos than these dazzling cross-sections of Santamaria's genius. (DANSBY)

Various Artists Steal This Movie (E-Squared/Artemis)

The producers of Steal This Movie stole some big names to re-work a few classics from the Sixties for the Abbie Hoffman biopic. The irony is, they still got ripped off. Steve Earle and Sheryl Crow's take on "Time Has Come Today" starts out thumping and raucous (just like it should) until Crow's overzealous voice comes in. Which is exactly the problem with this soundtrack -- most of the covers miss the boat. Bonnie Raitt's take on "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" is classy, but a bit too slick, while Joan Osbourne and Jackson Browne turn "My Back Pages" into a saccharine-laced ballad. The best tracks here are the originals. Phil Ochs' "I Ain't Marching Anymore" reeks of the Sixties as do the two Country Joe and the Fish tracks. Of the covers, the best are Ani DiFranco's two contributions, which sound authentic and heartfelt. Don't steal this soundtrack, but don't pay for it, either. (BOB FERDMAN)

Peter Bruntnell Normal For Bridgwater (Slow River/Rykodisc)

"Back in the days when the earth was flat / Everyone dreamed of wings," sings Londoner Peter Bruntnell on the thumping "Forgiven," one of many irresistible moments on Normal For Bridgwater. This marvelous pop-based record with alt-country edges now reveals one of England's biggest kept musical secrets to U.S. audiences. Recorded with his band, which features the able hands of twenty-one-year-old guitarist James Walbourne -- and helped out by Son Volt members Dave Boquist and Eric Heywood -- the disc balances a loose, whiskey-soaked charm ("By The Time My Head Gets To Phoenix," "Lay Down This Curse") with a tender, lovesick approach ("Handful Of Stars.") Coupling Bruntnell's weary but ardent vocal delivery and his honest songwriting method ("Shot From A Spring," "Jurassic Parking Lot"), Normal is anything but. (JOHN D. LUERSSEN)

Live Human Elefish Jellyphant (Matador)

A good understanding of San Francisco's eclectic musical climate is required to fully appreciate Live Human's Frankenstein approach. In a city where acid funk and abstract beats hold just as much clout as beatnik jazz and supper-club classical, this wild collective has taken bits and pieces from all of the above styles and stitched them together on the truly exploratory and experimental Elefish Jellyphant. Anchored by the beard-scratching turntable work of DJ Quest (a.k.a. Carlos Aguilar), most the compositions on the album were born out of informal studio jams that took place over a brief two-week period. While the maverick approach can naturally be commended, making it through the sixteen-track album proves to be more of a challenge. (VAZIRI)

Judas Priest The Best Of (Koch)

This set shouldn't be confused with the similarly titled Sony compilation that compiles what most regard as the true best of Judas Priest (i.e. "Living After Midnight," "You've Got Another Thing Comin'" etc.) Still, passive fans may find themselves hoodwinked by this collection's irresponsible title, which migrates peak points from the group's early, Gull Records-era. Long denounced by the band as deliberately shoddy product -- although in the label's defense, it does feature original versions of "Diamonds And Rust" and "Victim Of Changes" -- The Best Of is plagued by an inane, rambling interview with one-time kitman John Hinch. Core fans will know to skip this set, however, as the bulk of the music here is already available on Rocka Rolla and Sad Wings Of Destiny. (LUERSSEN)

Various Artists Pickin' On Aerosmith: A Bluegrass Tribute (CMH)

At first, the premise of this album sounds like a joke. A bluegrass tribute to Aerosmith? What's next, an album of Nine Inch Nails songs by Shania Twain? But the only funny thing here is how good some of these bluesgrassed Aerosmith tunes sound. Smartly favoring the group's bluesier tunes, these bluegrass vets take such 'smith classics as "Mama Kin," "Same Old Song And Dance," "Last Child" and "Back In The Saddle" and strip them down to their roots for a sound that's more Charlie Daniels Band than Dukes Of Hazard. Obviously, not all of it works: the power ballad strains of "Cryin'" don't translate well, while the tongue-in-cheek "Rag Doll" ends up sounding like something from a cartoon jamboree. (SEMEL)

Johnny Thunders Belfast Nights (Amsterdamned/Triple X)

You know what this album lacks? David Johansen's raspy, parodic vocals. This live set by deceased, one-time New York Dolls axeman Johnny Thunders is like a Dolls album that just needs a distinctive voice box. The fact that the album still gets off the ground is a tribute to Thunders' meaty guitar work. The nineteen short tracks all thump and whir in typical Thunders fashion (you'll recognize the signature breaks and licks immediately), belying the fact that he's only fronting a trio. The Dolls classic "Personality Crisis" is still a standout and would be even if it were sung by Britney Spears (well . . .). As you would expect, there are no meandering instrumental improvs here, just straight-up rock and roll. Bellfast Nights, recorded in 1984, is a memory, not a classic. But if you liked the Dolls you'll probably dig this trip back in time from their always-corroding trailblazer guitarist. (ZUPP)

Various Artists Angel From Montgomery; Bluegrass Celebrates Bonnie Raitt (CMH)

Known primarily as a slide guitar player and song interpreter, it's funny that Bonnie Raitt should end up with a tribute to "her songs." The twist is that the blues guitarist's renditions (and a handful of originals like "Nick Of Time," one of the few known pop songs about being a middle-aged woman ever to chart), are reinterpreted as Bluegrass instrumentals. The players who form the core band are billed as "some of the world's hottest musicians." Now, just because they aren't household names doesn't mean they ain't hot, but it's a tough standard for any band to live up to and throughout, these musicians rarely get cookin'. Their version of the John Prine-penned title track has some tasty moments, but nothing here ever comes close to Raitt's bottleneck blues. (DENISE SULLIVAN)

Woody Guthrie Dust Bowl Ballads (Buddha)

Dust Bowl Ballads is known to rock fans as the album that was probably more influential upon Bob Dylan than any other record was. Songs such as "Tom Joad," "I Ain't Got No Home" and "Pretty Boy Floyd" continue to influence socially conscious songwriters through the present, Bruce Springsteen's 1995 album Ghost of Tom Joad being the most obvious example. Recorded and released in 1940, the tunes are plain but powerful evocations of the hardships sparked by the Dust Bowl drought and storms in the Midwest in the 1930s. They're also ageless reflections of not only the struggles of ordinary working people in hard times, but also the dignity that enabled the downtrodden to survive. This Buddha CD reissue adds an alternate take of "Talking Dust Bowl Blues" to the fourteen songs that have appeared on previous editions of the album, as well as new liner notes by Dave Marsh. (UNTERBERGER)

Iggy Pop New Values (Buddha)
Iggy Pop Soldier (Buddha)
Iggy Pop Party (Buddha)

Between Iggy's David Bowie/Berlin-phase and his commercial reemergence with Blah Blah Blah, he recorded these three, mostly unheard albums. New Values could be his most incisive and overlooked record in a vast catalog. Reunited with former Stooges guitarist James Williamson, with considerable assistance from multi-instrumentalist Scott Thurston, it's an in-your-face-classic (starring the anthemic "I'm Bored" and one-two horn punch of "Five Foot One"). The album is loose but pro and sonic-miles beyond its class of '79 contemporaries. The follow-up, Soldier, just plain lacks songs (Williamson walked out on the job and his absence is obvious), not to mention guitars, but is better rendered than some may remember and clearly inspired the next wave of punkers (hello, Jane's Addiction). 1981's Party is worth reconsideration, if only as a study in new wave-ness. "Pumpin' For Jill" and the Tommy Boyce-produced "Bang Bang" were college radio chart-toppers. A cover of "Sea of Love" reveals Pop's inner-crooner, which he would exploit to maximum effect in years to come. (SULLIVAN)

The Original Carter Family Can the Circle Be Unbroken: Country Music's First Family (Columbia/Legacy)

So Jimmie Rodgers may have beat them to the studio by a day, but the Carter Family can stake the same claim as the singing brakeman to being cornerstones of country music. This recollected batch of tunes is pulled from 1935 and 1940; many of the tracks are re-recordings of previous Carter releases from their earliest Victor sides. But the Victor tracks are thin and less striking than this twenty-song set which features most of the Carter trademarks including "Can the Circle Be Unbroken," "Wildwood Flower," and "My Clinch Mountain Home." What else is there to say? The three-part harmonies, Mother Maybelle's sturdy picking and timeless lyrics (which continue to be covered and referenced in their eighth decade) are pure and revelatory. Shortly after the latest of these recordings the trio would splinter with domestic squabbles between A.P. and Sara Carter pulling them apart. But despite the internal friction that was brewing during the recording of these sides, these three never sounded closer. This is the beginning of country music. (DANSBY)

(July 11, 2000)