Johnny Marr and the Healers Boomslang (IMusic) For most rockers, the past is a dangerous place, because it's all been done before. For Johnny Marr, the trouble is double: The crowning irony of the debut record by his new band, the Healers, is that it sounds like the groups that imitated Marr's old band, the Smiths. The twangy Brit pop of the opener, "The Last Ride," could be something from Oasis, a band that openly adores the Smiths. On "Need It," Marr knocks out a riff that's as spiky as a Joshua tree, then drummer Zak Starkey adds a train-track-clack beat, and all of a sudden Boomslang sounds a lot like a Levi's commercial shot in the Mojave Desert. The album shimmers with elements of T. Rex and traces of the Stone Roses -- it's got all the atmosphere of a great rock record, but not the guts of one. Fine guitarist that Marr is, he and the Healers may simply be too cool for their own good. (PAT BLASHILL)

Nada Surf Let Go (Barsuk)

Nada Surf enjoyed a buzz-bin moment in 1996 with the high school satire "Popular," and while the extremely groovy guitar ripples stuck in your head long after the joke was over, it wasn't the kind of hit that suggests a long-term career, as Harvey Danger or the Primitive Radio Gods would be happy to explain to you. So the New York guitar-rock trio hit the indie trail to earn its cred the hard way, and after the Weezer-like introspection of 2000's startlingly great The Proximity Effect, Nada Surf get it all together on Let Go, the band's best by a mile. Let Go is an excellent rainy-afternoon album, full of gentle and melancholic beauty, with echoes of Love and the Beach Boys. In "Blizzard of '77," "Blonde on Blonde" and "The Way You Wear Your Head," Nada Surf show enough smarts and panache to leave most of their Nineties-rock peers eating hot dust. (ROB SHEFFIELD)

Moe Wormwood (IMusic)

Here's what Moe have going for them: a rhythm section that elevates the ordinary jam-band improv with a working knowledge of R&B and funk backbeats; the guitarist Chuck Garvey, who on the title track of this erratic live effort plays intense prayer-meeting slide; a repertoire that encompasses truly mindless refrains and disarmingly beautiful instrumental interludes. The one thing the Buffalo, New York, quintet lacks: tunes that make the most of their instrumental strengths. Wormwood -- an album of new songs recorded on the band's fall tour and subsequently tweaked in the studio with guitar overdubs and such -- is plenty engaging when it's solo time. But it's downright tedious when the Moe musicians aspire to Grateful Dead-ish philosophy ("Gone") or, more laughably, Southern rock ("Okayalright," which copyright lawyers might argue sits a tad too close to "Sweet Home Alabama"). For a band whose rep lies mostly on the road, recording live and sweetening later was a smart strategy; all Moe need now are more-substantial songs. (TOM MOON)

Tiga DJ Kicks (K7)

Few techno sounds have been so over-hyped and essentially hollow as the newfangled electro that has choked nightclubs for the last year. You can count the interesting artists with three fingers: Felix da Housecat, Miss Kittin and now the Montreal fashion plate known as Tiga. His latest and greatest mix CD is a rubbery rethink of this decade's longing for the flashy, Eurotrashy early Eighties, stitching together original New Wavers Soft Cell with the feminist scree of Le Tigre and one of Tiga's own mule-kick-funky house originals. Like Falco, it's all very camp, but like Devo, it's also deeply funky. In Tiga's hands, the new electro sound isn't just an Eighties revival. It's a way to pump techno up with something new: real, live, speaker-shredding, black-panty-rippin' glamour. (PAT BLASHILL)

The Juliana Theory Love (Epic)

"I'm lost in myself/And afraid of who I really am," sings Brett Detar in "Shell of a Man," one of the more thoughtful songs on Love, the Juliana Theory's major-label debut. Detar spends the record trying to conquer his demons; his quest climaxes in a breakthrough that Dr. Phil would be proud of -- "Love is a reason for living/A reason for dying," Detar concludes on the slow-burning "Everything." The Pennsylvania quintet built an audience by offering similar messages via two indie releases and relentless touring, but on Love (produced by ex-Talking Head Jerry Harrison) their sound has matured. Though the album lacks the transcendent hooks of obvious influences U2 and the Smashing Pumpkins, Detar's vocal charisma has grown considerably, and the rest of the band, highlighted by guitarist Josh Fiedler's nimble riffs, sounds tighter too. The Juliana Theory shouldn't be afraid of who they are; their unrestrained moments hint at greater potential. (PETE GLOWATSKY)

Baxter Dury Len Parrot's Memorial Lift (Rough Trade)

With very few exceptions, the kids of rock stars sound an awful lot like mom or dad if they decide to follow the pop music muse. Therefore, the most striking thing about the debut effort from Baxter Dury, the son of late European pop star Ian Dury, is how little the kid sounds like Dad. Nowhere is there a semblance of the senior Dury's cockney baritone. Instead, Baxter primarily sings in an angelic, wispy falsetto delivering up eight ethereal, psychedelic pop gems, full of gorgeous melodies and other delights. Even song titles -- "Oscar Brown" and "Auntie Jane" -- sound like something off an early Bee Gees record. In fact, if you didn't know better, you might confuse Baxter Dury as the progeny of Chris Bell, Tim Buckley (imagine that!), or even Donovan. Dad was terrific, and the son has now produced a little pop masterpiece of his own. (BILL HOLDSHIP)

Joan of Arc So Much Staying Alive and Lovelessness (Jade Tree)

Like their fellow Chicago bands they've been compared to -- Tortoise, Gastr Del Sol -- Joan of Arc turn song structure on its head: An acoustic, folk guitar twists on a jazz rhythm, while an ethereal keyboard wash lingers eerily in the background or a piano pumps out of control. Their sixth album discards the computerized jump-cuts of previous production exercises for the organic chemistry that occurs when you sit five to ten people in a room and set them loose on a common goal. The results still occasionally tend to art-rock overload ("Olivia Lost" loses the way at points), but more often than not the focus stays on the harmonious. Singer Tim Kinsella consistently dares to reach for notes that would make an American Idol judge blanch. But even he heeds to the less-is-more line of indie-rock speak-singing, reaching understated catharsis during "Perfect Need and Perfect Completion." (ROB O'CONNOR)

New Wet Kojak This Is the Glamorous (Beggars Banquet)

It's been almost three years since the last release from New Wet Kojak, side project for Girls Against Boys frontman Scott McCloud. On the last disc's title track, "Do Things," McCloud forewarned: "Remind yourself/This is the glamorous." And the longtime interest in glamour continues on the band's latest effort, an exotic indie-rock, jazz-funk cocktail. Over swirls of sax, throbbing rhythms, synth squiggles and staccato guitar riffs, McCloud leads his GvsB bandmate and bassist Johnny Temple, saxophonist Charles Bennington, drummer Nick Pellicciotto and multi-instrumentalist Geoff Turner through eleven lascivious tunes perfect for late-night listening. On "The World of Shampoo," McCloud's languid vocals are equal parts Richard Butler (Psychedelic Furs) and Mark E. Smith (the Fall) as he introduces listeners to ". . . a world of techno and whiskey . . . a world of tan lines . . . a world of Corvettes." From this alluring and ironic environment comes NWK's most intoxicating effort yet. (MARK WOODLIEF)

The Damnwells PMR +1 (In Music We Trust)

Despite the growing buzz around them, New York City pop-rock outfit the Damnwells disappoint on their second EP, PMR + 1 -- Poor Man's Record + 1. The set sounds restrained, with disinterested guitars, a formulaic rhythm section and forgettable melodies -- a risk-free recipe, timid and coached. Frontman Alex Dezen's singing voice lacks the body and distinction to carry the songs and shouldn't be the lead instrument. The quiet, touching "Goodnight Tonight" -- even with the sax -- marks the album's highpoint, with the strangest and most complex arrangement. Still, the album is frustrating. Instead of achieving the intellectual roots-rock or inspired power pop that the collection imitates, the record retreats to a soft-rock middle that neither excites nor intrigues. (BENJAMIN FRIEDLAND)

Alaska! Emotions (B-Girl Records)

Much can be told by the company you keep, a truth readily apparent on Emotions, the debut by Alaska! Folk Implosion members Imaad Wasif and Russell Pollard infuse the set with glossy, acoustic arrangements and intricate, sighing melodies you'd expect from Lou Barlow associates and Elliott Smith tourmates. Songs such as "Broken" and "Rust and Cyanide" feature, plaintive acoustic strumming, while "The Western Shore," "S.S./Candycane" and "Lost the Gold" are muscular, mid-tempo stomps. Like an Arctic aurora, Emotions counterbalances warm instrumentation with a cool, wistful earnestness. (TONY WARE)

(February 3, 2003)