Oblique "poetry" is to be expected from arty bands, and stupid lyrics are a generally accepted hazard of pop music, but even in this cynical and pretentious era you have to draw the line somewhere. King – a colorfully dressed British chart commodity of the post-Spandau Ballet dance school – offers such a misbegotten mash of malformations and banalities that the group's songwriters should be investigated by their local school board. Where did these guys learn to string together lines like "Tell me, did you see the golden pavements?/Was I dreaming or did they gleam/Well whether your [sic] writing on the wall/Or just sitting on the fence/Get up, look around to me there's no defense." Yow! Match that with Paul King's overwrought, undermusical singing and an uninspired mixture of arena guitar and heartless keyboard-flavored dance rock, and you wind up with this slickly crafted drag of an album.

As produced by Richard James Burgess – who has worked with Spandau Ballet and on Adam Ant's miserable Strip – the only clear direction on Steps in Time is toward the bank: rather than having mastered or committed itself to any particular style, the group has tried a number of currently salable sounds. Whatever style King adopts emerges as forgettable, clumsy or simply dumb – sometimes all three.

The band's big U.K. hit single, "Love & Pride," is dry, unaffecting dance rock with chicken-scratch guitar, popping bass and synthesized horn sounds. The above-quoted "Fish" features crushing guitar and bass and plodding big-beat drums played by Burgess (the quartet does not include a drummer). "Soul on My Boots" mimics Culture Club at its least aggressive. "Unity Song" touches on scratch production for just a moment before letting a perky chorus deliver the song's not-so-crucial message: "We can't change the times/Or the stars."

British chart pop has often been criticized for being trendy, derivative, glib and artificial. Steps in Time is all that and more. (RS 454)

IRA ROBBINS