Living Colour

A lot of hard-rock acts imitate Led Zeppelin, but Living Colour is one of the few that managed to emulate the group. Instead of slavishly copping licks from the Zep catalogue, Living Colour appropriated the band's eclecticism and eagerness to experiment, a combination that keeps it from falling victim to the cliches that make most metal so predictable.

After all, how many other hard-rock acts would open an album with a sound bite from Malcolm X? But that's exactly how Vivid begins, and not only does the quote fit neatly into the sound and sensibility of "Cult of Personality," it nicely balances the song-ending samples of JFK and FDR. More interesting than the song's message, however, is its method, for "Cult of Personality" happily augments its bluesy power riffing with modal asides that add to the melody without diminishing the aural impact. It helps that the band's founder, Vernon Reid, built his reputation as a jazz guitarist, and that the rhythm section is as at home with funk beats as metal stomps. But Vivid is full of unexpected left turns, from the Beach Boys bridge in "I Want to Know" to the James Brown-isms of "What's Your Favorite Color?" to the furious, fusion-style intro to "Desperate People." Best of all, the band backs its musical vision with insight, offering pointed, perceptive social commentary through songs such as "Funny Vibe" and "Open Letter (to a Landlord)."

With Time's Up, Living Colour doesn't just maintain its initial momentum, but actually picks up speed. Musically, the band casts an even wider net, opening the album with a nod to the Bad Brains ("Time's Up") and bringing in such guests as Little Richard, Maceo Parker, and Queen Latifah. Accordingly, its best moments are absolutely stunning: "Elvis Is Dead" is a meditation on the Lord of Graceland; "Type" is a thought-provoking attack on the power of image over substance; while "Love Rears Its Ugly Head" is a modern blues, a song about sex and fear and desire that's as real as life itself. Biscuits, released while the band was on hiatus, offers nothing new -- a live "Desperate People," a leftover from the Time's Up sessions, and three covers -- but is worth hearing if only for the band's crunchy remake of Al Green's "Love and Happiness" and Reid's incendiary take on Hendrix's "Burning of the Midnight Lamp."

With Stain, bassist Muzz Skillings was replaced by Tackhead (and Sugar Hill Records house band) vet Doug Wimbish. Stylistically, it was a step forward for the band, with samples and slick backing vocals fleshing out the sound. But apart from "Ignorance Is Bliss" and the pointedly political "Auslander," the material was largely unexceptional. Within a year of the album's release, Living Colour called it quits, only to reunite for Collideoscope, a messy, slightly overbearing album weighed down by too much experimentation and sociopolitical theorizing.

Pride is an aptly titled best-of that, unlike most of its ilk, saves some of its best stuff for last. Superhits is a much more meager offering (10 tunes to Pride's 17), but does at least include "Elvis Is Dead," which Pride inexplicably omits. (J.D. CONSIDINE)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide