Natalie Imbruglia has identity issues. A former star of the Australian soap opera Neighbors and an overnight success in America with her 1998 radio hit "Torn," the singer-songwriter has returned with a second album that is thoroughly catchy, utterly hummable and impossible to fault except for its lack of any stamp of authorship. Who is this Natalie Imbruglia, really? On the winsome "Wrong Impression," she and her band pull off an uncanny impersonation of the light tea time Anglo-pop of the Sundays, but it may be that Imbruglia just happens to sound a lot like that band's singer, Harriet Wheeler. The rainy-day arrangement and orchestration of "Goodbye" is dreamy and vaguely sad, like the downbeat musings of an otherwise pretty comfortable angel, although the songwriter may have intended the tune as an exhibit of soul-baring, raw introspection. Imbruglia's delicate, sweet and well-behaved singing isn't the ideal vehicle for expressing angst, even if most of these minor-chord, gray-skies anthems seem to be yearning to do just that. The result is a tune such as "Talk in Tongues," a half-unplugged, vaguely Beatlesque acoustic jam that merely seems bummed. Judging from all the mopey lyrics and bittersweet melodies, the singer meant for the album to be an Affecting Experience. But despite its immaculate odes to unhappiness, White Lilies Island itself is ear candy with about as much emotional resonance as Kathie Lee Gifford's latest televised crying jag. (PAT BLASHILL)

Billy Bragg and the Blokes England, Half-English (Elektra)

For his first album of new material in six years, Anglo folk punk Billy Bragg has finally got the boogie band he deserves, a peppy, versatile crew including veterans of Shriekback, the Mekons and the Faces. Bragg is aiming for the whimsical universality of the Woody Guthrie lyrics he and Wilco set to music on their two Mermaid Avenue albums. Unfortunately, his own lyrics are best when they're intimate and pointed, which they rarely are here. The political songs on England, Half-English are dippy fake Guthrie -- the workingman-wronged plaint "NPWA" inadvertently makes anti-globalism sound like a dumb idea -- and the others are frustratingly vague or plain silly (aside from "Jane Allen," a sly reggae-rock trifle in which Billy doesn't cheat on his wife). The title track exemplifies the problem: The Blokes are having a great time batting around an old ska riff, but Bragg is too busy belaboring a joke about U.K. multiculturalism to get down with them. (DOUGLAS WOLK)

Carl Cox Global (FFRR)

There is no doubt Carl Cox is one of the best turntablists around, thanks to his legendary four-deck action, combining a heavy mix of hard-hitting funky house and tough techno. Global, his first mix in two years, starts out with this familiar style, charging through hip shakers like Angel Moraes' "Turn It Up" and Lovesky's "Drums for Better Daze." Midway through the hearty dance-floor fun though, Coxy turns unreliable, serving up a handful of rather ordinary tracks that leave the party a little stale. It's an unexpected, and slightly disappointing change from the man who, smiling from the DJ box with his gappy-toothed grin, usually injects the lifeblood into the vein of the party. Things resume, somewhat, towards Global's end thanks to Cox's inclusion of the track "Simulation" (by the artist of the same name) and the song's borrowed vocal from Vince Clarke's Yaz classic "Situation." Certainly Global is a substantive mix, but it just lacks that world-class kick you've come to expect from the bouncy Brit. (JOLIE LASH)

Local H Here Comes the Zoo (Palm Pictures)

Back in Aerosmith's heyday, there was no whining allowed in rock and roll. Local H -- a Midwestern duo who hold Rocks sacred -- are in complete agreement on their fourth album, Here Comes the Zoo. So on "Half-Life," when Scott Lucas yelps, "You're born with nothing, better make it enough," Brian St. Clair, who recently replaced Joe Daniels, tramples any hint of self-pity with a drum barrage special-delivered from Led Zeppelin's Physical Graffiti. Unlike Local H's fine 1998 release, Pack Up the Cats, there is no overarching concept to muddle the my-fist, your-face enjoyment. Guitars hacksaw their way through a wall of kick-drum dementia, even as Lucas delivers the kind of smart lyrics that don't call attention to just how smart-alecky they really are. Two stoned-immaculate epics -- "Baby Wants to Tame Me" and "What Would You Have Me Do?" -- provide a respite from the hammering, forging a connection between "Stranglehold"-era Ted Nugent and Queens of the Stone Age, whose Josh Homme makes a cameo. Local H may not necessarily be the future of rock, but in 2002, they may best embody what rock once meant. (GREG KOT)

Lo Fidelity Allstars Don't Be Afraid of Love (Columbia/Skint)

On their U.S. debut, 1999's How to Operate With a Blown Mind, U.K. big-beat studs the Lo Fidelity Allstars mixed stellar basslines with a rock star swagger. Coming off a series of hits in their native land, as well as the famous British press hype machine, the Lo Fi's seemed to view American stardom as a birthright. That the band didn't break here, may have been the best thing to happen to them though. On their proper follow-up (not counting mix CDs), Don't be Afraid of Love, the Lo Fi's spend more time dancing, less time strutting. The infectious opening track, "What You Want," glows with techno energy, while "Lo Fi's in Ibiza" is a true house tune, complete with rising female vocals at the end. Former Afghan Whigs' frontman Greg Dulli lends his distinctive soul/rock crooning to the steamy "Somebody Needs You." If there's one downside to Don't Be Afraid of Love it's that the record is a bit schizophrenic, as the jump from style to style is bumpy at times. However, the Lo Fi's ambition is commendable, and when they do hit the mark, they nail it. (STEVE BALTIN)

Ben Kweller Sha Sha (ATO)

When he was but a sixteen-year-old, Ben Kweller and his late-period grunge trio, Radish, were hyped as the new Silverchair. Surely that was a cross to bear; fortunately, Kweller's second solo record, Sha Sha (on Dave Matthews' label)

, doesn't feel nearly as calculated as his past work. He hasn't lost interest in swelling guitar crescendos (check out the crisp choruses in "Commerce, TX")

, but this time around, his impressive melodies aren't drenched in distortion. "Family Tree" finds Kweller harmonizing gorgeously with himself in a tune that countrifies the Beatles' "I'm Only Sleeping." And in "Walk on Me," his fetching drawl dips and dives in melodic curlicues. Face it: When you were sixteen, you did some things that make you cringe now. At the ripe old age of twenty, Kweller shows that he knows a thing or two about craft. (ROB KEMP)

Kosheen Resist (Kinetic)

A former Irish folk singer with two English drum and bass DJs, Kosheen are a happy accident of anthemic glory pop songs and combustible dance rhythms. Singer Sian Evans is Kosheen's star, a powerful presence whose lyrics about life and love go far beyond dance music cliches like "Everybody dance now!" Kosheen's big hit, "Hide U," nearly unseated Britney in Belgium and earned them Top of the Pop's status and a U.K. drum and bass Single of the Year award. But can Kosheen fly stateside? Well, even if you prefer the Chemical Brothers to Jewel, you'll still be taken by the soaring choruses and warm acoustic guitars of songs like "Cover," "Harder," "Hungry" and "Face in a Crowd." The DJ team of Decoder and Substance never mess with Evans' irresistible songs, creating the perfect marriage of groovy beats, big melodies and Cher-on-Olympus vocals. Kosheen arrive five years too late to save the "electronica revolution," starting one of their own instead. (KEN MICALLEF)

Knievel The Name Rings a Bell That Drowns Out Your Voice (In Music We Trust)

Though their name conjures images of guys in Elvis-like jumpsuits riding rocket-powered motorcycles over natural wonders, Knievel actually owe very little to their namesake. Instead of loud music to leap canyons by, these Australian indie-rockers play the kind of laid-back, atmospheric guitar-pop best appreciated by fans of Luna or the Posies. Though things never get so slow that they're sleepy, or so atmospheric that they're cluttered, such tunes as, "Chance Meeting" and "Don't Explain" do recall Sonic Youth's mellower, melodic moments, while the infectious, simple songs, "Need to Know My Basis" and "We Can Identify" might not sound as dangerous as a daredevil stunt, but when it's done well, as it is here, it can still be quite engaging. (PAUL SEMEL)

EchoBrain EchoBrain (Chophouse/Surfdog)

When Metallica bassist Jason Newsted announced his departure from the band that gave him fame and fortune, a lot of people thought he was crazy. But listening to the first album by the band he left Metallica for, it seems Newsted is actually just crazy like a fox. While some might've expected a Metallica clone (especially given Newsted's pre-Metallica thrash roots), EchoBrain's sound actually recalls the melodic but melancholic music of Alice In Chain's stripped-down collections, Jar of Flies and Sap; "SuckerPunch" could be a Sap song, with Newsted's former guitarist, Kirk Hammett helping out on the tune. Admittedly, most Metallica fans will find this a bit, well, soft, and rightly so. But considering that people have left good bands for far worse, EchoBrain doesn't make Newsted seem so crazy after all. (PAUL SEMEL)

Clem Snide Moment in the Sun (SpinArt)

If you haven't heard of Clem Snide, tune into NBC on Wednesday's. It's Clem Snide's singer Eef Barzelay, whose plaintive vocals on the tune "Moment in the Sun" introduces the series Ed, replacing the show's original theme, the Foo Fighters' radio hit "Next Year." The theme song duty brings the indie band into millions of homes every week and was a final boon in a year when their third album, The Ghost of Fashion, earned them critical praise and a spot on dozens of top tens lists. It's the Ed theme that anchors their latest release, an EP, that doesn't break new ground as much as it helps Clem Snide keep their footing until the next effort. The mix by Master Cylinder and the Fruit Key of "Your Favorite Music," the title track of their second album, highlights how Barzelay's songs can withstand arrangements of different textures and styles -- the spare percussive beat and accompanying bass line are augmented by the addition of horns, bringing out the underlying jazz sensibility. The three new tracks -- "Now the Moment's Gone," "I Believe Your Lies" and "Do You Love Me?" -- set Barzelay's warble against an acoustic guitar and hit on a recurring theme, a fascination with and acceptance of things falling apart, whether love or relationships, or one's faith in them. And finally, the title track "Moment in the Sun," takes off, after the first verse, in a crescendo of guitars and horns that sounds like a climax but is only the beginning, a nice reference to where Clem Snide stand and what's to come. (CHRISTINA SARACENO)

(March 4, 2002)