Walk through the midnight shadow/Sing to a god of love/Fight someone else's battles/And lie in a shady grove," sings Jimme O'Neill on "Answer Me," the opening track of A Blues for Buddha. This follow-up to the Silencers' 1987 debut album, A Letter From St. Paul, transports us to a rain-soaked world rife with mystical imagery. Defined by O'Neill's streetwise visionary stance, the Silencers have positioned themselves as a band of heightened consciousness.

Although at times they refer too directly to October-era U2, the Silencers, who hail from Scotland, have put together a provocative, atmospheric record that reveals its strengths over time. O'Neill is still formulating a trademark style. He occasionally undermines his ideas with sentimentality, as in the contrived ballad "Scottish Rain." He also can veer into pretentious obscurity, as on the album's title track.

But when O'Neill steps back to become an equal player in an already tightknit group, the Silencers establish their distinctiveness. They pack some punch on the infectiously optimistic love song "The Real McCoy," in which O'Neill proves he can put a fresh spin on religious subjects. He's completely winning when he sees "a Sistine chapel/Spattered on tenement stone" and, in "Skin Game," when he envisions racial harmony as "a multi-colored rosary."

Because the Silencers can reach the ecstatic heights of "Razor Blades of Love," a delirious rush of ringing, soaring guitars, it's hard to settle for lackluster tracks like "Walk With the Night." Still, the promise of their best cuts suggests that the Silencers may yet make some big noise. (RS 577)

JUDE SCHWENDENWIEN