Because they function as an acoustic group but want to avoid the folk-singer clichés, Maggie, Terre and Suzzy Roche have learned to stretch their voices like a string quartet. Since their a cappella arrangements lack the rhythmic sense of the Persuasions', the idea of backing the sisters with judicious electric support makes sense. But inappropriate instrumentation dilutes all but the best songs on Another World, proving that, in the Roches' case, less really is more.

On occasion, the music suits the lyrics: the title track masks the Roches' hysterical dourness and bluesy counterpoint with a deceptive synth bounce, while a T. Rex guitar riff bolsters the convincing late-night alienation of "Angry Angry Man" and the stark piano and whistling keyboards match Suzzy's sadly resigned "I Love to See You."

Half of the ten tracks were produced by Richard Gottehrer (Blondie, the GoGo's), and while he and the two other producers don't quite remodel the Roches after the Pointer Sisters, they do muddle the subtle frequencies of their vocal interplay. A drum machine mars the oratorio purity of "Love Radiates Around" as well as the cover of the Fleetwoods' "Come Softly to Me." And the burpy synths in "Older Girls" make as much sense as a duet with Ted Nugent.

"Face Down at Folk City" ends side one with a witty and rude tale of tribulations at that fabled folk club, where the songs you hear "ain't the latest rage." For a few years, the Roches were the club's most promising products – smarter than Joan Baez and almost as much fun as Madonna. Although half of Another World is great, the songs suggest it could have been better if, on the other half, they hadn't been introduced to those "rages" they'd always avoided. Ever since Bob Dylan (another promising Folk City alum) discovered amplification, folkies gone electric have been accused of selling out. The Roches know that, so on the album-closing song, they equate success with pizza and yell with gleeful irony, "Gimme a slice!" If Another World were a crass, star-making face lift, the Roches' knowing laughter would sound like an earned reward. But by muting their distinctive genius without adding real commercial brilliance, this album will only mystify their cult. (RS 459)

ROB TANNENBAUM