The Smithereens are often accused of wearing their mid-Sixties rock & roll hearts on their sleeves, of merely recycling influences which run the gamut from A to B (Beatles, Beach Boys, Beau Brummels). For those who'd shrug them off as hopelessly retro, the group makes moves like inviting the Cowsills to sing backup on one song from Blow Up, a gesture either so warped it's cool or just plain pathetic. Even the album's title goes beyond an obvious reference to the foursome's name: Blow-Up was Michelangelo Antonioni's notorious 1966 cinematic dissection of Swinging London, which featured a powerful scene of the Yardbirds smashing instruments in a frenzy of auto-destruction. But to dismiss the Smithereens as mere revivalists would be wrong. The band's unshakable devotion to the possibilities of the guitar quartet is vindicated by the massive modern-day crunch captured in numbers like "Girl in Room 12." Producer and fellow Jerseyan Ed Stasium enlarged the group's sound on its 1989 album, 11, until it matched the final setting on Nigel Tufnel's beloved amp in This Is Spinal Tap. While hardly marking a retreat behind that wall of noise, Stasium and the group have built upon that solid foundation to make Blow Up a more versatile, fluid record.

As constant as the Smithereens' 4/4 pounding is Pat DiNizio's songwriting. The dour DiNizio still examines romance as the distance sets in; almost every song deals with loss, resignation, regret. Even the finale, "If You Want the Sun to Shine," written with Julian Lennon, is unconditional, leaving no hope for the separated lovers to work things out.

The Smithereens' approach may wear thin soon enough. It could be argued that the progress shown from record to record has been too small and that the charts have proved nonmetal guitar groups doomed anyway. But if there's room in rock & roll's eternally changing priorities for thriving tradition – not just nostalgia masquerading as classicism – the Smithereens may just hang together. (RS 616)

WAYNE KING