If albums were women, 'Slip of the Tongue' would be the proverbial Ice Queen. Not passionate enough to evoke pleasure, not rude enough to spark contempt, it is an album that shies from both ends of the emotional spectrum. In short, Slip of the Tongue is one dull date.

Whitesnake's last album may have been a tad too radio friendly, but it had its moments. You couldn't help but be suckered in by the sinister guitar intro to "Crying in the Rain" or the raspy sexiness of the horns on "Is This Love?" There's nothing that sounds even remotely às heartfelt on Slip of the Tongue.

Axe slinger Steve Vai, who sat in for the injured Adrian Vandenberg on the album and is now a member of the band, could have been the saving grace had he not been buried under a mishmash of sappy string arrangements and declawed power chords. Vai's inventive noodlings and his talent for producing quirky harmonics provide some bright moments, but for the most part, he's so ankle-deep in sludge that he couldn't step into the spotlight and sparkle without leaving his shoes behind. Only two tracks on Slip of the Tongue provoke any reaction. "Now You're Gone" makes you wonder why Whitesnake would want to write a song so derivative of the theme from Flashdance, while "Slow Poke Music" has a strong enough groove that you almost want to listen to it again.

Slip of the Tongue? Slip of the Scalpel would have been more like it. This album won't leave you feeling exhilarated, and it won't leave you feeling disgusted. Like a musical lobotomy, it will leave you feeling nothing. (RS 571)

KIM NEELY