May 3, 2002 By "the Flying Tigers," The Flying Tigers 5 min read

Sheryl Crow takes something from everyone to give something to everyone on “C’mon, C’mon.” The roster includes Stevie Nicks, Lenny Kravitz, Scott Weiland, Liz Phair, Emmylou Harris, Natalie Maines and Gwyneth Paltrow. Yet none of those guest performers overshadows Crow as she comfortably guides “C’mon, C’mon” through a multi-genre journey with multi-generational appeal. Rare is the singer who could sound so natural segueing from would-be classic rock (“Steve McQueen”) to melodious, lush pop (“It’s Only Love”) to raw country (“Abilene”).

Crow, who recently turned 40 and penned “C’mon, C’mon” as she recovered from a bad relationship, hasn’t grown much as a songwriter. That’s actually good news when she revisits themes that have worked well for her in the past. Just as they did with “All I Wanna Do,” “If It Makes You Happy” and “There Goes the Neighborhood,” fans will be cutting loose with the liberating new single “Soak Up the Sun,” an infectiously happy bit of girlish pop jangle that’s the perfect driving song, especially with summer just down the road.

Crow also knocks out a tender “It’s Only Love” in keeping with her past heartbreak cuts, “Strong Enough,” “Home” and “My Favorite Mistake.” And the singer’s generally at her strongest when she adopts a more introspective and mysterious air – as she does against the syncopated rhythm of “Safe and Sound,” on the starkly meditative “Weather Channel” and on the string-supported “Diamond Road.”

By contrast, Crow wastes her talent when she’s her most straightforward: A ragged duet with Don Henley (“It’s So Easy”) and a whiny, country-tinged cut about the difficulty of moving on after a breakup (“Over You”). These songs and others – including the sluggishly uninspiring title track – sound as if they were written and performed in Crow’s sleep.

Fortunately, her somnambulistic bouts only amount to a few naps on “C’mon, C’mon.”

Rating (five possible): 3-1/2The Flying Tigers are electrified but not electrifying on their self-titled debut.

The Los Angeles trio has a clever name, a good stylist, a special Flying Tigers logo and a blazing sound. Too bad the crisp package that is “The Flying Tigers” isn’t memorable for its songs.

Produced by Brendan O’Brien, notable for his work with Stone Temple Pilots, “The Flying Tigers” is a remarkably obvious knockoff of STP. But vocalist Ryan Martin, bass player Dorian Heartsong and drummer Gary Benson aren’t up to the task of imitation – not even when joined by O’Brien as an unofficial fourth Flying Tiger (O’Brien co-writes five of the album’s 11 tracks).

To be sure, the album is packed with tightly compressed rock that flaunts defiance, rage and self-destruction. But it’s not a good sign when the best line on the album is “Here I am, staring down my whole life” (on “What’s Become of Me”), and then doesn’t deliver what the singer sees. Instead, Martin merely switches back and forth between whining and anger. (Isn’t this why grunge went belly-up in the first place?)

And it doesn’t help that his voice is weak and the lyrics are worse – “I’m dying, dying alone here,” he pines on “Why,” while on “Detonate” Martin shocks with, “Nothing phases me until the darker side of me comes alive.”

Yet the Flying Tigers do all right in offering the pure visceral thrill of punched-up, sneering rock music. So at least they have that. Rating: 2-1/2

“When Do We Start Fighting …,” Seafood

Seafood has less fat than standard overprocessed rock fare, but the U.K. band is prone to steep its sound in a rich sauce of spicy guitar drones.

The act employs a naive and somewhat simplistic approach on its new “When Do We Start Fighting …” that awkwardly manifests itself into amateurishness on the discordant “What May Be the Oldest” and insubstantiality on the acoustic “Desert Stretched Before the Sun.” Yet there’s a heart and a measure of thoughtfulness at the core of most of Seafood’s material – even the misguided subliminal cut “He Collects Dust” and the mopey tracks “Similar Assassins” and “In This Light Will You Fight Me.”

“Splinter” sweeps in like a hurricane, driven by Charles MacLeod’s swarming guitar and David Line’s emotional wails. The momentum carries through to the urgent 1980s Goth-rock throwback, “Western Battle,” and later, guitar riffs pour down like sheets of rain on “Pleasurehead,” contrasted by Line’s sweet refrain, “You’re so beautiful when you shine for me.”

“People Are Underestimated” is a psychedelic loner of a song, a dreamy ditty whose syncopated beat pulls Line and drummer Caroline Banks along as they trade innocent vocals. On the flipside, “Cloaking” is unnerving as Line’s voice frantically quavers, backing vocals are shouted and the guitars roil into a furious upheaval.

“When Do We Start Fighting …” doesn’t quite come together because Seafood still seems to be finding its way. The group does have chemistry and ambition, however, so more consistent work is foreseeable.

Rating: 3

(Contact Chuck Campbell of The Knoxville News-Sentinel in Tennessee at http://www.knoxnews.com.)

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