Music review
Jimmy Fallon is the more entertaining of the two current co-hosts of “Weekend Update” on “Saturday Night Live,” but considering his partner is the smug and remarkably unfunny Tina Fey, that’s not saying much. Wave after wave of marginally talented comics have been foisted on America from the “SNL” roster, many of them getting breaks they never deserved – including the unimaginative Fallon, who stumbles out on his own with “The Bathroom Wall.” In just more than half an hour, he’s an impressionist, a song parodist and a stand-up comedian, likely doing it all because he’s not particularly good at any one thing. “The Bathroom Wall” starts with a genre-hopping spate of five songs, with each cut a bit worse than its predecessor. Opening track “Idiot Boyfriend” is a funky pop ditty with Fallon employing a falsetto to sing about the bad things bad boyfriends do … like sleeping with their girlfriends’ best friends, ha ha.
Next he enthusiastically extends the one-joke “(I Can’t Play) Basketball” into a full-length rock cut, which is followed by the lame country-fried “Drinking in the Woods.” “Road Rage,” about Fallon darting around on his “souped-up moped,” is a desperate bid for rush-hour airplay, and the punk “Snowball” documents a snowball fight – absurd, but not absurd enough to be humorous. The rest of “The Bathroom Wall” is a protracted, scratched-up slice of Fallon’s stand-up routine for an easily amused college crowd. The highlight of this stint is a bit about the impracticality of a mini-refrigerator, like how the freezer compartment is just big enough for the useless miniature ice tray that comes with the unit.
The stand-up part also includes Fallon’s serviceably accurate though unengaging imitations of music acts from U2 to the Dave Matthews Band and performers from Robin Williams to Adam Sandler, the latter of which will leave listeners longing for Sandler’s comic genius. Enough said?
Rating (five possible): 2
“‘Swimfan’ Soundtrack,” various acts
TVT Soundtrax wisely adopts tunnel vision for its “Swinfan” soundtrack, limiting the scope of the compilation to anguished, edgy rock
By forgoing the mind-boggling diversions that usually undermine soundtracks – say, putting a remake of a classic rock hit after a hip-hop track followed perhaps by a bit of instrumental score – TVT takes dead aim at the young thrill-seekers who are also expected to turn out for the movie about a woman’s obsession for a champion swimmer.
The soundtrack’s undiluted focus should be rewarding for fans of the hard-ish rock genre, and it features enough obscure acts to make the compilation more than a mere rehash of familiar songs. Bellowing vocals, bossy beats and earnest theatrics work to riveting appeal on such cuts as Sevendust’s “Black,” Pacifier’s “Everything” and Portable’s “Roll Over & Play Dead.” Inventive twists add flavor to other tracks, though not so much that the soundtrack strays from its mission. Celebrity’s “Cave” goes on a Cure-esque dreamy bent without losing its “tough” credibility, for example, and Pay the Girl’s “Clueless” does the same with bluesy licks and a sense of humor.
Considering the format, it’s a wonder more cuts don’t overplay the drama the way Wayne (“Slow Down”), Allergic (“Down to Me”) and Flaw (the hilariously overwrought “Whole”) do. But thanks to admirable quality control, the genre’s tendency for mopey self-indulgence is largely held at bay.
Rating: 3-1/2
“Pure Chill Out,” various acts
A woman with arms outstretched floats upward on the cover of “Pure Chill Out,” implying the disc might induce spontaneous coma – or perhaps some kind of “Exorcist”-style possession.
UTV should have tried a more inviting way to promote this subliminally stimulating compilation, subtitled “The Definitive Down-Tempo Collection,” because it provides a cuddly warmth without resorting to excessive bouts of drowsiness.
That’s not to say insomniacs couldn’t take refuge in the languid, repetitive loops of Waldeck’s “Aquarius” and Baby Mammoth’s “I’m Not Joking,” but “Pure Chill Out” usually offers more variety and excitement than provided by those dull songs.
Bent’s “Always,” for instance, is mesmerizing with a dramatic danceable urgency, while ORG Lounge’s “Amon Dur” fires up torchy touches and Afterlife’s “Makes Me Feel” infuses swooping synths with jazzy vocals and persuasive percussion.
The mood also shifts around, from the melancholy lushness of Moby’s “Rushing” to the hypnotic Enigma-like voodoo of Delerium’s “Enchanted” to the subtle horror-soundtrack effects of Nightmares on Wax’s “Stars.” A trio of women singers have diva moments incompatible with the compilation’s overall atmosphere – Julia Messenger with the downcast “I Miss You,” Heather Nova with the lavish “Gloomy Sunday” and Julee Cruise with the self-conscious “The Orbiting Beatnik” – but more typically the collection maintains an even keel of instrumental-driven evocation. Yet even satisfactorily chilled listeners shouldn’t expect to astral project.
Rating: 3-1/2
(Contact Chuck Campbell of The Knoxville News-Sentinel in Tennessee at http://www.knoxnews.com.)
(Contact Chuck Campbell of The Knoxville News-Sentinel in Tennessee at http://www.knoxnews.com.)