Garbage - beautifulgarbage

Got brass... in pocket, so I'm gonna make you, make you, make you buy this Pretenders cover album... Okay, if you didn't get my reference, then don't sweat it. BeautifulGarbage is the newest album by the seminal proto-pop band Garbage, their third album to date. Garbage scoffed at all the critics with an excellent sophomore album, "Version2.0" and has continued sowing a great fanbase, largely because of the undeniable sexiness of front woman Shirley Manson, also of Angelfish. Understandably, this great fanbase was clamoring for this new album, and I, being part of the fanbase, bought it today as soon as I could, and spent many a winding, out-of-my-way road listening to it. My conclusions leave me disheartened, I hate to say... beautifulgarbage starts with a bang: Songs "Shut Your Mouth" and "Androgyny" tackle the ears like an ocular dominatrix. These songs boast seamless production and a more techno-y feel without loosing itself behind Shirley's Scottish purr. Garbage then show their hand in "Can't Cry These Tears", which latches onto doo-whop and Billy Ocean, moving around like only the best pop songs can. You must fight the urge to replay it when it's finished, it's that catchy and through its antique rhythms almost cataclysmically unique. "Til the Day that I Die" is obviously a salute to Chrissie Hynde, but since I don't care for the Pretenders I didn't really embrace this song fully, nor did I particularly do much but wade in the tear-jerking "Cup Of Coffee", which was not so Chrissie Hynde as it was Susana Hoff's "Eternal Flame" lament, but both songs were catchy and quirky in their own way. Mr. Vig, who usually gets heavy-handed with the glossy coat of production, seems to only daub at the edges of "Cup of Coffee", so it comes out a bit more heartfelt, but I couldn't help feeling as though I was hearing someone's high school poetry. The avalanche of "eehh, it was okay" songs suddenly climb into a mountain-top, where Ms. Manson is snatching sexual entende and undertone and lying it out for you in the thrash-core pop of "Cherry Lips (Go Baby Go)." Blondie would be proud, and this song is genuinely fun to listen to, as though you're back on the water-skis with the Go-Go's. "Parade", the tenth track, follows a similar mood but without the infectious chorus or bounce-on-your-bed energy. Then Shirley's obvious sadness with everything, which was painstakingly posted on the Garbage web site throughout recording, decides to float on its back through the rest of the album. The only standout is "So Like a Rose", which is a beautiful and shimmering portrait of the beauty of pain. "Drive You Home", "Breaking Up the Girl", and "Nobody Loves You" carry the album, but not in a flattering way... They are like the the cousin you have to be nice to, who's not a bad person actually, but that you simply don't want to socialize with unless you must. Garbage has made a pretty good album, even though Shirley seems to think she's in the Pretenders, she does surface a bit with her old self in "Untouchable." It's a tribute to the 80's, the 50's, and the future. Garbage has grown melodically and they've gotten older, as they've slowed down a bit since their debut album. This is a good effort, especially for their third album, and it must be admired that they didn't stick to what they knew. By changing their sound's direction to a more treble path, Garbage may open themselves up to more obscurity, rather than suddenly go superstar like Incubus. All in all, a good record, a concert-worthy record, but I'm not buying the T-shirt, because, by the sound of the lyrics and production, Garbage is starting to feel the pain of fame, and I'd rather not indulge their aches, but the album rocks in a way lots of music today is incapable of doing, so I recommended it. [www.garbage.com]