THE HITS
Garth Brooks (Liberty 29689)
Considering the kind of success Garth Brooks has enjoyed over the last five years, it would stand to reason that any collection of his best work would say at least something about his cultural impact or artistic vision. But the only clear message that comes through with "The Hits" is that Brooks knows how to sell records. Instead of a coherent point of view, these singles offer a profoundly mixed message, what with the ultra-tolerant "We Shall Be Free" contrasted against the redneck gripes of "American Honky-Tonk Bar Association," or the party-hearty heroine of "Ain't Goin' Down (Til the Sun Comes Up)" finding her opposite in the good-timin' wife flattened by her hubby in "Papa Loved Mama." Moreover, Brooks never really conveys a clear musical identity, moving with a session man's lack of conscience from the cliched country of "Rodeo" and "Friends in Low Places" to the folkie introspection of "What She's Doing Now" and "That Summer," and onto the pop ambition of "The Thunder Rolls" and "Shameless." Could it be that Brooks' success had less to do with what he had to say than with the fact that nobody else was saying it?
NINETEEN NINETY QUAD
69 Boyz (Rip-It 6901)
Once Tag Team, 95 South and Duice proved that there was a national market for the Southern bass sound, it was inevitable that some band would reduce the whole thing to the lowest common denominator. But who would have thought that denominator would be as low or common as what turns up on the 69 Boyz' debut, "Nineteen Ninety Quad"? Although there's no denying the rhythmic urgency of call-and-response numbers like "Tootsee Roll" and "Kitty-Kitty," it must also be admitted that, on an intellectual level, those songs have the depth of dew. Apart from a few wonderfully stupid liquor jokes, like "Hennessy" (a parody of Arrested Development's "Tennessee"), most of the album is given over to sex talk of the kind normally offered by third-graders -- lots of allegedly naughty words, but little in the way of sense or wit. Worth owning only if you think "My Ding-a-Ling" really was Chuck Berry's greatest single.
THE UNPLUGGED COLLECTION: VOLUME ONE
Various Artists (Geffen 45774)
Now that MTV's "Unplugged" specials have become a genre unto themselves, along comes the most obvious cash-in: "The Unplugged Collection: Volume One." Except instead of offering the series' greatest hits, what we get here is an uneasy mix of big names and minor works, from Eric Clapton's merely passable "Before You Accuse Me" to Rod Stewart's totally tossed off "Gasoline Alley." Hard-core collectors will appreciate the chance own such rarities as R.E.M.'s exquisitely mournful "Half a World Away" or Stevie Ray Vaughan's sure-footed rip through "Pride and Joy," but on the whole, these "Unplugged" tracks are barely worth collecting.
DUMMY
Portishead (Go! Discs/London 422 828 553)
It's not hard to understand why Portishead is the darling of the English rock intelligentsia. Not only do the songs on "Dummy" draw from an incredibly hip range of sources, from hip-hop and trance to sampled jazz-fusion albums, but Portishead manages to mash it all down into precisely the sort of slow, drony muddle normally associated with guitar bands. Granted, that tends to make for better pop theory than it does pop music, particularly since Portishead's intentionally muffled textures make each song indistinguishable from the next. But there's enough life in Beth Gibbons' tart, haunted voice to keep the experience from becoming completely soporific -- though by album's end, you may find yourself wondering if the album's title doesn't refer to its intended audience.