Must-hears for your ears - and one dud

Interview, August, 1995 by Peter Galvin, Ray Rogers, Christopher D. Colthart, Dimitri Ehrlich, Alison Powell, Henry Cabot Beck, Jill Derryberry, Amy Linden

Aimee Mann While Aimee Mann has always had a Fab Four fixation, on her new album, the meticulously crafted I'm with Stupid (Imago/Reprise), Mann's plucky Beatlesesque melodies are laced with a strong dose of don't-fuck-with-me guitar buzz as she perpetually wavers between hope and despair.

Luna Escapist fantasies like "Moon Palace" and "Lost in Space" match clever rhymes with spacey guitar lines on Luna's third album, Penthouse (Elektra), much as you'd expect from singer Dean Wareham, the former navigator of Galaxie 500. More remarkable, and more revealing, are songs about a bigger sense of being lost. On the bittersweet single "Chinatown," Wareham sings of wandering through the tiny hours of the morning, engulfed in thought and too much drink, at an utter loss in life. Meanwhile, the band provides the perfect setting for listeners to lose themselves in: simple, spacious, intoxicating arrangements that, like those of Luna's forefathers, the Velvets, work miracles with three chords.

Neil Young Mirror Ball (Reprise) is a perfect example of how Neil Young can be overrated and godlike at the same time. It's good to hear ol' Neil rockin' out again, supported by surprisingly subdued members of Pearl Jam, but things occasionally get a little too comfortable, sounding a bit like a beer ad. Nevertheless, every song has moments when that innocent voice and rusty guitar cut through the haze, revealing a deity with wispy hair, tangled sideburns, and a vintage Les Paul that he just won't put down.

Patra Beginning with an ecstatically sexual cover of Grace Jones's disco classic "Pull Up to the Bumper," Jamaican siren Patra wails, coos, and chats her way through Scent of attraction (550 Music). Earthy, rough-edged, and exuberantly in-your-face, Patra's passion for life and sheer energy come crashing through in every note of this joyride to the cutting edge of club-oriented dancehall.

Edwyn Collins's third solo album and first-ever U.S. release, the superior Gorgeous George (Bar/None), evinces a tart combination of trenchant lyrics and maverick production. The former leader of the Scottish jangle-pop avatars Orange Juice, Collins careens willfully from the bitter worldliness of "Low Expectations" to the dancefloor swing of "A Girl Like You," a sternum-jogging love song. And "The Campaign for Real Rock" offers an excoriating mantra for the Lollapalooza season: "Yes, yes, yes, it's the summer festival/The truly detestable summer festival."

Tammy Wynette & George Jones They're still not the jet set; they're the Jones and Wynette set. And on One (MCA Nashville), the former King and Queen of Country Music prove that George Jones's aged bourbon baritone and Tammy Wynette's plaintive wail, which once spoke of trailer parks and Karen Black mascara, are still peak. While they are no longer one, neither has strayed from the hokum or the heartache; George and Tammy still rule.

Foo Fighters Stepping out from behind the drum kit, Nirvana's Dave Grohl presents himself as a convincingly earnest singer and an edgy guitarist with Foo Fighters. Joined with Pat Smear (ex-Germs guitarist and later a Nirvana recruit) and the rhythm section of Seattle's Sunny Day Real Estate, the supergroup unjustly faces the kinds of expectations and daunting legacy that few bands could ever hope to live up to. But the Foos enter the arena well prepared: With crashing cadences, memorable harmonies, and pummeling fury, their self-titled debut (Roswell/Capitol) triumphs over the current glut of mass-marketed punk-by-numbers.

Shampoo Supposing John Lydon shagged Kylie Minogue behind the bicycle shed, the progeny still wouldn't be half as fabulous as Jacqui and Carrie, those heavenly creatures in Shampoo. As hard as Barbie and infinitely better dressed, the self-styled teen megababes responsible for We Are Shampoo (IRS) spew forth electropop bubblegum for jailbait of all ages - singing, sort of, about the truly important things. Mainly themselves.

Michael Jackson His self-appointed title is King of Pop. His new album for Epic Records (half greatest hits, half smarmy new ballads and dance tracks featuring lots of last year's hit producers) is called HIStory, It's a good name, because, creatively speaking, that's what he is.

Guru in 1993, Jazzmatazz Vol. I set out to prove that jazz and hip-hop share common ground. Guru, who as part of Gangstarr was one of the first rappers to utilize jazz samples, assembled players from both sides of the fence to throw down a fluid, funky excursion. Jazzmatazz Vol. II - The New Reality (EMI) doesn't hold quite the same charm. Thanks to DJ Premier, the beats are solid, and guests like Chaka Khan and Shara Nelson add their own flavor. But the waters are muddled by Guru's constant insistence that he is breaking bold new territory.