By Doug Brumley

Mirwais

Production (Epic/Daylight/Naïve)

In the disposable world of dance and pop music, the discussion of what makes a good album should be preceded by an altogether more important question: “What makes it even worth purchasing?” I’d argue that it takes three tracks of hit material. Anyone can get lucky with one hit, and given a big enough recording budget, a second hit is inevitable—and before you know it, you’ve got Fush Yu Mang on your hands.

To the point, Smash Mouth, Collective Soul, and any number of groups can generate a hit song for an album—hell, they can even come up with two. But who among them has had three hits on the same album? None. They can only hope to spend some time away from the public and return with a shabby rewrite of their last hit two years later.

The album-focused mentality of musicians and record companies often leads pop groups down a dangerous route—most of them would be better off just releasing singles. Mirwais, producer extraordinaire of Madonna’s latest effort, Music, is no exception. His new album Production has enough material for a few good singles, but not much else. What’s the point of being an aloof artiste who makes dance music? The genre exists to be popular.

“Disco Science,” the first track on Production, ought to be a hit. It’s everything beautiful about Gallic house music: steady, heady drums; foggy bass; weird electronic noises; and little else. For three-and-a-half minutes, soaring electronics dive-bomb the listener as Mirwais introduces some guitars to space the song out. One could ask for little more. (Incidentally, Mirwais, so you know you’re not fooling anyone: I sussed out that “weird electronic noise” as the distorted vocal from The Breeders’ “Cannonball” as soon as I donned the headphones.)

Track 2, “Naïve Song,” is more of the same with vocals. Like some of the songs on Madonna’s Music, it seems a bit formulaic—but it’s a good formula. Mirwais’ vocals are nothing as annoying as Madonna’s, and they’re tweaked and effect-laden enough to keep this from being a strict pop song. After a small detour, the fourth track, “I Can’t Wait,” returns to the smoke machines and disco lights of “Disco Science.” It’s a page right out of the Daft Punk handbook: drum and single bass note on every beat at the beginning of the song. The track is dancier than anything on Music, the little outer-space noises are pretty damn cool, and like “Disco Science,” it leaves you wanting more.

Unfortunately, more is not to be delivered. The balance of the album fluctuates between slow experiments, which sound like mediations with computer software, and haphazard upbeat numbers. There’s a stab at garage, “Definitive Beat,” which is altogether too noisy to fit in with the rest of the record. There’s a reprise of the most insufferable track from the Madonna album, “Paradise (Not For Me).” And curiously, there’s “Never Young Again,” a song partly crafted out of leftover Music samples. Unfortunately, the self-referential nature of the track prevents it from being heard as its own piece. As one might expect from a five-minute collage of a Madonna album, there are good parts and bad.

The conundrum of being a dance-music producer releasing an album is one that few have solved. So far, none of the big names has followed the route of Daft Punk and Fatboy Slim (who succeeded only with You’ve Come a Long Way Baby) and released a wall-to-wall dance record. Daft Punk realize that house music is little more than a steady beat and a fluid bass line, and they strip their music bare save for these essentials, repeating them in five-minute doses underneath different noises. Fatboy Slim should realize the same, as his new record, full of too-clever production and bereft of the fun, stupid beats of Baby, falls on its face.

Like Basement Jaxx, Mirwais suffers under the illusion that his dance-music audience wants to hear him make non-dancey noises. Or perhaps that’s not fair—perhaps these artists’ record companies suffer that illusion. Epic should release a 12-inch of “Disco Science” and “I Can’t Wait,” and tell Mirwais to go back to the drawing board. But for now anyway, I don’t have to amend my determination that it takes three songs to make a halfway-decent pop record: Mirwais only racks up two-and-a-half on Production.

Low voltage

With his band Red House Painters in record-label limbo since 1996’s groundbreaking Songs for a Blue Guitar, frontman Mark Kozelek has found plenty to occupy his time. Although the perpetually downbeat singer-songwriter disappeared for the better part of two years, he emerged to contribute four solo tracks to the 1999 compilation Shanti Project Collection: Vol. 1. He then kicked off a busy 2000 with the release of Take Me Home: A Tribute to John Denver, an album compiled by Kozelek in which performers such as Low, The Innocence Mission, Bonnie Prince Billy, and Kozelek himself (both with and without the Red House Painters) quite successfully recast 12 Denver songs in their own molds.

He subsequently turned up as Stillwater’s bassist in Cameron Crowe’s film Almost Famous; released his compelling solo debut, Rock ’n’ Roll Singer, which featured three originals, an alternate take of his Denver tribute track “Around and Around,” and three early AC/DC covers; and lent a stripped-down version of “Around and Around” to The Unaccompanied Voice: An A Cappella Compilation.

If anything, Kozelek’s momentum is picking up in 2001: Just as news hit that Old Ramon—the Red House Painters album that’s been in the can since 1998—will finally be released April 10 on Sub Pop, he issued his second solo project, What’s Next to the Moon. Building on the AC/DC fetish unveiled on last year’s debut, the San Francisco-based artist employs only an acoustic guitar and his captivating voice to cover 10 Bon Scott-era AC/DC tunes in his trademark scrap-everything-but-the-lyrics style. It’s an approach that he has used since 1993 to create striking, unique versions of songs like KISS’ “Shock Me” and Paul McCartney’s “Silly Love Songs.”

What’s Next to the Moon marks the first time that Kozelek has dedicated an entire album to another artist’s material, however, and those familiar with his intensely personal originals may be shocked to hear the singer uttering such lines as, “I don’t need a conversation / I just want sweet sensation / I tell you what I’m gonna do / I’ll make a meal outta you” (from “Love Hungry Man”). While in the past he has traditionally covered songs that—once given the Kozelek treatment—are in lockstep with the musical style and emotional vibe of his own introspective, poignant songs, his selection of hell-raising, womanizing AC/DC lyrics reveals a brash and defiant tone not evident in earlier material. On a deeper level, though, the words still express the loneliness of a man searching for love from others and from himself—a theme upon which Kozelek has built his career.

Musically, the arrangements and melodies are solid, though not as inventive as Kozelek has shown he is capable of being. Combine that with the fact that the 10 tracks barely break the 30-minute mark, and this album pales when compared to Kozelek’s debut. In fact, three of the strongest songs from this disc are also on his debut (one in identical form and two in superior versions). So while completists will certainly want to check out What’s Next to the Moon, those interested in seeing Kozelek at his best should opt for Rock ’n’ Roll Singer or, better yet, dig into the Red House Painters’ wonderful back catalog.

Musically, the arrangements and melodies are solid, though not as inventive as Kozelek has shown he is capable of being. Combine that with the fact that the 10 tracks barely break the 30-minute mark, and this album pales when compared to Kozelek’s debut. In fact, three of the strongest songs from this disc are also on his debut (one in identical form and two in superior versions). So while completists will certainly want to check out What’s Next to the Moon, those interested in seeing Kozelek at his best should opt for Rock ’n’ Roll Singer or, better yet, dig into the Red House Painters’ wonderful back catalog.