Gordon Lightfoot Book, Music and More!

Hamilton, Ont., which spawned Canrock pioneers Crowbar and ethereal producer Daniel Lanois, is now also responsible for Kazzer, hip-hop’s latest Great White Hope. Although he’s no Eminem, the rapper born Mark Kasprzyk has real star potential, as proven by confident tracks like the reggae-tinged “Loaded Tight” and the smooth flowing “When It Rains It Pours.” On top of that, he’s both a breakdancer and a judo champ (check out the athletic stunts in his “Pedal to the Metal” video) and looks like a blonde Tom Cruise.

Like The Datsuns, The D4 is part of a growing garage-rock contingent from New Zealand. Both bands play loud and fast, with more than a few nods to AC/DC and Motorhead. But where The D4 differs is with the bluesy swagger of tracks like “Ladies Man” and “Pirate Love.” Otherwise, it’s all cautionary tales about wanton hussies (“Heartbreaker”) and hedonistic hymns like “Party” and “Exit to the City” about busting out on Saturday night. The band’s credo: “Get up, get out and get loose.” Party on!

Mr. Bad to the Bone hasn’t done anything good for years. The blues-rock guitarist is often dismissed by blues purists for his formulaic approach to the ’50s Chicago blues style pioneered by Elmore James and Hound Dog Taylor. Thorogood’s latest includes covers of Taylor’s “She’s Gone” as well as Bo Diddley’s “You Don’t Love Me, You Don’t Care” and the John Lee Hooker title track. It’s real meat-and-potatoes stuff—so basic that it leaves you craving blues with a little garnish and some sautéed vegetables.

As the daughter of the King of Rock ’n’ Roll and the former wife of the self-proclaimed King of Pop (a.k.a. Wacko Jacko), poor little Lisa Marie comes with a whole heap of baggage. But the tabloid target is sure to silence her critics with her long-awaited debut. Inheriting her father’s deep, sultry voice and writing all of the songs, including the hard-rocking confessional “S.O.B.” and “Lights Out,” the surprisingly frank ode to Graceland’s dark side, Elvis’ and Priscilla’s lovechild has acquitted herself admirably.

Montreal’s pop-noir orchestra deals in arty epics about the life’s warp and woof. Like Hawksley Workman, chief Dear Murray Lightburn favors panoramic vistas and grand gestures with decidedly dark, witty twists. “Expect the Worst/Cos She’s Tourist” begins as a baroque tale about “aeroplanes and buxom dames” before shifting into narcotic lounge music. “Who are you, Defender of the Universe?” has a suitably sinister, sci-fi quality, while “Postcard from Purgatory” is—what else?—a hellish tale of heartache.

Everything about the Stripes is delicious, from their playful peppermint-candy motif and the clever media prank about Jack and Meg White being siblings (ex-spouses, actually) to the Detroit duo’s thrilling embrace of garage rock and country blues. Their fourth album boasts even more tasty surprises, adding piano, bass and layered vocals to their stripped-down sound—and expanding their repertoire to include everything from Queen-like operatic flourishes to a wacky Bacharach cover. Inspired and loaded with good humor.

Any band that had three guitar gods—namely Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page—pass through its ranks is bound to enjoy mythological status. So The Yardbirds legend lives on, even 35 years after the group’s demise. First, there was this year’s reissue of the band’s last studio album, Little Games. Now comes this odd offering, featuring founding members Chris Dreja and Jim McCarty and various guest guitarists, including Beck. Yet, strangely, the rerecorded hits and other Yardbirds-style material sound surprisingly good.

With the crackling sound of Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, Lucinda Williams took a stranglehold on yearning vocals. That big ache is back on her latest, a superb collection that rivals even Car Wheels’ brilliance. Songs like “Righteously” boast a sensuality bordering on horniness, while the gutbucket blues of “Atonement” and the understated protest of “American Dream” tackle social issues with a vengeance. But one of the most stunning tracks is “Those Three Days,” a song of deep, palpable desperation.

Russell Crowe has drawn plenty of skeptics with this oddly named group, although he actually started making music with them long before becoming a Hollywood star. On his new album, the Aussie heartthrob seems determined to be taken more seriously, injecting a tougher, rockier sound and recruiting Pretender Chrissie Hynde to sing a duet with him on “Never Be Alone Again.” But aside from that one track, there’s little here to recommend. Crowe’s voice and songs, while pleasant enough, simply cannot raise this above vanity-project status.

Nigerian master drummer Tony Allen was the rhythmic power behind Afrobeat king Fela Kuti’s throne—the bandleader needed four drummers to replace him when the two parted ways in the late 1970s. Allen’s own star has risen recently—especially in the wake of Kuti’s death in 1997 and the renewed interest in Afrobeat music. Here, Allen stretches his music’s boundaries, venturing into r&b territory on “Calling,” collaborating with Brit rapper Ty on the anti-war “Don’t Fight” and teaming up with Blur’s Damon Albarn on the infectious, shuffling title track.