By Lindsey Rhoades
By Chaz Kangas
By Ben Westhoff and Sarah Purkrabek
By Jena Ardell
By Jesse Sendejas Jr.
By Katherine Turman
By Steve Weinstein
By Araceli Cruz
My best woman pal has a theory that worldwide pollution, coupled with the jamming of hormones and antibiotics into beef cattle, has impacted men adversely. It's hit some square in the nuts, she says, bringing on a feminization of sex-linked characteristicsatrophy of the upper arm, widening of the hips, softening of the face, a shapely rounding of the bottom.
Looking at the Androids album cover, it could be true. Even a group pose in front of a wall of speaker cabinets can't fix them. The Androids' power treacle might be treasure for the Disney Channel. But everyone else will roll their eyes at "Do It With Madonna," a wish of the singer that can in no way be believed, given the evidence at hand. Androids tunes often start with a clicking rhythm box, tooa dreadful gimmick that foils even the barrel-scraping bargain price of $9.00.
Also fresh from the nine-buck bin is Damone's From the Attic. RCA's stab at a heavy coveroh, look at the Marshall stackstarts it off on the wrong foot. One expects brutal explosion, but what one gets is Noelle, a 17-year-old whose weaknesses include not being able to sing and a lack of gracious reticence in public. "One time in my eighth grade science class, I fell asleep and my own fart woke me up," she reveals in promo nose-gold.
From the Attic
The vocals are fixed with multi-layering, but it's hard to squeegee much more from Noelle's wet-carwash-girl-at-the-carwash shtick. The troublesome Lord-Alge is at work, too, adding liters of studio helium to an effort already light on muscle. "At the Mall"brrrris one brief hit: almost like the Sweet, because the guys stop slacking off.