Kristin Hersh: Sky Motel (4AD)
Just when we were getting sick of her folksy, finger-picayune phase, the former Throwing Muses singer has decided to plug the guitars back in and get all electric on our asses. Hersh has decided to play all the instruments herself, enlisting the help of Carlo Nuccio and David Narcizo for percussion on a few tracks - but though it tries for a band feel, Sky Motel comes across as one woman's quest for raucous indie redemption, as Hersh hollers the lyrics for Echo, White Trash Moon, A Cleaner Light and San Francisco like a lost Appalachian wildcat in search of its home. The dark, country-grunge style is redolent of Beck's Mutations, with Costa Rica as Hersh's own Tropicalia, but the effect is dulled by the knowledge that Hersh isn't simply fooling around until her next album proper - she's darn tootin' serious.
Kevin Courtney
The Frames: Dance The Devil . . . (ZTT)
With their third album topping the Tower Records' best-selling album chart, it's plain that The Frames' home support is as strong as ever. Dublin's crusty kings are now signed to ZTT Records, and none other than Trevor Horn has produced this album; however, some of The Frames' more irritating traits are still evident. Singer Glen Hansard can make the most inane situation seem portentous and tragic, hence the overwrought delivery on Seven Day Mile and the hammy overacting on Star Star; luckily, the riffage of Pavement Tune and God Bless Mom are firmly down-to-earth. The Frames are at their best when they tread the middle path between acoustic instrospection and white-out grunge, as on Perfect Opening Line and Rent Day Blues, and sometimes Hansard even delivers a killer lyric which justifies his grunge-guru status.
Kevin Courtney
Sarah McLachlan: Mirrorball (Arista)
The queen of that touring ensemble of female performers, the phenomenally popular Lillith Fair, releases a live album. Should we be surprised? Hardly. Indeed, it may be the pressures of organising and participating in Lillith Fair which has led to the dearth of new material from McLachlan. Fans will already have most of what's here - in fact, as a fan, I'd much prefer songs like Fumbling Towards Ecstasy without the added chorus of cheers and screams. At times - during, say, Building A Mystery - the cheers even seem to have been brought to the forefront in the mix to highlight the audience response to specific lyrics. Tatty. It's selling Lillith Fair by the truckload, but it's not the best introduction to the work of our Sarah.
Joe Jackson