1991 Part One
Chronology (from the original Jesus Jones website)
January - "Doubt" album gets it's UK release and enters the chart at #1. The band are quite pleased.
February - "Who, where, why" single released, hits #21. Major UK tour during which the bands bus driver is sacked for deciding "I drive better drunk out of me mind".
March-June - "Doubt" is on it's American holiday, dawdling up the US charts into the Top 30.
July - The band play Wembley Stadium, supporting INXS and in front of 72,000 people. "Right Here, right now" reaches #2 in the U.S.'s Billboard chart, #1 in R'n'R. Doubt sells over 1 million copies in the US. The band are quite pleased, especially when they win an MTV award for "Best New Artist in a Video".
December - Headline Food Christmas Show at the Brixton Academy - the line up is Whirlpool, Diesel Park West, Blur , Jesus Jones.
JESUS JONES second album, 'Doubt', enters the U.K. chart at Number 1, going gold overnight. Mike is at home when his manager calls with the news. Does he throw the TV out of the window? No. Mike thinks, 'shit, that makes us the new New Kids On The Block.' Fortunately for Mike's sanity, the album drops down the chart quicker than you can say "Morrissey" but a disaster is round the corner. After touring the U.K. and the U.S. (plus releasing their poppiest single to date, 'Who? Where? Why?', which reaches 21 in February), America goes ballistic for the JONES boys. In July 'Right Here, Right Now' reaches Number 2 in America, and 'Doubt' sells over a million copies. JESUS JONES come home in style, playing to 72,000 at Wembley Stadium supporting INXS, then fly back to America for the MTV Awards. Much to the disinterest of their roadies and the astonishment of the band they pick up a gong for Best Band Named After The Son Of God.... No, just kidding, it was Best New Video. Mike's speech in full: "We're going to call it Eric." Meanwhile, young upstarts EMF are reaping similar rewards but despite peer pressure, JESUS JONES refuse to be drawn into a Blur V Oasis scenario.
Peaking at No.7, "International Bright Young Thing" was the band's first top 10 hit. Their gravel-like harmonies grated against a hard dance rhythm, and even in a chart where indie/dance crossover had become the norm rather than the exception, this maintained the band's individuality.
Jesus Jones promo photos (Credit - Aleutia Shannon) click to open bigger versions
The previous three singles were a good indication that the second album was going to be very different from the first, and in the wake of "International Bright Young Thing", "Doubt" was released on 28th January. Where the unrelenting barrage of "Liquidizer" was a little too radical and raw for general chart acceptance, "Dount" clearly showed their uncompromising grasp of pop sensibilities and stormed in at pole position, quickly achieving gold in the UK album chart.
EMI did not take the band's potential for global success lightly, and simultaneously released the LP worldwide. It reaches the Top 30 in America.
In February, Jesus Jones kicked off on another tour before the release of their next single "Who? Where? Why?" was issued on February 8th and capitalized on the success of the previous two vinyl offerings, reaching No. 21.
Without pause, the group departed in March on a world tour that would take them back to the US and Canada in May. Then they moved on to New Zealand, Australia and Japan before returning home in July to support INXS at Wembley playing to 72,000. In December they headline the Food Christmas Show at the Brixton Academy.
Interview - Sounds - circa January 1991
All in all, 1990 was a good year of praise-the-Lord dimensions for old Jesus.
"We've been to Japan, had our first trip to America, got our first hit," says vocalist Mike Edwards.
It wouldn't be putting too fine a point on it to say that Jesus Jones feel like the world's at their feet. But in the fickle world of rock 'n' roll - where audiences drop bands as quickly as they pick up on them - the fact that JJ's last single, 'Right Here Right Now', failed to emulate the success of 'Real Real Real', would have had a lot of bands chewing at their manager's trouser leg.
But sitting in a wine bar in London's West End, Mike and keyboardist Ian ('Barry D') aren't even slightly fazed.
Mike: "It did exactly what we wanted it to do. That was our sacrificial pawn single. Everyone said, it's not as commercial as our other singles but what it was meant to do was show people there's another side to Jesus Jones. Poeple thought, Jesus Jones...and an image came to mind that was wrong. It was intended to shake peoples' preconceptions up.
"Rather than putting the pressure on us, it takes the pressure off. If you get thrown into that commercial lion's den and try to make yourself a commercial band, the moment a single doesn't succeed on that basis, you are seen to have failed. With this single, that commercial element wasn't there, so any success was a bonus. I felt really chuffed that it went into the Top 40."
And the new album, 'Doubt' - which is out at the end of January - may well shake a few more preconceptions. It sees the band at their hardest and most eclectic yet.
"The album is the counter-swing from 'Liquidizer'" says Mike. "Each track is different, it's an album of extremes. In a way, it's like The Beatles' 'White Album'...it had so many different types of music."
"We're in an age where peoples specialise so highly, it's like pedigree dogs - they're refined so much that they become disgusting and disfigured. You look at all those baggy bands and you're looking at in-breds. You're looking at the equivalent of the three-eyed, two-toothed hick."
That said, Jesus Jones' new single, 'International Bright Young Thing', is a return to the commercial lion's den and should see them storm the TOTP barricades once more.
Jesus Jones are confident about that. In fact, they're confident about everything. When Sounds spoke to them at the beginning of 1990, they were planning no less a feat than changing the face of rock music. A year on, they think they've gone a long way to doing just that.
"Clearly," reckons Mike. "Look at the Top Five now - there's one band who are clearly influenced by us. We've already changed the way people perceive the way rock music should be made and should sound. I didn't expect it to happen quite this soon, but there it is, and we haven't even started yet."
The 'one band' is obviously EMF.
"A great many of our detractors are using EMF as a stick to beat us with," muses Mike, in one of many complaints about the persecution they feel they've received in the press. Throughout the interview they cite examples of how they've been misunderstood...
"'Real Real Real' was definitely our most misunderstood," he considers. "It's laughing at ourselves. It was a parody of crap pop lyrics, mostly soul lyrics, where people use the term 'real' when they've run out of any suitable adjective. Some idiot called it gormless."
Life in Jonestown is certainly not bereft of humour - everyone in the band is blighted by at least one nickname: Mike has been Foghorn Leghorn ever since an early review likened him to the big cartoon chicken from the deep south of America. Gen is known as The Mighty Atom and The Human Pellet on account of his stature and energy and "aerodynamic qualities" respectively.
Guitarist Jerry has been known as 'Meester English' ever since a dubious Romanian fan tried to get his attention by grabbing his nether regions - "Meester English, it's so big!" Mike and Ian cackle in delight, before casting grave doubts on the accuracy of the quote. Ian picked up the 'Barry D' moniker after making the mistake of commenting on how awful the name Barry would be for a dog - he's been Barry Dog ever since.
But the most fascinating nicknames are reserved for bassist Al, known variously as Wiggy Stardust ("Due to his hair, which is not his own, and his Bowie fixation"), Onionhead ("If you pull his hair out, there it is") and Tagnut The Bold ("It's getting crude and intricate. A tagnut is a cling-on, a dangleberry. He just turned up one day with his suitcase and latched on!"). Poor Al.
While JJ's claims of changing the way rock music is perceived are debatable, their confidence does have a certain charm.
They're also unusual in at least one respect - their first single, 'Info Freako' cost a mere £120 to record. But even after all this time and success, 'International Bright Young Thing' was recorded on a comparitive shoestring of a budget.
Ian: "I did a remix which was £80. Obviously you refine your techniques and you can record things better, but we've never been the sort of band that says, Oh we're two years on, therefore we have to..."
Mike: "It was recorded in a session. We did the whole LP and the songs for the EP, which amounted to about 14 songs. It's more expensive than 'Info Freako', but it won't be anything like ten times as expensive."
That's only £1,200.
Mike: "Yeah. If you work it out, it'll probably be about £6-700. Recording's still pretty cheap you know..."
That amount of money, of course wouldn't pay the tea boy in the studios where most chart bands record.
It's a nice anomaly and a good indication as to why it would be unfair to mistake Mike and Ian's supreme confidence for arrogance. As well as being immensely amicable, they're pretty happy go lucky and as, they put it, "willing to talk about anything".
So, they've been good enough to clear up a few mysteries of the planet for us. Does it feel real? Cos if so, we'd like to know: The Loch Ness Monster?
Ian: "I'd love to think that'd be real. That'd be so wild. I know it's a big twatter of a lake, but if I was ever elected PM - then the country would be f**cked anyway, but - I'd get up there with industrial pumps and drain the f**kin' lake. If you wanna find out about the Bermuda Triangle you drain the sea! They spend all their time sailing around in boats, waiting for it to pop out of the water. Useless! Absolutely useless."
"Skirting the perimeter," Mike nods in agreement.
"It wouldn't be too much of a problem, all you've got to do is get a dirty great big pipeline in..."
Loch Ness is actually connected to the sea.
Mike: "No problem" You just damn it."
Ian: "Seal up the end with concrete, put a turbine in and suck all the water out. We can provide hydro-electric power for the whole of the country while we're draining it."
Mike: "Being connected to the sea might be a problem it you're going to try and drain the Bermuda Triangle, seeing as all the seas are connected anyhow..."
Ian: "Oh right. I was going to put all the water from the Atlantic into the Pacific. Ha! Ha!"
Looks like the Bermuda Triangle will have to wait even when we have JJ as PM then.
Mike puts down the International Dark Hariy Things known as Yetis to a more rational explanation.
"As you go up a mountain," he begins, "there's less oxygen and your head doesn't react the same way. Your brain plays tricks on you - it's tripping mountaineers!"
Which doesn't really explain Bigfoot in America but, as Ian puts it, "There are a lot of Americans out there with some strange ideas. I wouldn't put it past a few of the Americans we met out there to go around dressed in a bloody bear suit."
Spontaneous combustion definitely gets the real real real thumbs up from the chaps, but they're not worried about any Spinal Tap-style exits from drummer Gen.
Ian: "He sweats too much onstage! He could put himself out, he's self-extinguishing. There might be a slight sqwoosh! noise, and he'd be sitting there smouldering."
Added to this, UFOs don't exist and it was Laura Palmer that shot John F Kennedy. As they go on to chat with knowledge and enthusiasm about the Marie Celeste and Picnic At Hanging Rock mysteries, it becomes clear that Jesus Jones have an opinion on everything.
"Except golf and fishing," admits Mike.
"But we'll tak about them anyway!" adds Ian, with a grin.
Jesus Jones: world problems, world solutions.
Review of Doubt - Probably from Sounds - circa January 1991
Remember all those assurances by 'modest' Mike Edwards that this would be "an
album of extremes"? Well, surprise surprise, he wasn't talking bollocks.
'Doubt' takes us on a musical trip that might be a shock for those newly converted to the Jesus Jones cause by their 'International Bright Young Thing' chart triumph. But this doesn't alter the fact that, above all else, 'Doubt' is a preposterously fine '90s pop LP.
The band's great strength has always been their ability to balance the dash and style of a scrummy teen act with the crucial snot-caked arrogance of prime-time punk. This delicate operation has rarely been better excuted than on the current single (side one, track three), but the opening 'Trust Me' is the closest they've come yet to total thrashing pop anarchy.
An ultra-high pressure guitar barrage festooned with nightmare screams, 'Trust me' makes you glad of the relief provided by the more familiarly buoyant 'Who? Where? Why?', with its magically inserted soaring choral voices.
In its own way, 'I'm Burning' is as big a shock as 'Trust Me'. It's a choked up love song with a structure that has shades of ye olde heavy metal ballad about it, the gentle start building to a chest-beating six-string crescendo. A compelling semi-rockist mutation.
Happily, 'Right Here Right Now' succeeds as an LP track, the horns that seemed so lame in single format providing a welcome contrast to the crunching stance of the surrounding tracks. The actual melody is as poignant as ever, but the band's live reditions still leave this curiously tame version a long way behind.
'Nothing To Hold Me' finds keyboards man Barry D talking over a dubby soundscape with Mike Edwards responding in desolate tones as a lonely guitar twangs in the distance. It almost works, but the masterful ' Real Real Real' follows it with such groovy panache that lesser songs soon fade out of one's consciousness.
The mock-frivolous 'Welcome Back Victoria' has shades of vaudeville divide-and-rule politics under the since vapourised Thatcher regime. It's quickly swallowed up, however, by the massive fire-breathing growl of 'Two And Two', a grinding gem that pivots on a guitar noise that the likes of Steve Albini would kill for.
'Stripped' finds the band, as the title suggests, pared down to a basic pummelling drum attack while Edwards intones over a tribal guitar drone. By comparison, the closing 'Blissed' is a cosily therapeutic sensurround session, all briney submarine bleeps and aquatic womb flashbacks, providing a soothing alterntaive to the Sex Pistols' epic drowning song, 'Sumission'.
'Doubt' probably isn't the classic LP Edwards wants it to be, but compared to its predecessor, 1989's frigid 'Liquidizer', it's a babbling cauldron of fun-streaked rock energy and wonderfully inventive, prickly pop excitement. Now that can't be bad.
Review of Doubt - Smash Hits - 23rd January 1991
The Jones' first LP, "Liquidizer", was a pleasantly thumping headache of noisy guitars and hip-hop beats that didn't score too highly in the singalong stakes. Now, after three hits ("Real Real Real", "Right Here Right Now" and "International Bright Young Thing" - all included here) comes their second LP, and it's an altogether more hummable affair. Songs like "Who? Where? Why?" (The next single) and "I'm Burning" are quite superb pop concoctions, while tracks like "Trust Me" and "Two And Two" are fine thrashy stuff for those among you who wish to lose a few headbanging brain cells. The only time things go a bit awry is on "Stripped" when neither the almighty sample racket or half-baked tune make very much sense.
Nethertheless, "Doubt" just goes to prove that there's more to the Jones than a collection of old baseball caps and a couple of tie-dyed T-Shirts. (8 out of 10)
Review of Doubt - Melody Maker - 26th January 1991
God, what a relief that Proper Hit Single must have been to all concerned
with Jesus Jones. The band were always designed for short, exhilarating
sprints - their reputation, after all, was built on one scorching 45,
"Info Freako", that proved desperately difficult to follow.
They repeated themselves in diminishing echoes; "Real Real Real"
may have gently kissed the chart's nether regions, but actually it didn't
sound very real at all. "International Bright Young Thing",
though...now that's another matter. A pop Jesus that works; a different
smoother sound, attractively strange and hypnotic, coupled with one
of Mike Edwards' cleverer lyrical conceits. At long bloody last somebody
takes a Sixties psychedelic influence and does soemthing fresh with
it, instead of simply trying to re-enact 1968. A deserved success -
and an illustration of the fact that Jesus Jones are at their best when
taking things to one extreme or the other. The sabre-toothed samples
and savagery of "Info Freako", or the dreamy dazzled babble
of "International..." No compromises.
And thankfully, much of "Doubt" suggest that this lesson has been learned. If you thought that Jesus Jones had forgotten how to rampage, then this album's wildest moment - the mighty "Stripped" - will prove otherwise. Edwards' vocal is a rabid, strangled snarl, and behind him are percussion noises that sound so much like bursts of random gunfire and sudden explosions that they're distinctly unnerving in these traumatic times. "Trust Me", the album's first strike, runs "Stripped" a close second on the red-in-tooth-and-claw stakes. Its guitar samples swerve round corners at suicidal speeds.
At the other end of the scale, however, came a couple of songs so reflective and understated that it's hard to believe they've come from that bug-eyed lurching chap with the beret. "Welcome Back Victoria" is just Edwards, a guitar and some ghostly wailing electronics, and it's a subtly effective, menacing piece that broods over the current censorship clampdown. "I'm Burning" is a Jesus Jones love song, a concept that would scarcely have seemed credible a couple of years ago - but it's an attractive reality here. That throaty voice unexpectedly confides "I'm insecure", then roars like a wounded animal. The song doesn't so much burn as smoulder ominously.
Elsewhere - notably on the next single. "Who? Where? Why?" - dance beats and surging guitar sounds are combined in the sort of ways that have become over-familiar lately, That's a shame, because it makes these pioneers of the indie-dance cultural exchange look like bandwagon-jumpers. But "Doubt" as a whole should restore Jesus Jones' repuation as sonic adventurers. If they were truly edging towards the pop mainstream, as those past singles suggested, they'd hardly be offering oddities like this LP's greatest curio, "Nothing To Hold Me" - an unsettling, obsessive thing that recalls both The Fall and Pet Shop Boys. Jesus Jones are still shaking things up and creating intoxicating new sonic mixtures. They're way ahead of their new unbelievable imitators. There's no doubt about that at all.
Review of Doubt - Vox Magazine - January 1991
It is now two years since Jesus Jones' first single 'Info Freako' came screaming, brash and intelligent, over Radio One's immediately converted airwaves. Brave skateboarding dance-rockers with fashion attitude, Jesus Jones could have been '89's EMF if they had arrived on the tail end of a tired and thoroughly anaesthetized trend. However, Jesus Jones preferred to deal in the believable, and have spent the interim period "doing it right". The band have built up a solid, enthusiastic live following, with well-planned support slots leading to capacity shows of their own. They've achieved mounting singles success, appeared on Top Of The Pops, looked pretty on the cover of teen magazines, relased a well-received debut LP and ventured into foreign territories.
In light of this solid - some might say stolid - rise towards prime-grade success, it is puzzling that Jesus Jones should choose the title 'Doubt' for their second album. Nor is this uncertainty reflected in the musical or lyrical content of the record. For the most part written and produced by inexorable front man Mike Edwards, 'Doubt' includes three tracks that will already be familiar: the perfect pop of Real Real Real', the less successful but more substantial 'Right Here, Right Now' and their most recent big hit: 'International Bright Young Thing'. It's a measure of the improvement of 'Doubt' over the band's debut set 'Liquidizer' that the familiarity of three prominent tracks doesn't mean that you have heard the whole record. 'Doubt' bears repeated listening without losing its refreshing, exciting first impact.
From the manic dance thrash of 'Trust Me' through to the Joneses' nod to a northern town, 'Blissed', the album flows merrily along a noisy, tuneful path. Apart for the anti-Tory/Thatcher sentiments of 'Victoria', the lyrics stick to familiar, self-reflective "my place in the scheme of things" territory, without evoking any strong emotional or thought-provoking response. 'Doubt' is not ground-breaking, but it is a young, eminently entertaining record that should take Jesus Jones one step further on their path towards the resurrection and the light.
Review of Doubt - Select Magazine - January 1991
Album of the Month
So far, so good. Jesus Jones have done all the right things - or at least all the right things have happened to them - and of course they did mark their arrival by releasing one of the top three indie singles of 1989.
'Info Freako' was perfect: irresistible groove, fantastic dirty guitars, bratty vocals, hummable tune and stacks of power. Even the cred was there - it only cost them £125 to make.
Jesus Jones should probably have split up there and then, but, young men in pop bands being what they are, they wanted to make a career out of it. So they wisely based their debut LP, 'Liquidizer', around the 'Info Freako' blueprint.
This was all well and good, but it didn't augur well for the future, save for three factors.
First: one track, 'Song 13', was unlike anything else on the record. It was slow, grinding, shockingly heavy, white hot and dripping with desperation. It suggested that there were all sorts of dark, twisted angles to Jesus Jones that were just dying to be discovered.
Secondly: throughout 1990, Jesus Jones proved that here was a hot live act, no doubt about it.
Thirdly: by design or good fortune, nobody has managed to pigeon-hole this band.
'Doubt' shows that Jesus Jones can hover on the perimeters of the white dance explosion, buzz over to the boundaries of the funk-metal crossover and indulge in a bit of cerebal crypto-hippy mind-expansion, and get away with all of it. Nor is this a case of doing several things badly instead of one thing well - what they do they do very well indeed. Which is, principally, to construct a dance beat and a melody and then pile music 'n' sound a mile deep on top of it.
The opening track, 'Trust Me', is closer to the thrashing title track of Living Colour's 'Time's Up', but 'International Bright Young Thing', the first single from the LP, treads more familiar territory, exhibiting Mike Edwards' passionate voice and ear for a snappy lyric. The word 'catchy' was invented for songs like this.
'Burning' is a sign of the band's development, now a little tighter with the bluster and rush but still full blast on atmosphere. 'Right Here Right Now' is laid back but pulsating dance, smooth and polished yet boasting a coarse guitar solo in the middle for good measure.
'Nothing To Hold Me' highlights the only (quibbling) complaint with 'Doubt' - the songs are too short. As soon as you sink into any particular rhythm that's it, too late. It's to Jesus Jones' credit that they seem to want to keep moving.
'Real Real Real', side two's opener and a former single, is the closest the band come nodding towards Happy Mondays' hypno technique, and they pull it off with real style. And with the last three tracks, 'Doubt' becomes something strange, curious and not far from wonderful...
'Two And Two' is three minutes of vicious punk-pop-metal; 'Stripped' is a nightmare soundscape that changes from tortured screaming to a super-funky freak-out; and 'Blissed' is a mega-mellow sonic cloud running on a bubbling synth riff and coated with bird noises, of all things.
Jesus Jones just love noise and aren't afraid to experiment with it.
And 'Doubt' is a free-form pop straight from the melting pot. The New Year's first great surprise, no doubt about it.
Review of Doubt - Source Unknown - circa January 1991
Raucous, brash and brattish - but focused and fiercely intelligent - Mike Edwards amends his skate-core manifesto to tackle young pretenders like EMF and the US charts. Three hit singles demonstrate progress from the sound-and-fury of yore, with Edwards taking a more mellow and introspective path, and allotting elbow room to diverse tangents and classic melodies. Without evoking any strong emotional or thought-provoking response, Jesus Jones nevertheless take one step further down the road towards the resurrection and the light. Plus world domination, of course.
Review of Doubt - Source Unknown - circa January 1991
Doubt is pretty wild, as befits the reputation of singer/writer Mike Edwards, allegedly an eyes-out-on-stalks success fiend. Their dance side is strong and organic but leaves their songs looser and less shaped than those of immediate rivals EMF. They're somehow more dangerous, though, as if that kangaroo left untethered in the top paddock is giving it some very forthright boioioing. The '60s retro style of International Bright Young Thing was the smash but the album ranges from the neo-metal charge and Napalm Death-like vocals of Trust Me to a slow "ambient" mood on Nothing To Hold Me. A long journey is predicted for Jesus Jones, barring ex- or implosions.
The Height of Fame is Attained by Having a Watch Produced Inspired by your Album!
Review of Doubt - The Tech - 1991
Jesus Jones produces uneven but likable Doubt
DOUBT Jesus Jones.
By RICK ROOS
NEWCOMERS JESUS JONES HAVE recently released their second album Doubt, an utterly enjoyable and novel piece of work, but one unfortunately marred by occasional musical and creative lapses. Jesus Jones is another one of the seemingly endless number of groups from Manchester, England, to have invaded the American alternative music circuit. However, their sound is remarkably different from that of neo-psychedelic Manchester bands like The Stone Roses, The Charlatans UK, and Inspiral Carpets. Jesus Jones' music contains an infectious mix of sampling, churning guitars and danceable backbeats. The band cites such diverse musical acts as Sonic Youth, Public Enemy, Jimi Hendrix and Prince among their long list of influences. The result is a musical flavor which is truly unique, drawing only remote comparisons to the "grebo" sound of bands like Pop Will Eat Itself and Renegade Soundwave. The band itself has been around for only a few years. Their first album, Liquidizer, was initially released on the UK's Food Records. Soon afterwards, the band gained such a substantial following that their album was picked up by SBK, a major American label. The band's signing to SBK was significant in that SBK -- a label known for carrying such musical lightweights as Vanilla Ice and Wilson Phillips -- previously had no alternative bands on its roster. Liquidizer's release in the United States was received with almost universal acclaim, but it garnered only marginal airplay and lukewarm sales. At the same time, the tracks "Move Mountains," "Never Enough" and "Info Freako" were slowly becoming club favorites across US dance floors. Prompted by this slight crossover into American markets, and their continued success in Great Britain, Jesus Jones rushed into the studios to record their sophomore effort. The result is an album which took but a week to record: Doubt, an uneven but rather likable piece of music. The disc has 12 of the most diverse cuts ever to be united on one album. The more energetic cuts on the record are clearly the standout ones, featuring the explosive vocals of frontman Jesus H. Jones and the seething guitars of Jones and Jerry De Borg. The lead cut, "Trust Me," is a perfect illustration. The song is reminiscent of the fast and furious, three-chord epics of The Ramones, igniting the listener from the first moment to the last. Another standout track is "Are You Satisfied," with Jones posing the questions "Are you satisfied?/ Do you know what you want, will you go with it when you die?" The song moves rather calmly, then launches into an exciting, ferocious chorus, a typical pattern for many of Jesus Jones' songs. Such tracks as the Beatles-esque "Welcome Back Victoria," the marvelous "Real, Real, Real," and the truly silly "International Bright Young Thing" are also surefire treats to any music lover. The one major drawback of the album is the group's blatant attempt to capitalize on the commercial American market by providing the dreaded "easily accessible" songs on Doubt. The record contains four cuts ranging from forgettable, as in "I'm Burning" and "Blissed," to truly reprehensible, as in "Right Here, Right Now" and "Nothing To Hold Me." The latter song features a slower, more haunting sound with Brian Ferry-like vocals, producing a laughable effect. Even more annoying is the feeble track "Right Here, Right Now." The song is such an obvious stab at widespread airplay that it's almost funny -- that is, until one has actually listen to it repeatedly. The vocals leave an impression on the listener like that of fingernails on a chalkboard. Gone are the grinding guitars and fresh, funky sounds of other cuts, leaving just a monotonous beatbox. "Right Here, Right Now" belongs in a class with the vast majority of drivel currently clogging up radio airwaves. Basically, Doubt is a tremendous effort in the making. If the band had taken the time they had to make their masterpiece, Liquidizer, rather than trying to keep their names in people's minds by rushing out a second album, then they and their fans could have been satisfied. Still, this album is worth picking up. Be sure to buy it on CD in order to avoid the few duds on the disc.
Copyright 1991 by The Tech. All rights reserved. This story was originally published on Friday, March 22, 1991. Volume 111, Number 15 The story was printed on page 9. This article may be freely distributed electronically, provided it is distributed in its entirety and includes this notice, but may not be reprinted without the express written permission of The Tech. Write to email@example.com for additional details.