Woodstock 99 - Various (Hybrid/Epic) A double CD of an often excruciating two hours-plus, this should come with a parental-guidance warning . . . as much for the poor-quality music as the assortment of expletives and obscenities.
Featuring a creatively limited if chronic range of tedious noise from the mediocre likes of Korn, Limp Bizkit, Sevendust, Godsmack and Megadeth, it is the risible offspring of the July festival which marked the 30th anniversary of the original event - and to which it bore precisely no relation.
It may not have been perfect, but the 1969 gathering - the love generation's finest day - changed attitudes to popular music, not least because the artists featured were world-beaters: The Who, Jimi Hendrix, Santana, The Band and more. If Woodstock 99 features the best of the current crop, music standards have declined frighteningly. No wonder this year's festival ended in arson and rioting. So much for love and peace, man.
The second disc is a big improvement on the first, throwing classy performers like Elvis Costello and Alanis Morissette into the fray. Unexpected highlights come from the Dave Matthews Band and the Brian ('Stray Cats') Setzer Orchestra. But this release is purely a commercial opportunity: the CD of the event, to go with your T-shirt and corporate-logo beanie hat. If you weren't there, don't bother. If you were there, don't bother either.
- Stephen McCarty The All Seeing I - Pickled Eggs And Sherbet (Earth) Their main mover goes by the name of D J Parrot. Their first hit scrambled up a Cher vocal on a Sonny Bono song. They had an ageing crooner singing about being a showbiz has-been, and then a showbiz has-been singing about thwarted ambition - and in between them lies a four-on-the-floor disco stomper.
But to discount Pickled Eggs And Sherbet as another novelty record would be missing the point.
On the surface, Pickled Eggs And Sherbet is a brilliant pop record - there is the chugging swagger of Walk Like A Panther and the dumbed-down disco of Sweet Music. What makes the record tick, however, is the lyrics by Jarvis Cocker, the sharp-eyed social commentator from Pulp.