Submodalities (EMI)
On one level The Moffatts are a disappointment: listening to Submodalities, you start out expecting Oasis; what you get, sometimes, is Toploader. On another, they're a marvel. Having begun as a country family band so cheesy-looking they could have been carved from lumps of cheddar, they have turned their backs on Nashville (which triplets Clint, Bob and Dave and elder brother Scott took on at the ages of eight and nine respectively - yes, really) and reinvented themselves twice in the space of two albums.
Their previous effort, Chapter 1: A New Beginning, was a floppy disc of limp pop, but on this record it's all different again. They manage to sound like Sweet revisiting Blockbuster, Doctor And The Medics when they go slightly gothic, Hootie and the Blowfish when they try to be all AOR, Radiohead when they attempt some (impressive) progressive rock and experimentation, and REM when they feel suddenly dark and edgy.
Bar a couple of Toploader-esque misfires in the album's 63 minutes, the only thing that can be afflicting the newly grunged Moffatts now is an identity crisis. But they seem able to turn their hands to whatever they like, so more power to their juvenile (16- and 17-year-old) elbows.