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Nick Gentle

Courtney Love

America's Sweetheart

(Virgin)

There is a website full of obscure things to say in French, one of which is: 'Waiter, I think this wine has been drunk before' - and it is this line that springs to mind as you listen to America's Sweetheart.

It's not that it is disappointing.  So low are the expectations we place on Courtney Love these days that unwary ants have been known to trip over them. But, generally, when someone puts out a 'new' album, you expect to hear something new, or at least a little bit different.

Well, Love has let the side down in both respects. There is simply nothing new here; apart from the bleating request from the record company for people not to copy the CD (little chance of that).

Love sees herself as a grunge queen and she's got the style down pat: slow, fast, slow, fast, a few cascading chords, distortion, sustain. If it weren't for the fact that every riff sounds ripped from Nirvana, Soundgarden or Jane's Addiction, the music would be passable. And if they'd played with the levels a bit, they may even have been able to at least muffle Love's 'singing' a bit. Imagine a crow with a sore throat that's had its beak glued together trying to hit high C and you might get the jist.

You'd think that having co-produced the album, Love might have done herself a few favours, but no matter how much it might have helped a ditty like Life Despite God, where her attempts at mimicking Robert Plant go down like, well, a lead balloon, she has resisted.

And does anyone seriously want to hear about how miserable her life is?

Does anyone care?

There are a few redeeming tracks, but you have to wade through a musical slaughterhouse to get to them. And once you do, you realise you've heard it all before and it tasted much better the first time.



Courtney Love