The Michigan Daily - Wednesday, Apnl 5, 1995 - 11 RECORDS 4ontinued from page 10 killers: The gentle title song and the frightening "Black-Eyed Dog." There is not a track on this compi- lation that is not the work of a genius, even if a troubled genius. His other four albums are just as strong, a re- minder of just how great a musical contributor we lost when he died of a drug overdose at 26. -- Dirk Schulze Adina Howard Do You Want a Ride? EastWest Records Twenty-year old Grand Rapids, Michigan native Adina Howard has a formula for success that is as simple as they get. Sex sells, and she uses that fact to its fullest. Blessed with an Wmply sized gluteal area, Howard is not afraid to show it off to its fullest. Just skim her song titles; names like "Let's Go To Da Sugar Shack," "My Up and Down" and "You Got Me Humpin"' more than hint at the fact that this is no wholesome family re- lease. Or, view her CD cover where her backside is spread like a model on a 2 Live Crew video, or look at the *nside cover where she stuffs herself into a pair of black leather pants so tight they looked-tattooed on. Is it really such a shocker that guys would be attracted to her ... ah, mu- single "Freak Like Me," which does more to show off her piss-po' vocal skillz than the most sarcastic music reviewer ever could, is so popular? However blessed Howard may be below, she is nowhere near gifted in the vocs department. But, this "short- coming" doesn't stop her from releas- ing the booty (no pun intended), 13- cut "Do You Want a Ride?" But, her popularity will in 'no way be perma- nent. Howard has neither talent nor the drive necessary to make it in the music biz. She is out for one thing: To make a quick buck selling her body along with her heinously wack voice like a street walker in Las Vegas - exactly what she looks like on the cover of her CD. Howard calls herself "a '90s woman." No, Adina, you're not a woman. You are ajoke and a smack in the face of every hard-working, up- and-coming, true-to-herself female artist out to make it legitimately: Us- ing their voices, not their bodies, rely- ing on their lyrical talents, not on their oversized body parts squeezed into undersized clothes. - Eugene Bowen Ike Turner I Like Ike! - The Best of Ike Turner Rhino Forget, for a moment, the vicious portrait that "What's Love Got to Do With It" ainted - before anything else, Ike Turner was a musician, and a ground-breaking one at that. Not only was he a revolutionary R&B guitarist and pianist, he was a con- summate songwriter and a visionary producer, label owner and talent scout. During the '50s, he laid the ground work forrock'n' roll with the various bands he led. In fact, most critics call "Rocket 88" -- a powerhouse blues number fueled by a distorted guitar - the first rock 'n' roll record. Al- though Turner's name didn't appear on the record (it was credited to singer Jackie Breston), it was his band and his arrangement. The song was ahuge R&B smash and Turner spent much of his career trying to top its success. Of course, once he turned Anna Mae Bullock into Tina Turner, Ike did score a number of hits - and his early work was forgotten by much of the public. "I Like Ike - The Best of Ike Turner" returns that early work to pub- lic consciousness. Surprisingly, there hasn't been a domestic collection of this material in years, while Ike and Tina's catalog has been repackaged many times. Most of the songs on "I Like Ike" aren't as strong as "Rocket 88," yet the sound of Turner's band is so muscular and rocking, attempts to du- plicate the single's success ("My Real Gone Rocket") are easily forgivable. From the ripping "Peg Leg Woman" to the dirty country of "Steel Guitar Rag," the disc is filled with gems that confirm Ike Turner's stature as a true R&B giant - Tom Erlewine Nod's Atomic Dustbin Brainbloodvolume WORK Group The new release by those energetic young British lads, Ned's Atomic Dustbin, is ... well, different. Ned's- who released two extremely good, al- though similar-sounding, albums fea- turing their unique two-bass sound and pop hooks - have seemingly taken a sharp turn not only in instrumentation, but songwriting. The disc opens with the ear-shat- tering single "All I Ask Of Myself Is That I Hold Together," a tune that rips and tears with the best of them, but lacks any sort of the aforementioned style. The track is a sign of the changes in the band, but don't worry, it is also easily the worst song on the album. Ned's new style includes a solid gui- tar sound, more samples, effects and sequencing and a near-disappearance of the melodic second bass that was the band's trademark. Bassist Alex has abandoned his four-string on many of the tracks in favor of keyboards and even (gasp!) a second guitar. But, the disc gets better and better from the second song on. "Floote," a Ned's Atomic Dustbin has given up the ghost and gone ... quasi-technol Well, you know somebody had to do it. nice little tune that includes a really cool flute ditty mixed in underneath the power chord crunch, takes the album off in search of bigger and better things. Though the thought of a techno song on a Ned's Atomic Dustbin album would scare even the most devoted of fans "Premonition" is quite pleasing, mainly due to the beautiful acoustic guitar laid over the synth drums and oozing bass line. And how wonderfully oozing the bass lines are! While Alex may be off in la-la land with his keyboards and sequencers, low-end bassist Mat has been busy tightening his driving sound. The conventional bass lines here are better than ever, especially on the higher-tech tracks like "Bore- hole" and "Traffic." Another key element to the album is the unwaver- ing lyrical prowess of vocalist John. His biting wit and youthful expres- sion once again combine to make his average-British-rock-singer voice sound a lot more powerful than it is. Whilethenew style might take long- time fans a while to get used to and the first single may sound a bit trendy, "Brainbloodvolume" takes Ned's Atomic Dustbin in adirection that might not be so bad. The loss of the bass harmonies is too bad, but there are also many positive changes here to focus on. The important thing is that, for the most part, Ned's Atomic Dustbin is still do- ing what they do best: Writing interest- ing and enjoyable pop songs. - Mark Carlson Gastr Del Sol Mirror Repair EP Drag City On "Mirror Repair," Gastr Del Sol proves that their twisted brilliance extends even further than their in- credible second LP, "Crookt, Crackt or Fly," had suggested. The five songs here cover the entire spectrum of Gastr Del Sol's method of song deconstruction, utilizing acoustic and electric guitars as well as pianos and drums, all executed in the band's frighteningly unique style of mixing both melodic and anti-melodic ele- ments with random and controlled noise, usually on the same instru- ment. Every track on "Mirror Repair" works brilliantly within this frame- work, but certain songs show Gastr Del Sol's expansion better than oth- ers. "Eight Corners" showcases David Grubbs' talent for chaining together dissonant piano chords into a beauti- fully coherent form, and "Mirror Re- pair" combines the piano and acous- tic guitar textures and melodies per- fectly, with neither one taking full control over the other. "Dictionary of Handwriting," on the other hand, starts with a warped, false-starting electric guitar riff be- fore roaring off into a twisted form of indie-rock ecstasy, augmented by percussionist John McEntire's ex- plosive drum rolls. Grubbs' shy but engaging lyrical style is also present on a few of the tracks, but he also knows when to let the music speak for itself. With "Mirror Repair," Gastr Del Sol prove that they are neither indie- rock heroes or self-indulgent experi- mentalists or even technical wizards. Instead, they've proven that theirstyle of music has no limits, and that they have the skill to expand their already compelling sound to even greater heights. --Andy Dolan Sincola What the Nothinghead Said Caroline This two-guy, two-girl group has been pegged to be The Next Big Thing, but frankly, it's doubtful that will happen. There's nothing much to this group's sound that's worth remark- ing on; a few flat female vocals here, some awkward, wiry melodies there. From thealbum'sopening track, "Hint of the Titty" (I'm not making this up) to its closer, the ironically titled "Amazing," "What the Nothinghead Said" serves up lukewarm punk-pop and plenty of it. Like so many other .music genres, indie punk-pop has become inbred. So much of it differs so little from band to band; jangly and/or fuzzy guitars and flat vocals are at an all-time high. And like too many of their indie brethren, Sincola are a bunch of nothingheads with little to say. - Heather Phares It's One Of The Most Useful Credit Cards On The Planet. Unless You've Stolen It. Your MasterCardis stolen. You panic.You get angry.You panic some more. Then you call and cancel it. Now the thief is in p )ssession of, oh, a coas / to p bout seven cents worth of stolen plastic. (Maybe he can use it as a ter when he entertains at the hideout.) So relax. You only have gay for stuff that you bought, and you can even get a new card rhP next lav*' It'll he accented at millions of locations, one of