George Carlin

Complaints and Grievances

WEA/Atlantic

George Carlin is an insult comic. Forget Jerry Seinfeld’s observational humor: Did you ever notice that they call it Ovaltine when the jar is round? Carlin doesn’t care. Like Leary and Miller, Carlin makes a buck lashing out at all the stupid people in the world. Unfortunately, in his aptly-named latest album, Complaints and Grievances, he steps a little off course.

Sept. 11 is partly to blame. As Carlin himself points out, you have to discuss the issues behind the tragedy, “Otherwise, the terrorists win!” Carlin does turn the situation to his advantage initially, taking a bite out of the U.S. government and big business (“Go out and buy some jewelry and a new car, otherwise the terrorists win.”) Afterwards, however, the Sept. 11 material degenerates into a series of fart jokes. Apparently Carlin feels that football fans fart so much they should qualify as biological weapons. It’s a little embarrassing.

The CD then moves from fart jokes to picking scabs. And some of this stuff works. As they say, he’s only vocalizing what we’re all thinking. Who doesn’t relate to the experience of picking toenails? But the whole thing smacks of a childish attempt to gross you out. The bit on lip crud was less than inspired.

Finally, Carlin comes home. Halfway through the CD, the complaints and grievances begin. It’s beautiful. Carlin goes off on the Religious Right, the N.R.A., genital mutilation, domestic violence and the consumer culture. He hates guys with stupid “sissy” names like Blake and Blair and Blaine and Brent. He hates environmentally conscious yuppies that separate their garbage and listen to Steely Dan. It’s all unprintable filth; my virgin ears are bleeding. Finally, George Carlin is an insult comic again.

—Benjamin D. Margo

No Doubt

Rock Steady

Interscope

Popular wisdom has it that Gwen Stefani’s painful breakup with fellow No Doubter Tony Kanal was the ultimate cause of No Doubt’s rise to stardom. Previous albums Tragic Kingdom and Return of Saturn were propelled by angsty tracks like “Don’t Speak,” “Ex Girlfriend” and “Simple Kind of Life,” inspired by Stefani’s heartache. But with steady beau Gavin Rossdale and a chummy relationship with Kanal, Stefani seems to be doing just fine. And if pain creates great art, what does the artist do when the wounds heal? No Doubt’s answer: you split for Jamaica.

The December release Rock Steady, showcases a band on vacation from taking themselves seriously. No Doubt recorded several tracks in Jamaica and the UK with various teams of producers, each of which lent their own sound to the genre-shifting album. The album’s first single, “Hey Baby,” a potential disappointment but for its zany music video, is the least of Rock Steady’s seductive tracks. Now that Stefani has gained respectability in the techno and hip-hop communities for appearing on tracks for Moby and Eve, No Doubt can attract producers such as William Orbit for a techno sound, Nellee Hooper for hip-hop, and Ric Ocasek for a trip back to the eighties.

“Don’t Let Me Down” deserves to be the biggest hit of the album, with its Ocasek-influenced driving synth and drum rhythms. For once Stefani will shine singing about requited love. “Making Out” has a low, thumping rhythm and a symphony of synth sounds that gets the heart pumping faster. No Doubt even collaborated with Prince. “Waiting Room,” to which Prince lends vocal, production, and writing talent, sounds like Gwen Stefani just sang along with an old Prince tune. The syrupy sexual lyrics are a welcome change from Stefani’s usual pining (“Whatever you did has got me glued / It’s icky, it’s sticky ooh”).

Rock Steady will give No Doubt the kind of crossover respectability Stefani has been enjoying. And where Return of Saturn got dreary in places, Rock Steady’s frivolity can only help.

—Benjamin D. Margo