Blindside

“About a Burning Fire” (Elektra)

Compare to: Hoobastank, Queens of the Stone Age, Year of the Rabbit

Thank God the members of Blindside chose to label themselves a Christian band. Otherwise, they might have become successful.

Making music outside the secular scene almost never fails to place limits on how big a band can become. Sure, there are exceptions — P.O.D. and MxPx, for example, found a following in mainstream hard rock and punk communities — but the majority of religiously themed acts never make it to household name status.

Making music without intention of fame or fortune is an honorable cause, but Blindside’s reasons for ambiguity and poverty have nothing to do with convictions. Pious or not, “About a Burning Fire” is simply an uninteresting, run-of-the-mill hard rock album. Songs like “Where the Sun Never Dies” and “Across Waters Again” do little to cement this album in the listener’s memory. The singing and musicianship aren’t necessarily that bad — but they aren’t very interesting, either.

Lead singer Marcus Dahlstr”m’s vocals are smooth, but only further showcase the overly positive lyrics that have become so clich‚ in Christian rock, such as “Hope is so much closer to beauty than sorrow/ I think I’ll leave and leave self pity to die.” The songs’ messages themselves seem to have become clouded, as they do in “Swallow:” “You say water is supposed to be brown/ I say there’s garbage in the fountain.”

On one of the disc’s few memorable moments, “Skekina,” which features a soprano intro by a woman singing in the band’s native language of Swedish, is a beautiful escape from the rest of the album’s plain feel. Too bad she couldn’t have stayed around to finish the rest of the album.

Even the title song, the album’s grand finale, falls short of pulling off the overarching emotional themes it attempts. There may be a hint of Glassjaw in the disjointed screaming and crunchy guitars to help the process, but it still falls short of conveying any real feeling.

It may have a few high points, but “About a Burning Fire” simply can’t separate itself from an oversaturated market of Christian hard rock acts already begging for mainstream attention.

— Aaron Ladage

Local H

“Whatever Happened to P.J. Soles?” (Studio E)

Compare to: Everclear, The Foo Fighters

Whatever happened to Local H? After its mega-hit “Bound for the Floor” in the mid-1990s, not much has been heard from the Zion, Ill., “power duo.”

While Local H’s new album, “Whatever Happened to P.J. Soles?” is not likely to put the band back in the spotlight any more than the actress it’s named for, it does provide an entertaining diversion and throwback to the better days of rock music.

The most notable thing about Local H is there are only two members. Scott Lucas provides vocals and plays a guitar with bass pickups added and Brian St. Clair (who replaced original drummer Joe Daniels) plays drums. This two-man setup provides much better results than would be expected for a hard rock band — and the band does indeed rock hard.

“P.J. Soles” does show some range for the pair with the inclusion of slower ballads such as “Mellowed” and “Halcyon Days,” but the band is at its best during the more numerous straight-ahead rock songs.

Of the heavier songs, the most notable are “Heavy Metal Bakesale” for being one of the heaviest true rock songs since vintage Metallica, and the hilarious shout-out to Los Angeles from frustrated Midwesterners, “California Song.” “California Song” is by far the most entertaining song on the album. With a hilarious sing-song chorus like “Here we go again/ It’s never gonna end/ We’re all so sick of California songs/ Yeah we know you love Los Angeles/ There’s nothing left to say/ Please no more California songs/ And fuck New York too,” this is one of the catchiest rock songs of the past few years. Unfortunately, the other songs are not as great. The album does seem to drag at times, specifically during the slower ballads, primarily because Lucas does not have a good voice.

“P.J. Soles” is somewhat uneven, and overall is only a mediocre album. It is definitely worth a listen and provides a reminder that rock music shouldn’t be about Fred Durst “rapping” while a seven-string Ibanez provides the nu-metal background. Sometimes, it’s better to keep it simple — two guys, a guitar and a drum.

— Kyle Sederstrom

Tantric

“After We Go” (Maverick)

Compare to: Lo-Pro, Dust For Life, Soundgarden

The worst decision Travis Meeks ever made was to fire guitarist Todd Whitener, bassist Jesse Vest and drummer Matt Taul from Days Of The New.

After a strong debut album on which Tantric scored hits with “Breakdown,” “Astounded” and “Mourning,” the band is finally back and stronger than ever.

Whitener and Vest have matured as songwriters and musicians. The guitar and bass parts are delightfully complex, yet they fit well with every thing else.

Matt Taul still lays down those classic 32nd-note hi-hat patterns, and it’s obvious he is key to the Tantric’s rhythmically solid rock sound.

The whole album seems much harder than the debut. The album’s first single, “Hey Now,” is classic Tantric in every way. It gives off a vibe similar to “Astounded” from the band’s debut during the first minute and a half, right before Whitener lays down a metal riff similar to something found on a Disturbed album.

Tantric is also perhaps the only band of late that has not butchered a good song by giving it a lame cover treatment.

The band plays a version of Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chain,” which is almost as beautiful as the original song.

A few new features, such as metallic guitar riffs, were added to the song as part of a small bridge in the middle, and Hugo Ferreira’s deep, scratchy voice adds an overpowering manliness to the entire arrangement.

Like the debut, “After We Go” features acoustic guitar as a major part of nearly every track. This whittled-down sound tends to be the most dominant, with electric guitars and distortion dubbed in the background, giving the songs a more intimate feel.

The album contains 12 well-crafted compositions, all of which can be good for listening in pretty much any setting. This is a definitely a record anyone can enjoy listening through without skipping a single track.

— Dan Hopper

Zero 7

“When It Falls” (Elektra)

Compare to: Massive Attack, Thievery Corporation, Air

Staying in has become the new going out for tired listeners who’ve been turned on to the world of chill-out music. Soaring among the highest of this finely bred species of electronica producers is Zero 7.

If the name appears to hide some secrets, those are given away by the title of the first track, “Warm Sounds” — on the group’s second album, “When It Falls.” If words like “electronica” or “ambient” trigger images of glowstick-sporting ravers dancing to bad techno, fear not. Zero 7 is the antithesis of all things jittery and flashing.

Warm and cool air swirling together is the sort of head trip one is in for when listening to “When It Falls.” This is saline for the soul. Funky, yet feathery keyboards and synths create earth tones for the ears.

Buttery vocals alternate and complement the soulfully synthesized instrumentation song after song. The richest of these voices are those of Mozez and Sia Furler, but Sophie Barker and Tina Tico are not far behind. Furler sounds like a matured Nelly Furtado as she carries the single “Somersault.” Unfortunately, she’s not heard from again on the album, save a few notes on “Speed Dial No. 2.”

Only on this distinctly different track do the producers deviate from their velvet-soft downtempo beats. Catchy guitars speed the rhythm up a few notches, and are offset by surprisingly appropriate harmonica parts. If it were not for this “speed dial,” it might seem as though Zero 7 was a one-trick pony.

As far as negatives go, this offering is less vibrant than the group’s 2001 release, “Simple Things,” especially in terms of lyrics. With most chill-out, the words being sung, if any, are completely passive and secondary — only there for the smooth sounds. However, the simple, yet profound words on Zero 7’s first album lifted the album to a higher dimension. This is not the case on the slightly watered-down “When It Falls.”

The classiness of “Simple Things” would have been impossible to surpass, so a near equal in its sophomore effort is more than satisfactory. What we have in the end is a sedative for hyperactives and a soundtrack for a lazy Sunday afternoon.

— Andrew Mabe