Tribute albums are the third-string, pinch-hitter, red-headed stepchild of the music business. What with the recent deluge of tribute albums, it would appear as if the music business were in trouble. Sometimes it definitely seems so.

Some of the scrubs out there are the John Lennon tribute (Candlebox!? What were they thinking!?), the Tom Waits tribute (a very premature move; not that many people know who he is) and of course, the Kiss and Jimi Hendrix ones released awhile back. What was surprising was that it took this long for a Marvin Gaye tribute album to come to pass.

The Inner City Blues, a tribute album to Gaye, was released in conjunction with an MTV program. That immediately caused a fit of inner turmoil. After listening to the album, I had to ask, “Was this a good thing that I did?” There was that feeling of nameless guilt making a snack out of the central portion of the brain.

There are people one doesn’t really expect to see on the album. Actually, just one. The Madonna/Massive Attack version of “I Want You” is a trick play. Others like Neneh Cherry, Stevie Wonder and Nona Gaye seem like more natural choices. Bono isn’t much of a stretch once you think about it, and Sounds of Blackness is practically a given.

The problem with this album is the same that befalls most tribute albums: remakes. With a couple of exceptions, the songs on Inner City Blues seem like moves to update Gaye while paying homage. The Gaye and Cherry tracks are straight. The Digable Planets successfully weave the aura of a smoky jazz hole, but take their original “Marvin, You’re the Man” beyond a sensible stopping point.

It may have worked better for Motown to center on Gaye’s music more than the artists paying homage to it. This is where the latest Hendrix tribute, In From the Storm, excels beyond other tribute albums. The main driver behind this album is former Hendrix producer Eddie Kramer.

Kramer’s involvement has the overwhelming advantage of his having personally known and worked with Hendrix. The project (and it is a project!) draws from Kramer’s discovery that Hendrix drew inspiration from some classical music and one day hoped to write and perform works that incorporated an orchestra. With that in mind, Kramer enlisted the aid of Mitch Mitchell, Noel Redding and Billy Cox. He also employed the London Metropolitan Orchestra conducted by cinematic score writer Michael Kamen.

The additional corps of musicians was another story. To represent Hendrix’s influence and influences, Kramer drew from jazz, blues and rock. Among the impressive list of studio musicians are Taj Mahal, Carlos Santana, Stanley Jordan, Toots Thielemans, Steve Vai and Bootsy Collins. The resulting album is a reflective expansion of Hendrix’s music instead of a reworking.

“Purple Haze” is the only marginal track on the album and features a slight funkification, courtesy of Bootsy Collins and Bernie Worrell, with Buddy Miles on vocals. Miles also sings on “Have You Ever Been (To Electric Ladyland),” which is near the beginning of a final product that sweats and bleeds Jimi Hendrix.

The arrangements are what stands out on the album. Even guitarists like Vai and Brian May solo without overshadowing the body and mood. Miles, Corey Glover (yes!) and Sass Jordan add their molten soul to Hendrix’s lyrics. King’s X’s Doug Pinnick eerily succumbs to and channels Hendrix on “Burning of the Midnight Lamp.”

In From The Storm may take some getting used to for some Hendrix fans, but it has a humbly impressive (or impressively humble) way of calling attention to itself. It is effective and much better than the showboat who winds up with no money and a pink slip for all his flamboyance.

Returning to the sour side, the Mallrats soundtrack is the typical 90s soundtrack. It is barely passable and meant for people who think Top-40 is the way to go for radio play concepts. You get tracks by Belly, Weezer, Elastica and Bush, among others. Add a little Silverchair at the end, and there’s a bad wind blowing.

The positives about the soundtrack come courtesy of excerpts from the movie. It’s definitely an album made with the skip button on the CD player in mind. Well, find enjoyment wherever you can, I guess. Right now, mine lies within a dish of leftover stuffing with gravy and giblets.