SUPERGRASS
Life On Other Planets
(Island)
It's a popular theme with music critics and Anglophiles that the disparity betwixt the popularity of a British band at home and in the United States is way too uneven. For non-believers, though, it hardly seems worth the bother; who cares whether or not Boyzone (an Irish version of N'Sync or the Backstreet Boys) or the Stereophonics (a popular U.K. neo-classic rock trio) make noise over here for anyone other than a cult audience? In the year 2003, it's apparently difficult to remember that nearly 40 years ago a British wave of rock & roll pretty much revolutionized music. In the 60s the Beatles, the Who, the Rolling Stones, the Kinks and the Zombies took a distinctly American music that lay dormant on its own shores and rewrote the rule book, revitalizing the style and pretty much taking over the charts. (OK, the Kinks and the Zombies weren't exactly ubiquitous presences on the American charts, but when they hit, as with "You Really Got Me" and "Time of the Season" respectively, they hit big. Besides, both bands have proven as influential as their more popular cousins.) By the 70s, Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin had invented heavy metal and conquered FM radio and the album charts, and U.K.-based arena rock bands like Deep Purple, Foghat, Thin Lizzy and Humble Pie were sharing headlining status with their American cohorts. And let's not forget Van Morrison's consistent popularity and David Bowie's reign as the king of eclectic rock throughout the 70s and into the 80s.

But somewhere along the line things changed. For some still-unexplained reason, U.K. rock fell off the American charts. Throughout the 80s and 90s it was more common to see hit singles from Swedish acts like Ace of Base and Roxette in the Billboard listings than something by an English artist. Sure, there was the odd run here and there by folks like Peter Gabriel and Oasis, and of course U2 became one of the biggest bands in the world, but overall the folks in Mother England and its environs couldn't get a toehold in the States. The rise (if that's even the right term) of the rock underground kept interest in artists like Echo & the Bunnymen, the Catherine Wheel, Robyn Hitchcock, XTC, Blur and many, many other quality bands alive in the colonies, ensuring the regular release of their records on these shores in a form other than pricey imports. But few of them ever scored the success here that they enjoyed at home. Even virtual superstars in the U.K. like Paul Weller and the Manic Street Preachers have never broken out of cult status in the U.S. What's the deal with that?

So what does this have to do with Supergrass? Simply that the Oxford trio has consistently recorded some of the best music to ever come out of Great Britain and still sees its records released in the States several months after their debuts on the island. Supergrass seems to have everything it needs for massive Stateside success: great melodies, blatant hooks, a variety of classy influences (the usual British sources, psychedelia, bubblegum pop), songs that don't insult your intelligence and a sense of humor. The band has an abnormally strong back catalog, including its 1995 debut I Should Coco (which isn't brilliant but is at least as good a punk/pop record as anything Green Day has ever done), its amazing 1997 opus In It For the Money and its startlingly diverse self-titled pop symphony from 1999. But none of these record ever caused more than a ripple in the large pool that is the American pop charts, despite finding sizable success at home. Despite the quality music, despite the band's potential to be the most creative British rock band since the Beatles, Supergrass is still known to only a relative few in the States.

Perhaps, with the release of its latest slab, that will change. Life On Other Planets (AKA LOOP) is the band's out-and-out catchiest songfest yet. It's also the most stripped-down record the group has made since its debut, despite the addition of a full-time keyboardist to the lineup; the combo sounds more like four musicians playing together in a room somewhere than any record it's ever made. Keysman Rob Coombes (older brother of 'Grass leader Gaz Coombes) plays a prominent role in the arrangements, yet never clutters anything up; the focus remains on Gaz' cheeky vocals and tuneful guitar work, Danny Goffey and Mickey Quinn's versatile, peppy rhythms and the band's sparkling harmonies. This is a band that knows how to arrange, understanding exactly how to balance the elements it brings to a song so that nothing goes unnoticed and everything works together for the sake of the tune. Few bands on any continent sound as democratic as Supergrass.

LOOP also reveals a musical influence that has always been there but been previously gone unnoticed: glam. The album radiates the kind of cocky self-confidence, bopping rhythms, attention to surface details and, especially, knock-ya-on-th'-head hooks that mark the best glam; the specter of T. Rex haunts this record like a glitter rock ghost. "See the Light" is a perfect example; the la-la-la's and handclaps in the background, the lyrics about being "a rock & roll singer in a rock & roll band," the guitar solo that would sound like roots rock if not for the gnarly fuzztone, and frontman Gaz Coombes' seamless blend of Elvis Presley braggadocio and British pout indicate a lot of time spinning Sweet, Bowie and Bolan on the stereo at some formative period in the bandmembers' lives. The music hall swing of "Evening of the Day" and the rootsy groove of the impossibly catchy "Grace" (a tribute to the daughter of Squeeze principal Chris Difford, in whose Sussex studio much of the album was recorded) also point to roots in the silver makeup rock in Great Britain's past, though it's important to note that none of these tunes sound like 70s glam tracks so much as they indicate an interest in them.

But the band wouldn't be Supergrass if it picked a rut and stuck to it, and there's much more to LOOP than mere glitter rock pastiches. "Never Done Nothing Like That Before" throws enough distortion to shred a subwoofer onto a sugared-up pop tune, while "La Song" moves from punk to pop with aplomb; both cuts suggest the Buzzcocks in their prime. "Funniest Thing" and "Za" work the band's previous lushness into the kind of loud/soft dynamics that sent a dozen grungers up the charts in the early 90s. "Run" and "Prophet 15" (which nods its head to Paul McCartney's "Let 'em In") bring psychedelia into the mix without every becoming trippy and clichéd. "Brecon Beacons" and "Rush Hour Soul" are simply sterling pop tunes, unbeholden to a particular style. The quartet wields a stunning arsenal of hooks and a gleaming sword of pure craft throughout the record with agility and precision. But Supergrass never loses its sense of humor or fun, no matter how carefully arranged a track may be. This is a band that obviously gets a great deal of enjoyment out of its own music, and the infectious delight with which the boys apparently recorded these dozen tunes comes through to the audience as well. The music found here is practically the definition of pure entertainment.

Life On Other Planets is the kind of album that used to have wide appeal, spending as much time blasting out of car radios as music journalist disk players. These days any chance of it finding the wide audience it deserves is a dodgy proposition. More's the pity; it's exactly the kind of genius pop record that could give the moribund mainstream American music business a smart kick in the tuchis. Don't let this wonderful album slip into the same music geek obscurity as so many other great British records before it; find it, buy it, cleave it to your breast and let it soothe your soul like the greats of yesteryear. On the strength of this and its other records, Supergrass deserves to rule the universe. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: T. Rex, Paul McCartney, early early Oasis