C'Mon Kids
The Boo Radleys shoulda been contenders. Of all the bands on England's legendary Creation Records roster devoted to reinterpreting the psychedelic '60s in the '90s, Martin Carr and company had the goods. More forward-looking than Ride, more danceable than Primal Scream, nearly as challenging and creative as My Bloody Valentine but as pop-oriented as Oasis, the Boos had something for everyone. But while Oasis grabbed the brass ring in the U.S. with Definitely Maybe, Wake Up!-the Boos' jaunty, horn-driven fourth effort and a much better album-mostly fell on deaf ears. It may have all worked out for the best, since the Boos switched labels in the States, regrouped at Rockfield Studios in Wales, and produced their most ambitious, least commercial, and most inspired album yet. C'Mon Kids is a spirited invitation to join in a truly modern vision of psychedelic rock, recognizing that a geeky Englishman like Sice can rap his heart out on a tune like "Fortunate Sons" while Valentines-style chaotic guitars can be effectively paired with hip-hop rhythms on "What's In the Box" or "Get On the Bus." That's bus as in the indie-rock tour van, not Ken Kesey's, but to the Boos, there's not much difference. Their take on the psychedelic wall of sound is grungier and more gleeful than anyone besides the fabulous Flaming Lips. Acoustic guitars butt up against orchestras of fuzz guitar; theremins swoop and synthesizers swirl; demonic voices whisper in your ear, and your mind is blown but you find yourself cheerfully humming along.Jim Derogatis