(Parlophone)
When you want to give someone a taste for Brit pop who might otherwise have an aversion to music from across the pond, it's good to loan him or her a Supergrass album. Supergrass is not exploring the darker side of music's futuristic frontier like Radiohead, nor does it wear an oh-so-earnest heart on its collective sleeve like Coldplay or Travis. On Supergrass' fourth album, Life on Other Planets, the band sticks to a rather successful--if not groundbreaking--formula, which consists of roughly two parts rollicking rock and one part sweetly poignant pop. On \Seen the Light,"" lead singer Gaz Coombes tells it how it is (with a bit of an Elvis snarl): ""Well you can try to understand/ I'm a rock 'n' roll singer in a rock 'n' roll band.""
In other words, Supergrass makes the ""n??-rock"" bands appear not so ingenious, simply because they have been consistently producing their brand of mildly raucous yet thoughtful music since the 1995 debut I Should Coco. To wax critical for a moment, the band's shortcoming is a lack of evolution, if anything. But enough waxing--what about the songs on Life?
For the album, the band notes it drew inspiration from a '70s Prophet 15 synthesizer, which lends a bit of an intergalactic feel to temper the more punk tendencies. Life commences with ""Za""--a groovy organ prelude, a little piano and then pure fun and that rather endearing lyrical tawdriness: ""Waste, such a terrible waste/ 'Cos time waits for no one/ So why don't we get it on, get it on."" ""Za"" does not quite measure up to the downright intriguing ""Movin'"" from the previous album Supergrass (a.k.a. the ""The X-ray Album"") but is no doubt a promising start.
Other highlights include ""Brecon Beacons,"" a rather odd but swingin' ode to a girl with supernatural affiliations who meets her fate at the hands of a cop. No matter; it's easy to dig almost any song with handclaps. Segueing to the sweetly poignant--because Supergrass is of the Brit pop school, after all--""Evening of the Day"" is a charmingly crooned lament about a girl and a missed connection: ""(If) she's not on that three-fifteen/ Then I'm gonna know what sorrow means."" Another standout is the lickety-split ""Grace,"" which invokes a little of that astral synth sound against a pounding backdrop of piano, guitar and drums.
It might not be obvious, but Supergrass has a genuine aptitude for referencing some of life's touchstones: wistful childhood nights in the backyard, wanting one more drink and the work of Marvin Gaye and Oscar Wilde. With a plethora of la-las, synthesizer tinges and plenty o'guitars, Supergrass once again delivers an album you can put on when you have a living room full of people without worrying about strong objections. If anything, this album pretty much sounds like the others--which isn't a bad thing, but is a tad disappointing when considering the band's glimmers of brilliance, like the absolutely infectious and liberating ""Pumpin' on Your Stereo"" from X-ray.
