Tony Bennett, k.d. lang find ‘A Wonderful World’ as duo

Editor’s Note: In Sound Advice, the first Saturday of every month, veteran NEWS entertainment writer Dale McGarrigle, former British music-press writer Adam Corrigan and a revolving stable of NEWS writers review new albums from across the musical spectrum.

“A Wonderful World” (Sony) – Tony Bennett and k.d. lang

To the many fine duos in music, it’s time to add one more: Tony Bennett and k.d. lang. The two fell in love musically a while back and have now consummated their unexpected yet entirely winning vocal compatibility with “A Wonderful World,” an upbeat tribute recording to Louis Armstrong. It’s jazz, it’s smooth, it’s sexy and hip. Bennett does the chatty riff act with standard avuncular smoothness. K.d. plays the part of the chanteuse, dropping deep into her center and then sounding as if she just woke up or – dare we say it? – rolled out of bed wearing a slightly wrinkled peignoir.

The title track is the one exception to all the hummable fun. Bennett and lang twinkle in this song with a silly, Disneylike toothsomeness. Too toothy! Stop smiling! It’s homage, not ham-age. No more violins! The real question is: Why do this song again anyway? Armstrong did it for the ages.

That purged, there’s no denying the absolute charm of this combination. Tony is the sugar to k.d.’s spice and never is that more clear than in the first two songs: “Exactly Like You” and “La Vie En Rose.” (Now there’s a song that you’d think could never be done after Edith Piaf exhaled it but – who’d’a thunk it? – this duo put it to a bossa nova and, voila, it’s tres voluptuous.)

Lang lights the torch for her solo “A Kiss to Build a Dream On” and melts to the core with “That Lucky Old Sun (Just Rolls Around Heaven All Day).” She’s breathy and sexy and just this side of sultry. Bennett suffers only from the predictability of his vocalizations on “That’s My Home” and “You Can’t Lose a Broken Heart.” He’s still a warm songster. He’s still got his chops. But it’s refreshing to hear him all mixed up with a girl like lang. – By Alicia Anstead

“Cry” (Warner Bros.) – Faith Hill

Hill’s last studio album, 1999’s “Breathe,” has sold in excess of 8 million copies and made her a household name as a one-name diva. So how does she follow up a release that left record sellers, well, breathless?

By straying further from her country roots and creating an album built for more crossover success, one with more strings than steel, one that’s at home on almost any radio format.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. As she’s blessed with a dynamite voice and stellar good lucks, why shouldn’t Hill shoot for the stars?

So how does the album hold up? Well, Hill and her producers, Dann Huff and Byron Gallimore, took their time to find the right songs for the album. Everything on “Cry” sounds like a Faith Hill song. That said, the release is also very safe. “Breathe” raised the bar for Hill. At this point in her career, she can certainly takes some risks musically, and there’s none of that here. That could prove a mistake, since fans like to see their favorites grow.

As the pop charts are already showing, “Cry” will be a sales winner for Hill. But it’s not all it could be, which is a shame. Maybe next time she will push the envelope, to show more of what she can do. – By Dale McGarrigle

“Evil Heat” (Epic) – Primal Scream

Usually I’m not fond of the taste of humble pie, but where Primal Scream is concerned, I long ago got used to it being one of my staples. Surely the Pope must by now be considering naming Bobby Gillespie the patron saint of confounded expectations.

Gillespie seems thrilled with this state of affairs as he joyously lobs another musical grenade into our mental bunker and, eyes gleaming, sits back to watch the mess. But most tellingly, he also invites a bunch of old friends around to participate in this year’s carnage. Gillespie must take some pleasure in heading to the studio with Andy Weatherall and Jim Reid once more. Only the biggest feedback fan could now think that Gillespie vacating the Jesus and Mary Chain snare drum was a questionable move. But “Detroit” shows that in middle age, both men still have the minimalist snarl that made the Mary Chain such an impersonal tidal wave.

Yet Weatherall is the real surprise attendee. After the perfect 1991 album “Screamadelica,” a Weatherall-soaked serving of perfection, many – alright, me too – questioned whether it was the cut of Andy the Swordsman that provided the angel dust rather than Bobby’s emaciated stutter. OK, the book has long been closed on that one by the Scream’s last couple of albums. Has Weatherall at the controls been missed? Not overly, although that’s not to downplay his contributions here.

This is the kind of album Primal Scream have become very good at making: an off-center spiral that develops the maps of the last decade while peeking over the horizon at Terra Incognita. They can still do it on their own, they can do it with others, and they’ll probably be doing it for a while to come. Suits me. – Adam Corrigan

“()” (MCA) – Sigur Ros

Just what do they put in the water over there in Iceland? While some still scratch their heads at the pixie princess of weirdo pop, Bjork, now comes the third effort from another strange Icelandic act, one that creates tweaky, squeeky soundscapes and whose vocalist sings in his own ethereal gibberish, “Hopelandish.”

As the cryptic (non) title implies, Sigur Ros and its music are open to interpretation. There is a broad space between those parentheses, which allows listeners to meditate on the waves of sonic goo that is each track – strings, whiny, slow guitars, synths, pitter-pause-patter drums, and the voice, oh! the voice.

According to the band’s press kit, that’s how fans are supposed to experience the music, making up there own interpretations of lyrics and songs and posting them to the band’s Web site.

Thankfully, for those of us lacking the time or will to decipher or interpret, let alone post, the ghostly sounds (and sights) of the band, though somewhat heady and pretentious, don’t completely alienate or befuddle – “Just feel the music, dude.”

To those in the mood for down tempo well done, each song can be a sweet, dreamy cobweb that stretches and pulls but eventually gives way; for others, the band might just sound boring and obtuse, a never ending barrage of ewww’s and trills going nowhere slow.

More directly, Sigur Ros make beautiful aural wallpaper which occasionally creates an atmosphere you want to stay awhile in – unfortunately, sometimes you also want to get up and leave the room. -George Bragdon