William Orbit.  Pieces in a Modern Style.  Maverick 

Young LG from my office, loaned me the latest William Orbit CD.  Orbit, as all music hounds know, produced Madonna's Ray of Light and received plenty of plaudits for this Grammy winning, shelf shifter.  Orbit under his own "name" has recorded several ambient, dance groove numbers. 

He now takes the piss big time, with a collection of classical "greats" ground down on bank of syrupy keyboards into New Age stylings.  Orbit shows no sensitivity to the originals as he reduces them to clichés (pastiches is too good a word).  I won't embarrass the (dead) composers by mentioning the tracks "covered".  In fact, why am I writing this review?  Don't buy this record.  It's grand larceny.  This man should be put away.  Now. 

A further warning, record buyer. 

The Smashing Pumpkins.  MACHINA/ the machines of God (Who, he? - Ed).  Virgin Records  

The Smashing Pumpkins, one of the four horsemen of the Grunge Apocalypse, have foisted upon the unsuspecting public a new CD over 70 minutes in length with few redeeming features.  Take of the cellophane wrapping, open up the jewel case and immediately you will recognize MACHINA for the pretentious garbage that it is.  The booklet to go with the CD barely fits in the jewel case. 

Right: I am hereby declaring war on the jewel case.  I hate it.  Nine times out of ten the jewel is broken.  It allows for too little space to fit in the liner notes and you have to fight to get them back in.  Bring on digipacks! 

Meanwhile, Billy Corgan whines away while you struggle to get to the "art packaging".  It's the most pretentious sludge you'll see in a long time.  (Come back Roger Dean, all is forgiven - well, some of it.)  Fake antique, quasi-biblical illustrations clutter the booklet.  The lyrics are pretty much unreadable. 

Corgan winds up for a truck load of sludge to pour out of your speakers.  The course steered Pumpkins last release Adore - a quieter, reflective Corgan - has been ditched in favour of anthemic, stadium rock of the order of Anthrax.  A dried out Jimmy Chamberlin returns behind the drums, but it's Corgan, as usual, who dominates.  There's the odd decent track - "The Sacred and Profane" (dreadful title) and "Stand Inside Your Love".  But, songs like "The Everlasting Gaze", "I of Mourning" and "The Imploding Voice" (if only) and concept album pretensions clutter this platter. 

Tosh. 

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