'CHARIOT STRIPPED'

'CHARIOT STRIPPED'
Gavin DeGraw
(J Records)
sss Gavin DeGraw is far from being a heavy metal artist, so recording an acoustic version of his 2003 debut, "Chariot," is somewhat redundant. DeGraw and his band spent two days in the studio creating "Chariot 'Stripped,'" a live, back-to-basics recording that is being repackaged with the original as a two CD set. Nothing on "Stripped" is mind-blowingly different.
But the imperfections and rawness that come with recording live make the songs of "Chariot" more interesting and intimate. Instead of relying on electric guitar crescendos and double-tracked choruses, DeGraw has to make an impression with only his voice and his piano.
He presents lovely, slowed-down versions of the title song and "(Nice to Meet You) Anyway." Also included is a fun jangly remix of "Chemical Party," and a respectable remake of Sam Cooke's "Change is Gonna Come." Taking away the bells and whistles doesn't correct the missteps of the original, however. "Belief" was boring on "Chariot" and the "Stripped" version is equally plodding. Still, anyone who missed the chance to hear DeGraw in concert should pick up "Stripped." It's the next best thing to being there.
'THE SPINE'
They Might Be Giants
(Idlewild)
sss Nearly two decades after burning up college radio stations with clunky melodies laden with lyrics of postmodern absurdities, They Might Be Giants is probably big enough to do whatever they want.
And after several attempts at children's albums, John Linnell and John Flansburgh have returned on "The Spine" with the spare ditties that earned them a near cult following. But even now, it takes a true fan to trudge through 15 two-minute songs fired off in quick succession. C'mon, the album lasts 36 minutes.
But there is something different with the humor on this album. The twentysomething Johns have become fortysomethings, and the songs carry real-life weight.
Take "Memo to Human Resources," which describes a man taking his problems to the ledge of a building. It's not the same as a heady student boggled by history.
"I'm searching for some disbelief that I can still suspend ... then the people came to talk me down," the song goes. In itself, it's far from funny. But like most They Might Be Giants songs, you laugh and you never know why.
More to the point is "Experimental Film," an homage to those college days when the absurd, at least as it appeared in student art films, carried a weighty meaning and a time when They Might Be Giants wasn't a periphery band.
It's hard to say what place "The Spine" will hold in a music world ruled by trends far removed from 1986, the year the band released its self-titled debut.
Yet perhaps there's no better time for a reintroduction to Giant-style absurdities then right now. The band always did best when it came unexpectedly.
'TRUE STORY'
Terror Squad
(Universal)
ss Fat Joe has kept his ear to the Bronx street for a more than a decade, revamping his sound over the years to match evolving tastes in hip-hop's birthplace and nationwide.
That history hovers over his rejiggered Terror Squad crew and fills the group's new album, "True Story," with both darker undertones of Joe's past and some of the dancy styles he's favored recently. It's an efficient, often enjoyable set of 12 songs (no skits!) that veer from predictable R & amp;B-rap to harsh, winning-battle rhymes.
Joe declares on the CD's opening track, "Of course I'm mad, of course I'm bitter" -- and he and his four-person crew are at their best when they let such raw anger drive the music.
New member Remy Ma is the group's standout voice, teaming with Joe to power the uncompromising summertime hit "Lean Back" and "Yeah Yeah Yeah," a biting lyrical romp over a marching band-gone-hip-hop beat. Remy also shines alongside Armageddon and Prospect on the sample-driven, addictive "Hum Drum."
Joe returns to his lyrical roots on the brilliant, menacing solo cut "Yes Them to Def." He also boldly digs up years-old verses from deceased former rhyme partners Big L and Big Pun for "Bring 'Em Back," a nostalgic highlight full of clever wordplay.
This squad stumbles when it tries for happier sounds. Singer Tony Sunshine's R. Kelly-inspired "well, well, well" chorus doesn't hold the cloying "Streets of NY" together. And "Take Me Home" is a miserable attempt at incorporating Kanye West-style sped-up vocals.
'HYMNS OF THE 49TH PARALLEL'
K.D. lang
(Nonesuch)
ssss Listening to the stately elegance of this disc, it's hard to recall k.d. lang as the tangy and twangy big-boned gal from Alberta who flew south in the late 1980s.
Lang enjoys concept albums, and this is her best yet -- a tribute to the songwriters of her native Canada. She anchors it with two songs each from Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen and Jane Siberry and slips in her own composition, "Simple," that matches the others in mood and quality.
We might have cut back Siberry, featured more from the perpetually overlooked Ron Sexsmith and found a better Bruce Cockburn tune, but any fan would bring similar ideas.
Her voice has always been a formidable instrument and has rarely sounded better. She shows subtlety and finesse, never overwhelming the compositions, like a basketball coach who coaches to his players instead of vice versa. The idiosyncrasies of Mitchell's "A Case of You" -- lang goes with the mood and plays with the lyrics -- the formalism of Cohen's "Hallelujah" and fragile beauty of Sexsmith's "Fallen" are all well captured. This disc fits nicely next to Norah Jones in the CD player.
Still, it's hard not to listen and wonder: Does anyone in Canada rock? A Neil Young song has rarely sounded so formal, so mannered. No one expects rock 'n' roll -- the album is called "Hymns" for a reason -- but more shifts in mood and tempo would have been welcome.
We know she can do it.
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