record reviews

Cheap Trick

Album: “Bang Zoom Crazy ... Hello”

Grade: A

Some classic-rock bands limp into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on the basis of past reputation. On the other hand, Cheap Trick – the hard-charging, melodic rockers from Rockford, Ill. – is racing full speed ahead into the Rock Hall, fueled by its best album in decades.

“Bang Zoom Crazy ... Hello” kicks off with a blast of feedback and a classic guitar-bass-and-drum roar on “Heart on the Line,” which would make a great concert opener if they ever tire of the traditional “Hello There.” There are at least four potential hit singles on this album: A remake of the ’60s Dobie Gray track “The In Crowd,” “Long Time No See Ya,” the clap-happy “Blood Red Lips” and “No Direction Home.”

As it has since the ’70s, Cheap Trick infuses its songs with Beatle-esque harmonies, dramatic chord changes and progressions, and guitarist Rick Nielsen’s quirky, minimalist solos, all atop a pounding beat that makes these songs easy to listen to and hard to forget.

—Wayne Parry, Associated Press

Gwen Stefani

Album: “This is What the Truth Feels Like”

Grade: D

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Stefani – the squeaky-voiced No Doubt singer and judge for NBC’s “The Voice” – is certainly in full-court rebuff/rebound mode. Going through the heartbreak of discovering she had a cheating husband and then finding romance with “Voice” co-worker Blake Shelton is Stefani’s double default mode here.

With her falsetto set to “cry,” she croons the words to “Used to Love You” (“I remembered for the first time / Since I hated you / That I used to love you”) with the perfect quavering blend of spite and sorrow. The computer game-synths of “You’re My Favorite” give the breathy singer proper berth to be charmingly cheerful without gushing. Aside from these few tunes, “Truth” doesn’t feel like much, at least nothing original in terms of its sound or vision. It is ska-synth-lite with pallid power ballads tossed in. Lyrically, Stefani sounds trite and goofy throughout.

—A.D. Amorosi, Philadelphia Inquirer