Matthew Sweet

Fifties starlet Tuesday Weld graces the cover of Matthew Sweet's irresistible third album;
inside, the fresh-voiced singer serenades such other fantasy femmes as Winona Ryder and
underground-comics star Evangeline. And with virtually all of its fifteen tunes offering
joyous or yearning or bittersweet statements about romance, Girlfriend is the breathless
testimony of a fool for love. But Sweet is one sharp fool. While quivering at times... More >

Sweet's turn of phrase and tone of voice don't add much to the store of human knowledge about romantic love, and he's not much better on God or war. So he lets guitars define the ineffables for him--his stormy acoustic, Lloyd Cole's workaday electric chunka, and Greg Leisz's choked steel provide a forum where Richard Lloyd and Robert Quine can testify. And though Lloyd shouldn't be forgotten--his slash and roll jumpstart the record--it's Quine's aural kabala, longer on syntheses of ache and soar than on terrible beauty or abstract calm in this context, that contains the wisdom Sweet needs. Just don't expect a translation. (Grade: A-)