Listening Station: Riddlin' Kids, John Legend, the Transmissionary Six

Riddlin' Kids' latest is an overdose of snore-core

Riddlin' Kids

Stop the World

Everyone grew up with the sort of young men who make up Austin, Texas quartet Riddlin' Kids. They were our neighbors, schoolmates and teammates in Little League--not exactly jocks or in-crowd kids, but hardly the clique that spent its lunch breaks immersed in role-playing games. You might talk with them in class, or say hi to them when passing their locker. When their band played house parties and coffeehouses, you showed up even if it was only for peer support, or the novelty of seeing a band whose members you knew. And since you had fourth period science with them, you could find justifications for liking their music, even though kids in other cities and suburbs were having radio hits with the same type of songs, the ones you knocked because they were too poppy or uncool.

Evidenced on their second full-length, Stop the World, the Riddlin' Kids embody this modern rock archetype and aren't the least bit self-conscious about it. They revel in their inoffensive, faux punk sound, polished thoroughly and occasionally co-written by lackey producers favored by major labels, and melodic enough to win over the important teenage female demographic--yet abrasive enough so the boys dig it, too. There isn't an ounce of pretension anywhere because the music lacks any sort of ambition or depth. You get the impression the band's only goals seem to be having a good time--even when the lyrics imply a certain amount of angst--and pleasing their fans. The word "sellout" can't apply because it feels so naturally unprincipled; call it a simple, efficient connectivity that only alienates the rock snob.

Stop the World bridges radio punk and power pop, like a Warped Tour-approved incarnations of Cheap Trick and Everclear. Songs like the title track suggest a less-subversive Green Day, while "Apology" invites the same emo-lite comparisons as bands like Good Charlotte and New Found Glory. This is to say the songwriting is unabashedly formulaic, from the usual three-minute/three-chord structures to the typical schoolboy musings in the lyrics. But as the former makes for an easy entrance into the Kids' music, the latter makes no attempt to keep the listener aboard. Singer/guitarist Clint Baker's words are too anonymous for the type of fan attachment enjoyed by acts like Dashboard Confessional and Saves the Day, and lack the character and narrative of, say, Fountains of Wayne. Such blanket statements on growing up won't inspire a Smiths-like following, but then again, these are the kids next door. Who wants to knock them?--Mike Prevatt

Riddlin' Kids performs 7 p.m. Saturday, Jan. 15 with Bowling For Soup, American HiFi and MC Lars at Jillian's. Tickets $12. Info: 759-0450.

John Legend

Get Lifted

It's going to take a lot more than a solid debut from John Legend to bring R&B back out from under the shadow of hip-hop, but the die is cast with Get Lifted, the first release from budding music mogul Kanye West's Getting Out Our Dreams label.

Legend, having provided vocals and piano for several other West-driven projects, strikes out on his own effectively, thanks mostly to a classically soulful voice that manages to be both rough and smooth simultaneously. Shades of gospel, sultry jazz, and street corner doo-wop show up in his vocal inflections, which shift seamlessly from raspy growls to honey-sweet melodies to a Curtis Mayfield-like falsetto.

Most of the backing rhythms are solid, too, with the exception of the West-produced "Number One," built around an overused sample of Mayfield's "Let's Do It Again." Played-out pimp themes bog down much of the disc; Legend's either flaunting by-the-numbers braggadocio or trying to sweet talk his baby after cheating.

But when he steps outside the modern R&B stereotypes, Legend shines. A cool, Caribbean feel freshens up "She Don't Have to Know," and he gets all Bobby Womack on that ass for the folksy "Stay With You." He sticks to just piano and vocals for pop ballad "Ordinary People," which shows off his able songwriting.

Like almost all music these days, Get Lifted frequently panders to the dominating hip-hop audience. There's an even an appearance from Snoop Dogg. But if Legend can stick to his old school roots, he could have a long career ahead of him.--Brock Radke

T.H. White

More Than Before

A good friend once said the best music evokes the sounds of where its artist is from. If that's the case, the debut album by multi-instrumentalist/producer/engineer T.H. White is a must-hear for anyone seeking the musical roundup of the Big Apple. In fact, the nine-track More Than Before may be the most New York-sounding album since the Beastie Boys unleashed To the 5 Boroughs last year, especially given White's range of influences. Though his often voxless ruminations most immediately reflect `70s guitar rock, it's built on a foundation of downtempo funk and impressively blends together elements of soul, jazz, psychedelica and hip hop, blessing each song with a casual yet distinguished urban tone. What this approach doesn't welcome is songwriting. There are very few moments where the music reaches out toward the listener; instead, it's sculpted as soundscapes that eschew harmonic narratives. If live chillout grooves and progressive jazz rock move you, so might More Than Before.--Mike Prevatt

The Transmissionary Six

Get Down

Transmissionary Six is the newest outlet of alt-country caretakers Terri Moeller (The Walkabouts) and Paul Austin (The Willard Grant Conspiracy). Probably the coolest thing about Get Down is the nature of Moeller's contribution: She bangs the drum, she sings the song, and there's something pleasing in the contrast between these expressive poles. But it's the percussion here that breaks out more often (i.e. very occasionally), while Moeller's twanged-up vocals stay politely seated, legs crossed. This would be the uncoolest thing about Get Down--it doesn't. It's sluggish and fatally underinspired, both musically and lyrically. Precious few good ideas come around, and these show up mostly in instrumentals like the vibey, '60s-noir "Johnny & Waldo." In the end, these 12 tracks are just fine as mellow, purely functional accompaniment to a rainy day, Cowboy Junkies-style, but don't expect much reward for really listening.--Dave Surratt