Shaquille O'Neal Respect (Polygram)

It's really amazing what being a multi-millionaire can afford you. The man obviously loves hip hop, but he needs to stop thinking that he's the same Shaq on the mic that he is on the court. At 26 years old, this guy has had more of a career in hip hop than most artists but, as amazing as that is, this album is another stinky hummer destined for the $2.99 clearance bins at HMV. I "respect" the fact that he has the means to do just about whatever he wants, but damn, Shaq, step away from the mic! 2/10 (Scott C)

Mudhoney Tomorrow Hit Today (Reprise/ Warner)

After '95's crappy My Brother the Cow, Mudhoney are back on track. Since they were the first band to get slapped with the "grunge" label, this might seem impossible, but this, their first record in three years, was definitely worth the wait. The Blue Cheer/Stooges dirge "Beneath the Valley of the Underdog" and the rockin' "I Have to Laugh" find these drunkards off the wagon and back to the killer songwriting that they were famous for before releasing the horrific "Every Good Boy..." CD. Mudhoney, you gave us a scare back there, but it's good to see you again. 9/10 (Johnson Cummins)

Goo Goo Dolls Dizzy Up the Girl (Warner)

Goo Goo Dolls have never been a critic's favourite and, after careful scrutinizing of their new album, I think I finally know why. They really blow. Harbouring a Replacements fetish that can't even be matched by Montreal's own Asexuals, the Dolls dabble away at slow-dance/make-out hits, devoid of substance and personality. I felt like I was trapped in an elevator for 40 minutes while the muzak just kept playing and playing and playing. Did I mention that they really blow? 1/10 (Johnson Cummins)

Cecil Seaskull Whoever (Teenage USA)

So Cecil's no longer Nerdy Girl, but she's still basically a one-gal indie band--with a bunch of help on her second album from other errant Montrealers in L.A., including Melissa Auf der Main, Julie McGovern (ex-Bite), Rufus Wainwright and producer Steve Kravac. Spare strum und sang with some nice, offbeat touches (Wainwright's voice all distorto, trumpet), the rub here is that Seaskull's lovelorn indie-rock-gal shtick has little allure five years after Guyville. 6/10 (Chris Yurkiw)

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This document was created Thursday, September 24, 1998. ©Mirror 1998