Reviews of three new releases   S Club 7 S Club 7 Interscope Of Related Interest: "2 Become 1," "Spice Up Your Life," "Mind of a Lunatic" Remember the Spice Girls? I sure as hell do--and I've been waiting for a new album for quite some time now! Pop fans, if you wanna get your Spice fix, S Club 7 delivers! Simon Fuller, the mad scientist behind so many hot Brit pop groups, screams, "BLAM! Did it again!" S Club 7: four girls, three boys...and, oh, the endless possibilities for stardom. Jo, Tina, Jon, Paul, Bradley, Hannah, and Rachel have captured the hearts of American teenagers--and me--and won't let go for a while. Imagine, if you will, the Spice Girls bumping uglies with 98 Degrees. Put the offspring on Fox primetime. The hit TV showcase for which this band was spawned provides more teenage drama than California Dreams and Saved by the Bell: The Next Class combined. In other words, I'd rather watch Betty White of The Golden Girls dance a four-song set at the Acropolis. Still, the album is summed up neatly by one lyric: "Ain't no party like an S Club party!" The disc makes ya wanna shake the booty that God gave ya! "Bring It All Back," the first single off the album and theme song to the Fox Family hit, will never, ever leave your head. Just like the Spice, S Club sports a Latin tune called "Viva La Fiesta," which sadly sounds nothing like "Viva Las Vegas." "Everybody Wants Ya" has that '60s uptempo R&B sound mixed with '90s pop, kinda like "Stop" off Spice World. The low points? Believe me--I didn't think it would have any low points either! But it does. "Gonna Change the World" should be stricken from this CD and locked away in a sealed vault under military guard, along with Nelson's "After the Rain." Not catchy, not happy-feely, this song comes off as a cut-up knockoff of the Girls' "Mama." Sorry to drop so many Spice references, but S Club will satisfy the hunger. In fact, this triumph reminds you what the Girls might have achieved if Ginger hadn't pussed out. S Club is the best thing to happen in pop since 'N Sync's No Strings Attached. As the last track on the album says, there's hope for the future for these adorable little scamps. To seal the deal, these clean-scrubbed darlings even give a shout-out to none other than those nasty rappers the Geto Boyz--as in, "Geto Boyz, make some noise!" No joke! You know somewhere out there, Bushwick Bill is yellin' his ass off. Travis Frost       The Who The Blues to the Bush (Live) musicmaker.com Of Related Interest: $300 tickets, flimsy recordings, dubious distribution strategies The Blues to the Bush is available only through the Web site www.musicmaker.com, where the whole shebang can be downloaded for $13; individual tracks cost $1. A 2-CD non-virtual version is $19.90. Nobody knows what it's like to be the sad one, except for the luckless few who've suffered through this double album recorded in Chicago and London late last year. The Who continues the ill-advised exhumation of its once-thrilling songs. The exorbitant ticket prices for these shows benefited charities dear to Townshend, Entwhistle and Daltrey; unfortunately, fans duped into shelling out for this release can't write it off. Good cause or no good cause, this senior-league trot calls to mind a weary bar band plugging out covers rather than the real thing. "My Generation," in particular, turns into a nine-minute extravaganza of self-parody. "Hope I die before I get old"? Christ, we'll all be old before this take is through. Wasn't the whole point of "My Generation" that it felt like the world might shatter before its three minutes expired? That old nervy aesthetic is history, replaced by an obligatory "Magic Bus" (worse than the original patchouli-soaked abortion, which the band itself is said to hate) and a procession of endless quasi-anthems. Ironically, only the wintergreen crackle of "I Can't Explain," the band's first-ever release, offers a glimpse of the old glory. Otherwise, this may be the most inessential thing this most essential band has ever done. Zach Dundas   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Willamette Week | originally published May 10, 2000