Reviews of new releases from The London Suede, Manic Street Preachers, and Cibo Matto   Cibo Matto Stereo Type A (Warner Brothers) Of related interest: IQU, Buffalo Daughter, Mocket Cibo Matto, Imperial Teen The Womb 215 SE 9th Ave., 224-4400 9 pm Monday, June 21 $12 When Cibo Matto's Viva! La Woman hit the shelves in 1995, I was suspicious. With its food theme, cute Japanese front gals and grrl-power title, the platter smelled like deep-fried commodification. But even wily rock critics sometimes get bonked over the head with surprises that turn dour frowns upside down. Viva! La Woman whiplashed me with banshee shrieks, winding backbeats, street-stoop cool and strange, strange lyrics: "Something was cooking, but wasn't yet a chicken." It is an adventurous, thoroughly delicious record. The ladies' side project, Butter 08, also proved explosive, with a more guitar-based sound and ardent drums. Could Cibo Matto do no wrong? Sadly, Stereo Type A proves they're not superheroes, tromping too often the over-familiar ground of Latin Lite, Cocktail Nation and pretty, pretty lyrical content. For the first half of the record, it sounds like CM's going straight. "Spoon" recalls a Spice Girls power ballad, and "Flowers" seems lifted from a K-Tel Krazy Kocktail Kompilation. But fans who wait it out will be rewarded with some treats. "Sci-Fi Wasabi" is the CM of yesterday, with the loco ladies kicking a story about cruising N.Y.C. in rapture. "Clouds" melds beat-box with bleeps, burps and computerized vocals. It's disappointing that the record doesn't venture forward in experimental realms, but if you start at track six, Stereo Type A will do you right. Caryn B. Brooks   The London Suede Head Music (Sony) Of related interest: T. Rex, Pet Shop Boys, David Bowie Manic Street Preachers This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours (Virgin) Of related interest: Radiohead, Nirvana, Pablo Picasso, Marxism Both Suede and the Manic Street Preachers, elders of '90s Brit-pop, lost key members at crucial moments. Guitarist Bernard Butler quit Suede just before the release of its second album; after the Manics' third record, charismatic lyricist Richey James vanished, leaving only his abandoned passport and car. Each band had proven that it was more than a flash in the pan but suddenly found itself relegated to square one. Amazingly, both followed these massive setbacks with their greatest commercial and critical successes. As they return with new albums, they once more find themselves with nothing left to prove. Head Music and This is My Truth shine with the confidence of artists who've made it. Suede's latest pushes the glammy pop of 1997's Coming Up toward spacier, groove-oriented territory, kicking the listener from the soothing "Everything Will Flow" to "Elephant Man," a ridiculous, cocky joke that lodges in your head like dangerous Semtex. Meanwhile, the Manics have shifted from the knee-jerk leftism of their youth, tempering politics with actual emotion. They still have songs about the Spanish Civil War ("If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next") and police brutality ("S.Y.M.M."), but they mix in tender examinations of changing relationships ("The Everlasting") and self-denial ("Born a Girl"). They can still rock like the dirty metal that first inspired them, but now there's a grander, more enduring sweep to their songs. This is rock's ideal: Once-young heroes perform better than ever without losing their initial spark. As we grow, they grow with us, improving with age. Jamie S. Rich - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Willamette Week | originally published June 16, 1999