The majority of young bands are unsure of what they truly want their band to be, aside from famous. This would explain the glittering rayon shirts, the frosted tips lacquered with Dep, and the I- stuck- my- chin- in- a- bowl- of- graphite- powder goatees. At least Muse also know they want to be Radiohead, which would explain the enlisting of producer John Leckie from The Bends and Matthew Bellamy's falsetto- laden yelps, which sound so much like Thom Yorke they could pass as Andy Yorke. It was inevitable after OK Computer that legions of teens would attempt to emulate the irascible, uncomfortably serene, and canonized landmark. This isn't such a terrible ripple. Certainly copying genius is commendable compared to copying Urban Dance Squad.
Showbiz displays all the trademark "promising first album" pleasures and flaws. On one hand, you get the less jaded zeal and direct songwriting. On the other hand, you get the predictable one- word titles, lack of emotional depth, and A&R; fingerprints. 50% of Radiohead consists of adult resignation and deep emotional scarring that a 19- year- old in a shiny blouse just isn't going to have experienced. After all, Muse expertly boil down Radiohead into punkish radio nuggets. Of course, that's the sentence the label will pull from this review. Terse guitar bursts, twinkling keyboard scales, and awkward bass color by numbers. But then again, despite this promise, where can they go from here? Anyone remember Geneva? Muse has to wait and see where Radiohead goes before they can follow the footsteps. Unfortunately for Muse, Radiohead have been sluggishly crapping dozens of versions of new songs in frustration for months while they try to "approach it like Miles Davis." Perhaps Radiohead can start charitable donations of scrapped songs to creatively- starved bands like Muse.
It's both regrettable and ideal that Showbiz comes in such banal baggage. Muse humorously continues Britain's fascination with the monosyllabic monikers and logos. The overly Photoshopped (and terrible) artwork leaves a cold gloss. These flags will ward off stridently "indie" audiences from what is a pretty punchy, tight record. Coupled with Travis, Muse can satiate the rabid Radiohead junkie until LP #4. Yet once that record takes flight, all the Muses of the world will become studio musicians and schoolteachers. This is the circle of life. But does this matter for the music? Yes. Would you rather witness the impact or the wake?
