A wise man will tell you, never judge a book by its cover. How about a CD by its jacket? Or maybe its title? I’ll admit, I had made up my mind about this CD before I’d even found a seam to perforate the plastic wrapping. As you can guess, I was wrong- well, sort of. I had pegged this work as an emulation of RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE, or something of that vein. Much to my surprise, I found myself re-examining the jacket from the first note. (The key word here is note.)

The disk begins, as any socially conscious CD should, with dialogue. Act one-is announced as, "convocation for the disgruntled". (Sounds like fun!) A doctrine of non-conformist psychobabble reminds us to be open to new things. Eventually, a stream of jazz influenced light rock begins. Suddenly, you spot a light in this bemusing tunnel of what appears to be a rock opera. Play on! Enter the male lead of Jeffrey Halloran, whose sometimes-soulful yet rockable voice is far less grating than the words he belts out. He is accompanied by Marie Gisonni if only to complicate matters. The smooth transitions of piano and guitar make you forget what they are vocalizing. It’s a good thing too. Unfortunately, the dialogue resurfaces like commercials on prime time television. No doubt they are to serve as a reminder of the price to be paid for all that is good in this world.

The delicate balance struck between the complex musical arrangements and the conversely simplistic lyrics is thrown off kilter with the announcement of act two. "Bile from the belly of a jackal", carries with it the subsequent monologue that lashes out at the President and the media with child-like dissertation. Again, we feign some interest in hopes of heightening the musical experience. Eventually, an oasis of up-tempo piano jazz allows us to put the remote down. The interspersing of dialogue teeter-totters from mildly obtrusive to downright, "Weird Al"-style, annoying.

The pattern continues into act three, but it is a little easier to digest by now. We see Gisonni take some of the lead and redeem herself on a few tracks. However, there are still varying degrees of blathering to be contended with. Another twist in this paradigm of pseudo-political irrelevance, is a drift towards gospel. One can only assume that this represents the separation of church and state.

Throughout this debacle of social discourse, the music remains the sole salvation with the spoken words detracting the most from the experience. The short sets of melodies are as refreshing as march rain. They move seamlessly as if it were unbridled at each pause in lyrics. There is a tremendous amount of potential here.

We finally reach act four, which should be entitled, "Redemption". The music stands alone, triumphantly exclaiming it’s ability transcend the morass of vocal subjugation. Track after track, you are drawn towards an almost inescapable urge to repeat the experience. Ronnie Neuhauser’s guitar work shows off brilliantly. The previously elusive arrangements come full circle here. This is substance. This is what the entire disk could have been-nay-should have been. I fear many who buy (or sample) this CD will never make it this far.

Unfortunately, We never really learn what message is being conveyed in this…. encounter. We do, however, learn patience.

– L.J.

**1/2