Cranes: Population Four

Cranes' first few records had to compete with the heap of Manchester shoegazer albums that overpopulated college radio stations in the early '90s. But the band managed to outlast most of its Eurotrash contemporaries, thanks primarily to an unusual sound that featured the pinched, little-girl vocals of singer Alison Shaw. For those who haven't heard her sing, we're not talking about breathy, Sundays-style swooning; Shaw's voice is higher than a three-year-old boy's, and she enunciates about as clearly. ("Please" invariably comes out "pweeze," which ain't pretty.) Population Four is probably the least musically inventive of Cranes' four albums; most songs are rooted in mere acoustic stumming ("Tangled Up," "Brazil") or predictably tense electric arrangements ("On Top Of The World"). Without the nest of dissonance and swirling guitars, Shaw's voice is brought to the fore of Population Four, and the album is pretty damned hard to endure for more than a few minutes at a time. If you're among Shaw's admirers—which means you're probably from somewhere in Eastern Europe, where the band is huge—you probably won't mind her voice becoming the band's primary instrument. The rest of us would do well to take a pass.