Rock Steady

Coming of age at the tail end of the mid-’90s alternative boom, and lumped in with fellow ska-punk graduates like Rabid, No Doubt have always been somewhat lost in the grey area between bogus alternative rawk and credible edgy pop.

Rock Steady comes with aspirations towards roots-reggae by way of dancehall beats (a cocktail which calls to mind queasy connotations of Blondie circa The Hunter rather than Parallel Lines), but the band have made a wise choice in plumping mostly for luscious cherry pop here, crafting a bunch of tunes that can slot easily between nu-punk and the new Pink. In fact, the opener ‘Hella Good’ is a forward flash to what Britney might sound like in five years, all sparse disco bleeps, devilishly clever little overdub details and a close-up vocal courtesy of Ms Stefani.

But then, production wise at least, they’ve thrown in everything and the kitchen sink, splitting the tracks between Dave Stewart, Prince, Nellee Hooper, Mark Stent, William Orbit and The Neptunes. The only missing link is Mike Chapman, but his spirit crops up in the noo wave soda jerk and Jimmy Destri pitch-bending of ‘Don’t Let Me Down’ (take a bow Ric Ocasek).

All kudos to the small army of mixdown men: Rock Steady is a polished jukebox where you can barely register the sides turning over and the coins hitting the clinker.

Pastiches abound (‘Making Out’ – midwifed by Orbit with one eye on the melody tweeter and the other on the bassline woofer – steals retro disco handclaps and “oowah-oowah” whoops with the aplomb of a Ciccone), but they can pull it off. The only real blunder is a non-song hook-up with Prince (‘Waiting Room’), but I guess the Paisley Park invoice alone must justify its inclusion.

Rock Steady is not the kind of record to stagger in your door and bleed all over the carpet. Rather, it’s a troubled party girl who just wants to dance, chew gum, do a little karaoke and worry about the morning after, the morning after. Which is fine by me.