That Dog -- That Dog

That Dog is a cute band that fits an equation for success well on its self-titled first album. Three women, including one with a violin and two dark-haired sisters who don't look quite exactly alike, work with a sensitive male drummer to create a sound very similar to the Breeders' 1990 Pod.

On That Dog, Petra Haden's violin compliments sister Rachel's bass playing to create strong melodies throughout the album. But the vocals are pretty nasal -- even with angelic three-part harmonies, together, Anna Waronker and the Haden sisters' voices remind me more of Liz Phair's deadpan than Kim Deal's unmistakable croon.

That Dog begins with the obligatory few seconds of feedback before breaking into the catchiness of "Old Timer." Sweet melodies back up Brownie camp-like lyrics before plunging into fast-paced vocal harmonies.

Throughout the album, the songs reinforce a girly-girl theme with cutesy lyrics -- the dark and brooding "Angel" could be the soundtrack to Alice's nightmare in wonderland. "Just Like Me" pauses in the middle of a Batman-like bass line for a few seconds of female giggles.

The simple acoustic guitar and violin melody of "Punk Rock Girl" is a far cry from the Dead Milkmen's song by the same name. And "Zodiac" is so psychedelic it could be a long-lost track from the musical Hair.

"Family Functions" is the best song on the album, starting out slowly, then breaking into quirky lyrics about nice Jewish boys and family members as weird as the Addams'.

That Dog sets out on the road the Breeders have already paved in sound and image. (Petra and Rachel Haden aren't just your regular two-years-apart variety -- they're two of three triplets.) Let's see if they can set themselves apart and avoid being hailed the next set of Deal twins.

Vauxhall and I -- Morrissey

Alas, the beautiful season of spring is upon us. Warm days, green grass, a time for love and Morrissey's new album, Vauxhall and I.

Couldn't have timed it better, would you say?

True, Morrissey's name has never been correlated with anything of an overtly happy nature. Yet, through his years as frontman for The Smiths and now as a solo artist, Morrissey has always been able to enliven his often-morose attitudes on love and life in general with a healthy dose of cynicism.

It's that cynical eye that brings out a competent fifth outing for Morrissey with Vauxhall and I. Although the album is a bit more mellow than his last outing, the brilliant Your Arsenal, Morrisey's vocal delivery and lyrics are enough to make the album a worthy listen.

Although he comes close to proving the critics right with a little self-indulgence on such tracks as "Now My Heart is Full" and "I Am Hated for Loving" (the latter of which includes the line, "I still don't belong to anyone -- I'm mine,") Morrissey more than compensates with "Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning" and the brilliant "The Lazy Sunbathers."

As he croons "the sun burns through the planet's core -- and it isn't enough, they want more" amidst a beautifully laid-back arrangement on "The Lazy Sunbathers," Morrissey hits his vain targets with a wonderful subtlety.

The cynicism also shines through on his ode to the music industry, "Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself," a sequel of sorts to The Smiths classic song "Frankley, Mr. Shankley."

Backed by a strong band featuring a number of musicians who performed on Your Arsenal, Morrissey's latest isn't a radical departure for the moody singer. Yet in this day of happy pop and over-ripe anger in music, the glorious cynicism inherent to Vauxhall and I is a welcome relief for the spring.