Return of Dragon
(Def Soul)

In this latest outing, Sisqö goes for a "concept album" of sorts--that is, if you think 12 tracks about dogging your girl, making up with your girl, and dogging her again (ad infinitum) counts as a "concept." While Sisqö's lyrics can often be thrillingly stoopid (consider the laughable brilliance of the "Thong Song"), the only single on this disc which picks up decent head-noddin', booty-shakin' speed is "Last Night," where Sisqö can't even stay loyal to his skirt in his dreams. Basically, he lays down the same old track, and expects you suckas to lay out the green. Don't be fooled, folks. Though he may claim it, this ain't the crunk. WM. STEVEN HUMPHREY

One Touch
* * 1/2

WARNING. Any minute now, you'll be turning on the MTV, and you'll undoubtedly hear an absolutely bumpin' new track called "Overload" from the latest incarnation of pop diva threesomes called Sugababes. You will be tempted to run, not walk, to your nearest record outlet to purchase the CD. If this temptation begins to overtake you, please be warned: While you'll surely be joyously overwhelmed by the snappy pop harmonies, and jazzy dance beats of "Overload," THIS IS A ONE-HIT WONDER. As you listen to the rest of the disc, your joy will quickly wane, and you'll be overcome by the tedium of these gals' pretty but uninspired vocals. And though the wicked bass licks and beats continue to show inspiration in the Portishead vein, you'll look at the little squiggly lines emanating from your wallet, and wish you'd simply spent your hard-earned dough for the single of "Overload," which I hereby decree deserves FOUR BIG STARS! WSH

Everybody Doesn't

Okay, it's become pretty goddam obvious that Madonna needs to spend a little less time with that baby of hers, and a bit more time with her Maverick record label. Obviously fearing they had not sufficiently cornered the 12-year-old pubescent Disney Channel market, Maverick has genetically engineered yet another Christina clone named Amanda, who shares not only the same vapid stare, but is virtually identical down to black roots peeking out of her dyed blonde scalp. Consisting of 11 tracks with J-Lo lite beats, Amanda goes out of her way to smash the impressionable youth of our nation over the head with vaguely Christian Right morality tales about remaining sexually chaste until death, and how to find out if your b-friend really loves you (he'll kiss you on the cheek, and give you his beeper). Frankly, every 12-year-old I know would call bullshit on that. I mean, who the fuck does this Amanda think she is? Mussolini? Shit, Sisqö's got more crunkthan her. WSH