People write songs for any of countless reasons: some are trying to figure out this crazy thing called life, some are just in it for a cheap buck, some want to say goodbye one last time to a departed loved one and some simply want to declare their fondness for fucking inflatable dolls. Saul Zonana is all this and more. Possessed of a musical palette that sounds like the leavings from a Fountains of Wayne rummage sale mixed with a handful of ultrasafe adult contemporary modes and a lyrical bent that sounds cribbed from a C-student's Philosophy 101 lecture notes, Zonana uses Guinea Pigs to pretend like he's already hit the big time, but just because he tells us he's a star doesn't mean that anybody has to believe him. The oddly counterproductive "Afraid of Dying" puts a chorus of "I can't help it, I can't help it/I'm afraid of dying" on infinite repeat in the hopes that it might convince us that the song is "Hey Jude" or "I Believe (When I Fall In Love It Will Be Forever)," which it's not. Not that that's the only big dumb gesture here: "I'm The One," which I suspect is supposed to convey awe of that special someone but is too lyrically muddled for me to be certain, ends with, oh my God yes, birds chirping, and the less said about "Fool On A Bicycle," the better. Then there's the semi-charmed "Bette," which kicks off the album and leaves a bad aftertaste before the end of the first chorus. I mean, it's not even the best inflatable doll song I've ever heard, which is sad. And at least the Police had the soundness of mind to bury theirs in the middle of side two. (MH)
(20/20 Music -- 108 Village Square, Suite 242, Somers, NY. 10589; http://www.2020music.net/; Saul Zonana -- http://www.saulzonana.com/)