Copyright 1993 The Dallas Morning News   
THE DALLAS MORNING NEWS
February 21, 1993, Sunday, HOME FINAL EDITION
SECTION: THE ARTS; POP RECORDINGS; Pg. 5C
LENGTH: 506 words
HEADLINE: Penchant for pop pays off
BYLINE: David Okamoto
BODY:

     Spilt Milk, Jellyfish (Charisma); Million Seller, the Pooh
Sticks (Zoo) -- With their silly names and endearing but decidedly
unfashionable penchant for pubescent pop, San Francisco's Jellyfish
and England's Pooh Sticks dare to be wistful wimps in an era
 of musclebound metalheads.
     Their brashly derivative, bubblegum-smacking originals --
built around fuzzy guitars, creamy harmonies and precious
paraphrasings of '60s and '70s hits -- serve as hokey but heartfelt
homages to lost innocence spiked with clever melodies and a sly,
irrev
erent edge that elevates them beyond mere hook-plundering
exercises.
     On its sophomore effort, Spilt Milk, Jellyfish fleshes out the
Beatles and Badfinger influences that sparked 1990's Bellybutton
with a dazzling kaleidoscope of strings, horns, harps, tubas,
accordions, harpsichords and channel-hopping effects that recall
 the wall of sound that Brian Wilson erected on Pet Sounds.
     Lead singer Andy Sturmer, keyboardist Roger Manning and
bassist Tim Smith pile on layers of vocal tracks, creating an
ethereal choir effect that mimics the Beach Boys and Queen with
eerie accuracy.  They also dose the dense arrangements with sneaky
refer
ences to Bruce Springsteen, Wings-era Paul McCartney, Supertramp
(check out the cheesy keyboards on New Mistake) and even the Jesus
and Mary Chain.
     From the flower-power pop of Sebrina, Paste and Plato to such
smirking teen anthems as the Raspberries-flavored Joining a Fan
Club and The Ghost at Number One (about the overinflated adoration
bestowed on rock stars after their deaths), Jellyfish stitche
s together a swirling pastiche of songs and sounds, creating an
ambitious concept album that fits somewhere between Sgt. Pepper and
the Dukes of Stratosphear's Chips From the Chocolate Fireball.
     While Jellyfish is just discovering the joys of pilfering from
pop's past, the Pooh Sticks have apparently outgrown it.  Last
year's The Great White Wonder was loaded with overt cops from Neil
Young's Powderfinger, Hot Chocolate's Emma and the Four Seaso
ns' Who Loves You.  But save for a passing reference to Alice
Cooper's Hello Hurray and subtle nods to Todd Rundgren and the 1910
Fruitgum Co., the wryly titled Million Seller is a more
straightfaced, more elegantly produced expression of leader Hue
Willi
ams' fascination with pop kitsch and puppy love.
     Baby Wanna Go Round With Me and the luscious That Was the
Greatest Song are two of the most charming pop songs you'll never
hear on the radio.  But without the playful shenanigans of The
Great White Wonder, much of Million Seller comes across more childi
sh than childlike.  Only a handful of songs bother to rock, leaving
such limp, acoustic piano- and guitar-driven ballads as Sugar Baby,
Goodbye Don't Mean I'm Gone and Jelly on a Plate to emulate the
blissed-out mush of Donovan and Crosby, Stills and Nash
.  Those are worn-out touchstones for a smart, satirical band that
once considered comparisons to the Archies a compliment.

 -- David Okamoto