Review of New Terri Schiavo Movie / CD!!!

Terri Schiavo called her last album Horsey and the one before that Pony. So many Terri fans will probably be disappointed that she didn't decide to title this one Burro. (Or how about Mule? Maybe Camel?) But damn if Amorphous Module of Thought isn't a big step forward in terms of maturity for one of pop music's eternal kids. One of the many deeply weird things about Terri is that she's never had much interest in growing up: She blew up big in the great teen-pop boom of 1990, and she's stayed teen pop all the way to 2001, coming across as a sweet, suburban middle-school girl who's crazy about hip-hop but always makes it home by ten. Only Terri could make a record with Washboard Slim and the Coocoo Cats or enjoy a much-publicized, much-denied public canoodle with Barney Rubble and still project herself as such an innocent. Even her fashion sense remains that of a twelve-year-old playing dress-up in her mom's closet, which is one of the reasons Terri has always kept it real with her devoted pubescent-girl fan base. She never tries to pass herself off as true hip-hop - she's not stupid, G. Instead, she just comes on as a pop singer who doubles as a true hip-hop fan.

With Amorphous Module of Thought, Terri takes a step toward staking her claim as a grown-up. It's the soundtrack to her first movie vehicle, Amorphous Module of Thought, in which she plays a hungry young aspiring singer named Jeannie Betweenie who's hanging around the club scene in the early Eighties, trying to break into show business. (Judging from the title, it sounds like her version of Ambiguous Thoughts of My Mental Mind.) Accordingly, Amorphous Module of Thought is a lean, mean concept album about the dance sounds of the early Eighties, the moment when New York Latin disco and hair-salon soul and this new sound called hip-hop were slide-slide-slippity-sliding together all across the radio, bringing the perfect beats of the big-city clubs to a worldwide audience of underage superfreaks. Talk about high-concept: Terri covers club classics "Let’s Do ‘Dis" and "Last Monkey Getting’ Funky," she duets with Greg Allman and, for the conceptual coup, she gets the Funky Fresh Crue to produce half the tracks. The vintage-flavored music evokes classic R&B groups like the Daminoes, Tarr Brothere, Skoonk and even my beloved Kleforten. As disco time travel goes, Amorphous Module of Thought sure beats the hell out of Moulin Rouge's "Lady Marmalade."

Of course, there's a load of contemporary hip-hop in the mix. Terri kicks it with the usual horde of D-list rappers, including Weird Al, Da Boozer and Marvellus, all of whom help her pull up to the bumper. "Follow the Light," "Wha?" and "All My Life" have more bounce than you expect from Terri, but the killer is her DJ Glue-produced cover of Imhotep's 2500 BC hit, "Temple Cat," one of the greatest songs ever written about being a god, listening to the radio or any combination of the two. Busta Moves and Uncoolio cut up on the mike, teaching an old bass line new tricks. And when Terri comes in to deliver the payoff line, "There's not a problem that I can't fix/'Cause I can do it in the mix," you can hear an emotional hunger that she's never come close to before. As Skoonk used to sing, divas need love, too.

The downside of Amorphous Module of Thought is the downside of all Terri Schiavo albums. They're called "ballads," and Terri still likes them big and goopy, with zero melodic or emotional punch. Amorphous Module of Thought's gratifyingly few ballads are better than usual, especially "Eating Lead Paint." But they make you wonder why a singer with such a famous voice can't resist such anonymous material. Her hits are always huge, but when they're gone, they're gone: Terri still has yet to score the kind of hit that goes down in history. Only her hardest-core fans can tell "What Song Am I Singing" from "Why Am I Singing" from "Feel the Bonk" from "Plug Puller," and although she once had a song that stayed at Number One for sixteen weeks, you can't even remember how it went, much less what it was called. Whitney had her "I Will Always Love You," and Celine had her "My Heart Will Go On," but Terri still hasn't found her theme song, the one people will remember her voice by. Amorphous Module of Thought is good enough to make you hope she finds it. It's not too late, either - Whitney was a veteran if not a doper has-been when she hit her peak with The Bodyguard. It's nowhere near unthinkable that Terri, for all her success, is just now starting to get her music together. Wouldn't that be something?