OMC / How Bizarre by Josh Aderholt PolyGram Records I have no idea how the big middle feels about OMC; I don't know if the same invisible people who allow Mariah Carey to top the charts are buying How Bizarre. If I had to guess, I'd say they aren't -- I have yet to hear much of an obligatory second single on Top 40 reflecting anything of the sort. I do have a notion how musical "sophisticates" are receiving How Bizarre; they aren't. Who can blame them though? We all know well the shame of owning a Ben Folds Five CD, let alone a CD by a Top 40 artist. Even fun-loving Dave Matthews and Sugar Ray aficionados seem to be ignoring OMC. Maybe it's a racial thing. At any rate, barring the success of the single "How Bizarre," OMC seems not to be taking off, doomed to one-hit-wonder status. Nevertheless, How Bizarre is genuinely strong. Avoiding the temptation of trying to recreate the success of "How Bizarre," a hit single more than a year before the album was recorded, front man Pauly Fuemana and producer Alan Jansson have co-written a diverse and sophisticated album. A native of Auckland, New Zealand, Pauly Fuemana essentially is OMC. It is impossible to overstate the man's style -- his vocal delivery, whether heard in melodic, understated spoken verse or in the pure balladry of a chorus, is consistently colored by the same slightly off-center panache that makes you think twice about "How Bizarre." I've heard his stage presence is stunning, and I believe it. Touted as the man to bring "the unique sound of Polynesia" to the rest of the world, I find it either difficult to find one "sound" dominating How Bizarre or amazed by the broadness of the "Polynesian sound." While most tracks are bound together by an acoustic rhythm guitar, the variety within is undeniable. "On The Run," the opening track, somehow manages to successfully combine the synthesized rhythm and lead guitar breaks of 80s New Wave with surf-rock slide guitar and Fuemana's unique style of rap (although the man's voice is so musical that it is rarely clear whether he is speaking or singing). "Never Coming Back" could be called an elegant ethereal ballad were it not for an inexplicably unabrasive rapid spoken interlude. "Breaking My Heart" is driven by bottle-neck slide blues riffs, while "Angel in Disguise" runs on an impressive string arrangement. The Tijuana brass of "How Bizarre" resurfaces in "Land of Plenty" and "Right On." In spite of this diversity, the album remains cohesive by virtue of its consistent feel. Songs of pain like "Breaking My Heart" are buoyant, while an overwhelmingly positive love song like "Angel in Disguise" seems tinged with sadness. In "Land of Plenty," a paen to New Zealand, Fuemana describes his home thus: "Bays of Plenty, the Bluff, the Cape/Steaming sands, boiling place ... The Picton Ferry decides your fate/Oval Square, Civic centres and Nelson George where we lost a mate." How Bizarre is a unique, warm, honest, record of loss in paradise.

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