A L S O_.T O D A Y Blue Glow Angel's scary Christmas on "Buffy"; cross-dressing on "King of the Hill" Y E S T E R D A Y Home Movies By Charles Taylor John Boorman's enchanted comedy "Where the Heart Is" sings the praises of hearth and home (12/14/98) R E C E N T_. M U S I C Sharps & Flats Reviews of new CDs by the Royal Philharmonic, Afghan Whigs and Geoff Muldaur, and of a live performance by Billy Bragg (12/09/98) Back in white By David Bowman An appreciation of "The White Album" at 30 (12/08/98) Sharps & Flats Reviews of new CDs by Pearl Jam, Sandra Bernhard and the Silos (12/02/98) Sharps & Flats Reviews of new CDs by Jewel, Roberto Alagna and Angela Gheorghiu, John Lennon and others (11/18/98) Sharps & Flats Reviews of new CDs by Beck, Seal and Alanis Morissette (11/11/98) BROWSE THE MUSIC ARCHIVES COLUMNS FEATURES REVIEWS INTERVIEWS

WHAT'S SO FUNNY ABOUT PEACE, LOVE AND UNDERSTANDING? | PAGE 1, 2 - - - - - - - - - - Norway, it seems, is an irony-free zone, which may be why the Nobel Peace Prize is bestowed there. Few non-Norwegians could stay as straight-faced as host Ase Kleveland (apparently Norway's homegrown version of Joan Baez) did while delivering pious platitudes like "the prize is a flickering flame of hope in the violent darkness" -- especially given the failed efforts of recent Nobel Peace Prize laureates, including, sadly, Hume and Trimble. But it must be even harder to utter such platitudes while introducing dopey pop stars who sing mostly stupid songs about sex. Possibly the worst offenders of decorum were the Cranberries, who opened the concert by unabashedly plugging their upcoming LP. The Cranberries are a surprisingly apolitical band, unless you think of the lovelorn lyrics of songs like "Dreams" and the new "Promises" as a kind of Big Picture take on the Betrayal and Unease of Being Irish. That, however, was a bigger leap of faith than I was willing to make, especially when confronted with Dolores O'Riordan in an itty-bitty gold tank top, leather pants and one of those faux fur coats à la "Velvet Goldmine." But the lyrics to "Dreams" ("And Oh my dreams, it's never quiet as it seems") did remind me of Trimble's somewhat dark and pessimistic acceptance speech, in which he pointed out that the peace process in Ireland is a long way from being enacted: "[That doesn't mean that] I don't have dreams -- I do -- but I try to have them at night." The pragmatic Trimble, unswayed by the sappy romantic idealism of Nobelliousness, was probably not the proper audience for the pop fluffiness that followed -- particularly the next act, gorgeous Norwegian boy-toy Espen Lind. He sang a song called "Pop From Hell" that was equal parts Bauhaus and Ace of Base. After him, however, the concert became increasingly sentimental. First James Galway and Phil Coultier did "Danny Boy" (which they also performed at the acceptance ceremony). They were followed by Twain, who's ultra-glamorous version of new country music is just about as far from real country as real country is from the 17th century Irish folk music from which it evolved. I saw a review in the Norwegian paper the next day that referred to Twain as "plastikkdame," a word that doesn't really require translation. Nevertheless, her rendition of "You're Still the One I Want" was pretty moving; having been worked over by Kleveland and an endless slide show of Belfast terrors, I got all choked up during lines like, "They said we'd never make it/but look how far we've made it." Enrique Iglesias, the Shania Twain of Latin America, was equally fabulous, especially the way he made the words "por favor" last for 15 syllables. Collins, accompanied by a slide show of homeless people, sang two of his "socially conscious" songs, "Both Sides of the Story" and "Another Day in Paradise" -- and even that didn't make me nauseous. Numerous Nobel laureates addressed the crowd via video. A bunch of young schoolgirls sang "O Come All Ye Faithful" directly to Hume and Trimble, who stood awkwardly in front of them with their hands clasped, looking like they hated life. Presently, Bono came on the video screen to tell us he felt "blessed" that the Nobel Peace Prize went to Hume and Trimble, and that "for the first time in years in Ireland, it feels like the future is more vivid than the past." A-Ha came on next and rocked my world, and finally Morissette closed the show with "Baba," "Uninvited" and "Thank U." As had been the case with Twain's performance, here Morrisette's songs were infused with deeper meaning. "How 'bout not blaming you for everything? How 'bout finally forgiving?" she sang, staring straight at Hume and Trimble. "Thank you terror. Thank you disillusionment. Thank you clarity. Thank you frailty. Thank you consequence ..." In a single, pure moment, pop idiocy rose right above rhetoric, and somehow it all made sense. SALON | Dec. 15, 1998 Gina Arnold is a frequent contributor to Salon.