Early in the '90s, the kids (literally - the band members are barely out of their teenage years) who would eventually form "Muse" turned their backs on the Britpop ruling their native England, and started listening to the faux-progressive strains of Radiohead, and the harsher tones of grunge gods Nirvana. In creating their debut album for Maverick Records ten years later, it seems like they've melted the two influences into one, a sort of progressive grunge-fest. Sounds oxymoronic, and the two styles do end up clashing on a few occasions, but the final result isn't as bad as the description might lead one to believe. That's partly because the "Radiohead" influence is more pronounced (for the most part) in the musical aspect of the band - indeed, on a few tracks, it wouldn't be too hard to imagine that you were actually listening to unreleased Radiohead tracks. The fury and angst that Nirvana brought to the table is abundantly represented, however, and reflected largely in "Muse's" lyrical content. The grunge aspect isn't totally sublimated in the music, though its trademark soft verse/explosive chorus mix is a feature of many songs on "Showbiz," sometimes to the detriment of potentially interesting musical ideas introduced in those verses.

The album opens with "Sunburn," with its verses delivered in lovely space-age keyboard and drum duet, enhanced by Chris Wolstenholme's simple bassline. Vocalist/guitarist Matthew Bellamy chimes in with soft vocals that belie the message, "Another corporate show/ And I feel the guilty conscience grow." The choruses may well be referring to the lure of success, as represented by the hated corporate behemoth contract, "She burns like the sun/ I can't look away/ She'll burn our horizons/ Make no mistake." Delivered in a guitar and bass explosion, with Dominic Howard pounding out a driving beat on his kit underneath, the chorus sets an anti-corporate theme that is repeated elsewhere on "Showbiz," as well as introducing listeners to the lyrical bitterness and venom that is spilled in abundance later on.

"Fillip" partially reverses the trend, offering a crashing, layered introduction, before settling down into a semi-classic rock vibe (think Cheap Trick in the '70s). Then, when you think you've got the song figured out, "Muse" changes direction for an almost operatic passage, before pulling out all the stops for the finale. These guys even have some ethnic touches going on in the backgrounds of a few songs. "Uno" has a tango swing highlighting a resigned, uncaring rant against a former friend, "You mean nothing to me/ And this means nothing to me/ And it means nothing to me/ That you blew this away." Elsewhere, Bellamy whips out his best Freddie Mercury impression, employing a falsetto in the Queen-like songs, "Falling Down" and "Unintended." He keeps the falsetto in check on those tunes, among my favorite on the album. The same can't be said for the title track, "Showbiz." Except for a few moments of unrestrained vocal histrionics at the end, it might have been the best song on the disc. The urgency underlying the polemic about the demands made on an artist is almost electrifying, with Bellamy carrying on about "unnamed forces, pushing myself towards self-destruction/ They make me scream the screams." Unfortunately, he had to underline those sentiments by howling over the song's high-volume closing section.

Fans might point to that, and a couple of other sections on "Showbiz" as proof of the absolute passion Bellamy puts into the music. Detractors would say he tried for what he probably believed to be a soul-baring scream and managed only an ear-bending, cringe-worthy, fingers-on-a-chalkboard dog whistle.

Bellamy's got a decent voice, but, in a few instances, he attempts to push it in directions it absolutely shouldn't go. Despite these moments, "Muse" has a lot of good things going on "Showbiz," and it's the kind of music that could really hit it big with the grunge crowd, or others looking for something that is different without being TOO adventuresome. If the band doesn't choke on its own angst, you might be hearing about "Muse" for a few years to come.