King Missile

John S. Hall wants you to believe he'll be cracking wise when the world ends, an event he once projected for 1992 or 1993, although now that he's on a major he's trying to push the date back. About time, I say--the major, I mean. Hall is completely word-dependent--when his imagination flags second half, so does the album. But it isn't just the consistency of the sarcasm that distinguishes this one. It's the way he's putting his hard-rock comedy, shaggy dog fables, and sophistical sh*t across. Rarely has a performance artist made a more forceful adjustment to guitar-bass-and-drums, or a college-radio band a tuffer adjustment to clean-yet-heavy. Credit indie engineer Lou Giordano for his postindie production, and Atlantic for its venture capital. (Grade: A-)