with a single entity. That integration allows for a potential explosiveness which can, utilizing the modern miracle of overdubbing, approach the avalanche intensity of "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'." The vocals appear to have been deliberately trimmed back. If Hall & Oates were a trio, they could give you a letter-perfect reading of most of these tunes sitting on your living room sofa or, presumably, live onstage. Whatever the objective, the outcome, despite the absence of the fiery pomp and magnificence that made "She's Gone" a classic, confirms the notion that these are two of the best (and least recognized) singers of rock.

If you're given to microscopic analysis, you won't have much trouble isolating the components of their style. And the harder you look, the more you find. A song like "Gino" might initially suggest Rundgren's Something/ Anything? period, but closer scrutiny will reveal traces of Steely Dan. You can see a little "Brandy" in "Camellia" when you look past the obvious debt to the Spinners. Yet through it all you get a much stronger idea of where Hall & Oates fit in. You'd be correct in saying that the first side is R&B and the second pop, but you'd also be missing the point: Hall & Oates are a fusion of the two, a goal they're now one step closer to achieving.

The only questionable factor is the mix. The vocals are miles in front, with the music so far in back that it often becomes passive. If your home equipment can't approximate studio playback definition, it's gonna take you awhile longer to get to it. But it's well worth it. Now that Daryl Hall and John Oates have tested their new legs and found them fully operable, they have at their command all the tools necessary to make the next album the masterstroke; this one certainly opens the door for it. (RS 198)

BEN EDMONDS