The Spice Girls are the Chinese food of pop, and maybe that's not such a terrible thing. (They did sound slightly better when I listened while eating my cashew chicken.) Hipsters walk around asking each other, "Who are the people buying these bazillions of Spice Girl records? I never met one." But as the Spice's own press release says, "whether you like 'em, love 'em, or prefer less spicy dishes" the Spice girls have managed to hit some sort of a nerve.

There's something for everyone and nothing for anyone on this sophomore effort, the Spice Girls' second U.S. release in one year. In the true tradition of appealing to the lowest common denominator – and probably an effort to "market" to a diverse worldwide audience -- the album contains a confusing and somewhat contrived sampling of all types of music dressed up in an international disco beat. You like Miami-flavored salsa? Put on your Lambada shoes and crank up "Spice Up Your Life." You into that old Motown sound? Check out "Stop," complete with some well-played trumpet hits at the beginning. Say you're in the mood for an R&B ballad? No problem: "Too Much" will satisfy your demographically tested itch.

This album approaches competent. It is hooky. The musicianship is better then on hundreds of alternative albums. And if you can ignore lyrics like "Slam it to the left if you're having a good time/Shake it to the right if you know that you feel fine," then maybe you won't hate Spiceworld. (Was it really necessary to print the lyrics on the CD jacket?)

But the ultimate irony is that Spiceworld lacks any real spice. The girls look good on the album cover, though.

-- Jay Blumenfield