zwan wants to be your life. they appeal to those who sewed new order patches on their backpacks, carried gladioli in their back pocket, or wore their fringe like roger mcguinn's. it's music for people whose only defense from a bitter world is a pair of headphones. their timing couldn't be better: when was the last time that a rock band emerged that was lovable? the pumpkins? (zwan may be an album-length apologia to those early fans who were lost along the way; billy admitting that, yeah, it all did get a bit crackers near the end.) the pixies? well, zwan has a girl who plays bass and sings sweet harmonies. base covered. open the jewel case and you probably won't be surprised to find stickers; thus is their devotion to the cause.

zwan's music is suffused with the idea of beginnings. beginning of what? life and love and all of that, whether it's for the first time or for the next time. ultimately, they're the type of band who really want to make a song called "baby, let's rock!" work, and if they fail they can take solace in knowing no one else has made it work either, and marc bolan is dead and little richard, officially retired.

are they any good? i dunno.