Pitchfork

Dot Allison knows people; people like her cuz clubland's paparazzi find her more photogenic than the average gurning disco dolly. She's not just a bobbing nut for trance, you see. She's sensitive; she wears her heart on her sleeve, but manages not to turn daft like so many other eccentric pop stars. She hangs out with former Stone Roses and persuades Hal David to jot down lyrics for her. Like I said, Dot knows people.

Dot Allison knows people cuz she was in a cult band, One Dove, whose only album, Morning Dove White was produced by Primal Scream producer Andrew Weatherall, and at the time of its release in 1993, was tipped to be the follow-up to that band's 1991 record, Screamadelica. Sadly, the bean counters at London Records freaked at the Lee Perry- meets- the Shangri-La's- inna- Neil Young- style album and asked their in-house producers to de-freak the disc and give the label some radio hits, fercryssake!

Fortunately, bootleg copies of the Weatherall mix made it out and a very self- satisfied select few got to bask it the radiance of the real Morning Dove White. Underworld got the remixing gig for One Dove's "Why Don't You Take Me?" and they turned over a stomper easily as bangin' as their own "Born Slippy." Soon, One Dove dissolved and Allison turned to becoming a Sarah Cracknell- like girl about town. And though Afterglow doesn't suffer from the vacuity of the Saint Etienne vocalist's 1997 solo effort, Lipslide, it's definitely no masterwork.

Because she knows people, Dot Allison's persuaded some talented folks to spend some time with her in the studio. Ex-Stone Rose bass player, Mani, guests on "Colour Me" and, as I mentioned, Hal David scribbled down the lyrics to the insipid "Did I Imagine You?" Kevin Shields even comes out of his seclusion to rough up "Message Personal" with his trademark guitar scuffs. Regardless, the resulting songs don't have the spark or the vitality to even to approach a glow, let alone get to the post- awe afterglow. Here's a case in point: "I Wanna Feel the Chill" samples a skeletal guitar figure from Tim Buckley's spectral 1968 live LP, Dream Letter. The appropriately chilling sample is offset with too delicate ambient padding and overly reverent rhythm programming. This coffee table air is nowhere more oppressive than on "Did I Imagine You?" with its uptight string section and multi- tracked la- la- las. As for percussion, it's cautious, faint and distracting. It sounds like someone's practicing for their second tabla lesson.

Lest you get the impression that this album is saturated with syrupy dreck, I must congratulate all concerned for "Tomorrow Never Comes." 52- year-old guitar wiz B.J. Cole, fresh from his collaborations with Luke Vibert, lays down his trademark lazy pedal steel line. His prairie weeping offsets the low- slung funk of the rhythm section. Allison's vocals on this track sound sincere and directed, rather than just an adjunct to her illustrious guests' proficiency.

Afterglow is awkward and sadly, a disappointment for those of us that hoped for the competence of her earlier material. I don't blame Allison for not making a superb record because she's attempting kind of a difficult maneuver-- she's trying to fuse post- club come down ambiance with a singer/ songwriter vibe. But without the immediacy and filterless Gitanes chic of Beth Gibbons' voice and Portishead's mastery of the studio, Allison misses the target too often. Afterglow hopes you'll read the guest list and be impressed. That method might work when Dot's assessing which club to grace her presence with, but music fans might be searching for a bit more substance when it comes to her records.