Daniel Lanois' sweet nothings

Daniel Lanois' sweet nothings

Daniel Lanois. Here Is What Is. Red Floor Records

Daniel Lanois' music doesn't state. It suggests.

Everything about it has a sense of implication. Pings of guitar and gurgles of synthesizer dominate the sound. They're small sonic brush strokes, calling to mind an impressionist painting of a mirage.

Suited to so muted a style, Lanois insists on whispering his songs, singing in the voice of a sensual confidant, as if you alone have been allowed to listen.

For all these reasons, Lanois can seem profound, even when he's being slight. It doesn't hurt in the inflation that he ranks as one of the most important producers of the last 20 years, a reputation earned by his seminal work with U2, Eno, Peter Gabriel and Bob Dylan.

Yet on his sixth solo album, out today, Lanois' airy gestures often seem more like highbrow shtick. We've heard all these tricks before, and in finer form, on earlier works.

In a way, the recycling makes sense. The music on "Here Is What Is" accompanies a like-titled, self-financed documentary in which Lanois explains his basic muse and art. Sound bites from the film dot the CD, including quotes from Brian Eno, who's presented as the Guru of All Time. It's a wonder he's not introduced with a voiceover intoning, "Oh Great One, tell us how you became so wondrous a god."

Essentially, "What Is" offers 18 snippets of songs, vignettes ranging from small piano or guitar instrumentals to short ballads. They're all languid and intimate. Sounds ooze: Basses trickle, guitars trace. Some pieces seem as much incantations as songs. At their worst, they feel like atmospheres in search of solid form.

There's some beauty to be had here. Lanois' use of the pedal steel guitar remains unique. It's not a typical country sound. His playing has its own liquid weep. It's a fine sliver of sound.

But such things have come to seem like formula, especially since they've been performed so much better on Lanois' perfect 1989 debut, "Acadie," and its gracious followup, "For the Beauty of Wynona."

Only in the final cut, "Luna Samba," does Lanois offer something rare: a jazzy jam with aggressive guitar, assertive bass and a Brazilian drum. He should try rocking out more often.