Magna 'Tude

Magnapop proves that spirited pop can pack a serious punch

by Ann Powers

The women of Magnapop don't have much time for casual talk right now. With the pop-wise band's third album, Rubbing Doesn't Help, causing a stir on college radio, guitarist Ruthie Morris and singer Linda Hopper are understandably wrapped up in their sudden career leap. But they are always willing to pause for serious discussion.

"Let me throw something out," says Morris, leaning forward in her chair in the sculpture garden at New York's Museum of Modern Art. "Woody Harrelson."

"Blech!" exclaims Hopper. "I go more for the Harvey Keitel type - intelligent. Pretty on the inside."

"I saw Harrelson on TV the other day," counters Morris. "And let me tell you, he looked good in those shorts." She leans back, her case made. "You can't beat a tight butt."

This offhand conversation succinctly illustrates the dynamic that drives Magnapop. Soundwise, the quartet is a savory-sweet combination of cutting punk rhythms and tuneful, wistful melodies. And the songs gain depth from the lovingly scrappy relationship between guitarist Morris and vocalist Hopper.

"I like femininity," says Hopper, whose intimate singing style gives Magnapop's songs their warmth.

"I like how men keep it a little more controlled," counters Morris, whose switchblade-sharp guitar playing gives the band its hyper verve. "I hate it when women get emotional. It's a drag."

The arty girl and the tomboy found each other in Atlanta eight years ago, after Hopper had left Athens, where she'd played in bands with Matthew Sweet and Michael Stipe's sister, Lynda. Hopper and Morris recorded some demos with bassist Shannon Mulvaney and drummer David McNair, eventually releasing their first album in 1991. 1994's Hot Boxing, with Bob Mould behind the boards, got the group national attention, but Hopper and Morris agree Rubbing presents Magnapop in full flower.

With a new drummer, the super-solid Mark Posgay, Morris has more room to play the daredevil on guitar. And Hopper's imagistic lyrics are now more direct. That's why the single "Open The Door" - with it's zinger of a first line, "Everything is good these days, but all of my friends are dying" - has such impact.

Parting with McNair, moving from Georgia to Los Angeles, and surviving some deaths close to home have left both Morris and Hopper shaky, but determined to do more than survive. "I've been through a period of time where I thought, is the pain of life worth it?" says Hopper. "And - it is." On this, the two unlikely pals completely agree.