Spiceworld

11/04/1997 3:00 AM, LAUNCH
Rob O'Connor

You stare into their collective eyes of vapid consumerism and the words come to you: "Oh, mama." They're not even sexy in their underwear and yet some bizarre form of acknowledgment comes forth. You know these girls. They're on your television at all hours, singing those silly rhymes and dancing with all the passion of a Jane Fonda workout. American audiences have to imagine what they look like with their tops off; the rest of the world knows. The girls themselves know profundity. "Shake shake shake haka," they sing during "Spice Up Your Life." You figure the Mafia's gotta be behind this. Or at least the government.

"Lady Is A Vamp" is a boring Sinatra homage, but most of Spiceworld has the sort of grooves any computer programmer with rhythm could assemble. The magic is in the packaging. The way one of them (you know, the fat underpaid one) sings "Wey hey, come on, come on, come on / come on and do it (x2) hey / do it, do it, do it" is pure magic. Homer couldn't have said it better.