are burdened by their instrumentation. When there is spark—as during the opening bars of the break in "Pretty Princess"—it's extinguished by the band's repetitiousness.

As songwriters, Loggins and Messina are also working below their abilities—"Boogie Man," "Wasting Our Time" and "Sweet Marie" are inferior songs. Were it shortened, "Pretty Princess" would be effective; the title song, with its haunting verses and a lowkeyed, sensitive vocal by Loggins, is the only one here that captures the spirit of this duo's best music. But two songs do not an album make. "It's Alright" (one of two "message" songs) begins with a partial reading of the preamble to the Constitution, then degenerates to point out various injustices that the American system heaps upon its citizens ("Old granddad's grateful for his social security/You won't be seeing him beg/The only trouble is/His diet of dog food has got him lifting his leg") before providing foolish cures to these ailments in the choruses, each of which begins with the line, "And I guess it's alright ..."

In the past, even if a song were weak lyrically, Loggins and Messina made up for it by the sheer exuberance of their deliveries. The melodies were often strong, the musicians played with an endearing vitality and everyone seemed to be having a good time; that spirit was infectious. Such qualities are missing now. Aside from the compositional shortcomings of Native Sons, the majority of the vocals betray Loggins and Messina's detachment from their material. (RS 210)

DAVID MCGEE