Waking Up the Neighbours (1991)

I have some teenage friends in Washington State whose idea of a good time is standing at the Canadian border and yelling ''get a culture'' at the motorists on the other side. Surely Ontario's Bryan Adams should take their advice. He's made a profitable career of culling American music for the easiest of its hard-rock clichés, most recently with his triple-platinum song from Robin Hood, ''(Everything I Do) I Do It for You).'' Adams' first studio LP in four years, the incredibly tuneful Waking Up the Neighbours, uses every surefire hit-single formula known to mankind, but it's so smooth it lacks all personality. And, except on his recent big hit, Adams is startlingly unromantic. He has all the soul of a sentimental green cheese. A typical chorus goes ''I'm not guilty, cross my heart'' — as if love were a crime, with the lady at fault, of course. He whines at one point, ''Do I have to tell the truth?'' And on the worst offender, ''Hey Honey, I'm Packin' You In,'' he complains about every single aspect of his live-in love, including her cooking — and then blames her for his having gained weight. What a creep! B-