Producers: Jon Brion, Pierre Marchand, Van Dyke Parks.

Personnel: Rufus Wainwright (acoustic guitar, piano); Benmont Tench (keyboards); Jim Keltner (drums).

Audio Mixers: Pierre Marchand; Bob Clearmountain.

Recording information: Med; Ocean Way Three & Seven; Sunset sound; Sunset sound Factory; Wildsky Studio, Morin Heights, Quebec, Canada.

What separates Rufus Wainwright and the other second-generation singers who sprang up at the same time (Sean Lennon, Emma Townshend, and Chris Stills the most notable among them) is that Wainwright deserves to be heard regardless of his family tree; in fact, the issue of his parentage is ultimately as immaterial as that of his sexuality -- this self-titled debut cares little for the rock clichés of an earlier generation, instead heralding the arrival of a unique and compelling voice steeped most solidly in the traditions of cabaret. Like his folks, Loudon Wainwright III and Kate McGarrigle, he's a superb songwriter, with a knack for elegantly rolling piano melodies and poignantly romantic lyrics; while the appearance of Van Dyke Parks and his trademark orchestral arrangements hints at an affinity for the pop classicism of Brian Wilson or Randy Newman, the vocals come straight out of opera, and although Wainwright is unlikely to be starring in La Boheme anytime soon, he conveys the kind of honest emotion sorely lacking in the ironic posing of many of his contemporaries. Maybe the kids are alright after all. ~ Jason Ankeny

In 1998, the music industry was inundated with recordings by the offspring of '60s and '70s icons. Chris Stills, Sean Lennon, Emma Townshend; nepotism ran unchecked, with varying degrees of aesthetic and commercial success. Rufus Wainwright, scion of acerbic singer/songwriter Loudon Wainwright and Canadian songstress Kate McGarrigle, may share a nasal vocal drawl with his father, but the songs here are closer to Brian Wilson, Randy Newman or Harry Nilsson than Loudon or Kate. The Newman/Wilson connection is underlined by the skewed, neo-Baroque string arrangements and co-production of Van Dyke Parks, whose sensibility seems to mesh perfectly with Wainwright's piano-based tunes.

Wainwright's debut finds him exercising considerable harmonic and compositional chops in the service of a vision that's closer in spirit to some of the eccentric, decidedly non-rock singer-songwriters of the early '70s (like those mentioned above) than anything current. His gift for the extended melodic line serves him well here. Lyrically, Wainwright is able to combine unsentimental passion with unpretentious imagery; no mean feat, even for veteran troubadours. This recording, substantive and rewarding as it is, portends a bright future.