Which is why Massive Attack's second album Protection is routinely overlooked.  Released in 1994, a lot had changed in the three years since Blue Lines, most notably the hysteria over “Britpop” in the British press.  Bands like Oasis, Blur, Suede, The Verve, and Pulp dominated the headlines of the NME (England's premiere music mag) with the whole sex, drugs, and rock n' roll bit.  Well, mostly the rivalry between Blur and Oasis dominated the headlines, but the other guitar bands enjoyed devoted followings and critical successes that have permanently left their mark on today's indie pop/rock scene.

Protection was by no means a commercial failure.  It peaked at #4 on the U.K. charts, and the title song, graced with the divine vocals of Tracey Thorn, was a genuine hit.  The album boasts an impressive guest list of artists-famed producers Mark “Spike” Stent (U2) and Nelle Hooper (Bjork) are all over the album, while Horace Andy and Tracey Thorn both contribute vocals and compositions.  Even a young Nick Warren sits in at the mixing board.   And while it's initial impact was considerably weaker than its groundbreaking predecessor’s, history has been kind to Massive Attack's second offering.  Rolling Stone placed it on a list of ten of the “coolest” recordings of all time, thanks in large part to songs like “Karmacoma” and “Eurochild,” both hypnotic contributions from Tricky. 

The album's greatest success, however, is its warm, cinematic production.  The group manages to assemble all of the musical styles on the album into one soft, looping, druggy, sensual dream.  From the reggae-tinged “Spying Glass,” the dub-heavy “Three,” to the Debussyesque “Weather Storm,”  the album eases you through a world of rain-slicked streets, snow falling past street lamps, seedy bars, and looming cityscapes.  The slow, steady beats are tucked carefully under layers of reverb, buoying the tracks rather than assaulting them (one way of the ways trip-hop operates differently from hip-hop).  Two of the tracks, “Weather Storm” and “Heat Miser,” are delicate electronic instrumentals, and the rest of the album might as well be.  Even when it ventures into hip-hop, as it does on “Eurochild,” it's all atmosphere.  Tricky doesn't rap so much as breathe his tale of cultural and ethnic alienation into the mic, just barely lending his clipped accent to the unfolding noir universe.  It hardly matters what he’s saying, though once you hear him think “I seem to need a reference to get residence” or “I walk in the bar and immediately I sense danger/You look at me, girl, as if I was some kind of a total stranger,” it never leaves you.  It's the best song on the album, showcasing the group’s exotic, melting-pot appeal, as well as state-of-the-art production.       

Most trip-hop fans agree that this kind of music is excellent driving music, especially at night-a point I myself have made ad nauseam.  The pacing of the album and the brooding, contemplative nature of the songs makes for compelling night music; since you have to drive everywhere you go in Maine, and pretty soon it's going to be dark by 5 p.m., Protection should enjoy heavy circulation in your iPod or disc player this fall and winter.