So this is how the pop music of the Nineties ends -- not with the angst and intellect of the grunge sound that most reviewers say defined the decade, but with a gloriously vapid hunkaroo who's a lock for the gold medal if ass-waving is ever made an Olympic sport. Yeah, Rage Against the Machine had the best-selling album in America when Ricky Martin hit town on November 28, but Rage barely filled the mid-sized Denver Coliseum four days earlier, while the Rickster absolutely jammed the much larger Pepsi Center with a rainbow coalition of the young and the old, the straight and the gay, the blandly Caucasian and the ethnically diverse. On today's entertainment landscape, silliness sells, and by that standard, Martin is (apologies to James Cameron) the... More >>>