Poignant in a way that sons of a drug-abusing father who was out of the house plenty even before the divorce should come up with such, er, positive messages. Disgusting in a way that children of pop privilege should luck into the extra sales gimmick of twinhood. And utterly apropos that Rick's boys are _fifth_-generation entertainers--circus, vaudeville, situation comedy, Hollywood rockabilly, and now . . . "dynamic melodic vocal guitar rock." "Stylistically no one's doing what we're doing," Gunnar boasts, and he's right in a way. But what makes them truly unique is that he could just as well claim everyone's doing what they're doing. D+