The Dandy Warhols

Portland, Ore.'s the Dandy Warhols have always seemed cooler than most bands. They're the type of kids whose wiry, expensive haircuts look effortless, their tight, ironic T-shirts perfectly snug. On their breakthrough record, Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia, when singer Courtney Taylor told a love interest to come into his work, "If you dig on vegan food/ I'll have 'em cook you something/ That you'll really love," you both hated and envied him for his ability to pull off such a nonchalant pickup line. That record, with its anthemic, sugarcoated alternapop, won the hearts of mainstreamers and indie purists alike. The future looked promising.

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• Courtney Taylor
• Portland (Oregon)
• The Dandy Warhols
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Enter Welcome to the Monkey House, an utterly drab attempt to stay cutting edge and maintain hipster moxie. Taylor has apparently traded the vegan food for a steady diet of chamomile tea and disco. Amidst tired drum machines, sappy guitar strums, and gurgling synthesizers, all 13 songs simply retread old melodies and spout choruses that consist of nothing but unspecific nostalgia. On "We Used to Be Friends," refrains of "Come on now, honey" are preceded by a narrator bitching about how, well, "We used to be friends." Who is this person he used to be friends with? What happened? As none of this is spelled out in the song, we are free to come to our own conclusions. Perhaps this sedate Monkey House they speak of just isn't as exciting as Urban Bohemia.

In the right context, a lack of lyrical substance is hardly the end of the world. The problem is, something clever, fun, or, at the very least, enthusiastic needs to pick up the slack. There are moments here that seem promising, intros laden with studio trickery that hint at the possibility of tasty crescendos. But, at the end of the day, all we're left with is a zoo full of slumbering primates.