A rather complacent set of radio-ready lite alt-rock.

Shelve this one next to that Adam Sandler CD you haven't listened to in four years.

Ed Kowalczyk and crew burden their sound with angry guitars, pseudoraps and needless swearing torn straight outta the Fred Durst book of lyric writing.

She throws so much sparkle, shine and, yes, glitter at us that even tracks about her friend's suicide and her recent breakup are as glossy as her latest publicity shot.

Unlike previous albums, The Altogether doesn't really take the listener on some mind-altering trip. It simply throws together some half-baked novelties, some wasted and underwhelming guest appearances and a bunch of rhythmic ideas that would have sounded infinitely better a decade ago.

After too many calls for the end of humanity and playing the Satan card a few times, all the yelling becomes little more than a humorless joke.

His backing band's heavy-metal veering leans toward the generic. Only the Igster's sometimes fierce (but fading) yowl adds enough soul--and insanity--to make them at least momentarily credible.

But once those fleeting, producer-driven thrills die down, the remainder of the album takes a middle-of-the-road, midtempo stance that goes from covering her age issues on "17" to getting downright silly and insipid about looove with "Saturate Me."

This sub-par group's darker efforts to push society's hot buttons and dis others are ultimately more silly than sinister.

While this sounds mostly like incomplete leftovers, there are a few tasty treats: The lonely guitar of "Knives Out," that dirty beat pulsating under "Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors" and the hypnotic body-ponging of "I Might Be Wrong."

Nearly missing are the charming sax and violin song augmentations. Gone are the tunes that are too long but always find their way back. And gone is some of Matthew's long-faced songwriting personality--now all gussied up in a swirl of quick hits, easy ballads and electric guitar.