The dearth of memorable melodies ruins the once-successful formula.

Unfortunately, A Day Without Rain, Enya's first new studio album in five years, lacks the edge that could pry it loose from the New Age niche. The Irish traditional music Enya performed so skillfully in the early 1980s with Clannad has by now largely disappeared in a mélange of sly, Celtic-flavored pop hooks and muddled mysticism. The only mystery is why it took her so long to come up with something so short (under 35 minutes) -- and, in many spots, so uninspired.

It sounds like she couldn't care less if anyone's listening.

Ultimately, the four-on-the-floor rhythm and riffing quickly become repetitive, blunting Get Ready's impact.

Fizzy but numbingly predictable.... The delightful element of surprise occasioned by Martin's breakthrough English-language debut has been replaced by a formula-milking attempt to replicate its track record. This is particularly disappointing, since in concert Martin stirs things up by doing more than nodding to his roots.

It's ironic that for all of his intelligence, passion and obvious talent, Canibus chose to stoop to the caveman mentality so apparent on this release.

Van Helden continues to battle being pigeonholed by throwing disparate musical elements into the mix; unfortunately, the resulting musical tapestry is uneven.

Ween are at their best when they either dive headlong into ridiculousness or play it totally straight (admittedly, they don't do the latter very often). Here, however, they walk a rickety platform between those extremes and frequently fall into the ironizer's pit.

Would this band be getting so much attention if Keanu Reeves wasn't the bass player? Of course not. Do they stink? No. Are they any good? Maybe.

Like a legion of goths before them, singer Jason Miller and Manson have many of the same obsessions: the death of God, suicide, the return of God, the slow descent into hell and icky piles of dirt. In Godhead's case, all of that terrain is covered in just the album's opening track, the NIN-meets-New Order new wave rocker "The Reckoning."

While the album stays true to the group's legacy of alcohol-themed, head-nodding party anthems, it falls short by schematically aping other artists' music.

For the most part, the seven new tracks on The First of the Microbe Hunters, which is technically an EP, feel all too similar to last year's Cobra Phases Group Play Voltage in the Milky Night...

Yes, this is their "mature" album, the one where the once effervescent combo that could be counted on for enough hooky innuendoes to excite pre-teen girls and dirty young men alike aspire toward some sort of longer-lasting pop relevance. Which translates here into ballads and a huge dose of R&B-lite. It all sounds very professional, though only a hardcore fan can deny that the bloom is definitely off the rose.

It's too lightweight and silly to appeal to those looking for musical innovation, and the songs aren't focused or fully developed enough to grab new fans. Mostly, it's just a really annoying album.

Overall, though, this is one of those odd little albums that the ever-prolific Young comes up with periodically -- dotted with a few flashes of inspiration, ultimately sunk by a lot of by-rote artistic adequacy.