Spoon's seventh is a let-down

The best spoon songs grab you immediately, dancing a quickstep on your eardrums and enveloping you in infectious rhythms. They are short, to-the-point and utterly irresistible - indie guitar rock at its finest.

On the group's latest release, "Transference," however, lead singer Britt Daniel isn't only interested in making you tap your feet to the drumbeat. He has heartbreak on his mind, and wants you to feel his pain - for better or worse. The tight, compact tunes of prior albums are replaced by longer, meandering tracks that venture into more experimental territories previously uncharted by the band.

Album opener "Before Destruction" starts things off on a propulsive note, with a catchy drumbeat and droning guitars providing Daniels with the perfect environment in which to wax about a former lover whom everyone loves "for [her] black eye." "Is Love Forever?" continues in this vein, a percussion-heavy ode to an ex-girlfriend.

After these two short-and-sweet tracks, however, the songs grow longer, muting the effectiveness of Daniels' heartbroken moaning. "The Mystery Zone," a place "where your dad's not around," is dulled by its repetitive structure and five-minute running time, as are "Who Makes Your Money," "Written In Reverse" (during which Daniel yelps, "I want to show you how I love you but there's nothing there") and "I Saw the Light" (whose mid-track musical transition into even more repetitive instrumental territory doesn't make up for Daniel's initial insistence that he "saw the light;" one reminder is sufficient).

After the heavy-handed meanderings of its middle section, "Transference" picks up speed again on "Trouble Comes Running," another ode to an ex who, Daniel explains, "was my good luck charm." An infectious drumbeat re-energizes the album (and the beleaguered listener), making up for Daniel's repetitive subject matter.

The tail end of the album drifts off once more as the band piles on the minutes and slows down the rhythms. Daniel continues to put the mope center-stage: "You were the one-two punch," he explains on "Out Go the Lights," and the album closes with a track titled "Nobody Gets Me But You." By the time "Transference" comes to an end, you want to toss Daniel some Percocet and maybe pop a few yourself.

On one hand, it feels like Spoon's adventurism should be applauded; on the other, their explorations beyond guitar rock highlight the absence of their usual catchy melodies. Combine the two, and you get a pretty "meh" album. Spoon both is and isn't exploring new areas, and after listening to Daniel pour out his heart for 45 minutes, you begin to wonder if his moaning couldn't have been distilled to a more concise exploration of his heartbreak.

Pros: Occasionally catchy guitar rock from Austin's finest.