Bloc Party

Apocalyptic musings and social commentary ripped from the headlines: You'd think this was an opinion piece for The Sun, not a Bloc Party album. Weekend explores a range of topics -- from societal fear and political power to cocaine use and homosexuality -- with tweaked-out beats, wrenching guitars and Kele Okereke's cockney yelp. Some of the album's best moments are its most cinematic; with looming tempos and churning bass lines, songs like "Waiting for the 7.18," "On" and "Srxt" could soundtrack the thumping footsteps of a film's hero as she sprints to save a doomed world.

Many second-level pop stars have looked dumber agonizing over their own success than Kele Okereke. But however obsessed he may be with the celebrity fleshpots he frequents so unhappily on the lead cut, they remain a cliche to which he adds nothing, including a decent tune. Elsewhere he bemoans his inability to love, and so it goes. Okereke is singing with size and emotion, and producer Jacknife Lee noises things up nicely. But Bloc Party's beaty songcraft was never as intrinsically attractive as their multiracial image, and though the new bunch are sharply executed, they cry out for killer choruses now that they're not just outcries of generational frustration. The terrorist paranoia meditation "Hunting for Witches" is brought home by such a chorus, as is the strung-out "Sunday." But too often Okereke relies on his celebrity and production budget to make us listen. He should ask Brandon Flowers--this doesn't work. (Grade - ***)