"FORTH" BY THE VERVE; ON YOUR OWN

It's been 11 years since British band The Verve released its last studio album, 1997's emotional "Urban Hymns," and unleashed its hit anthem "Bitter Sweet Symphony" onto the world.

Then, in 1999, the band broke up.

"Forth," the rock group's first album since reuniting last year, is a musical conundrum — a slight return to form but also horribly meandering.

Lead singer Richard Ashcroft, who jumped into a solo career post-Verve, and talented guitarist Nick McCabe, whose tensions with Ashcroft have been well documented, are back with 10 tracks that ricochet from catchy indulgence to plodding balladry.

The album's first four songs, from the melodically rocking "I Sit and Wonder" to the dance-centric "Love is Noise" and soulful "Rather Be," are a reminder The Verve can churn out worthy tunes.

However, later songs such as "Numbness" induce just that. "I See Houses," trudging along on a piano refrain, and "Columbo" are aimlessly experimental. The album's lyrics overall succumb to a litany of cliches.

"Feelings / Only feelings / Just let 'em, let 'em go," Ashcroft croons on "Judas," an otherwise satisfyingly atmospheric number.

— Solvej Schou, Associated Press

"INTIMACY" BY BLOC PARTY; ATLANTIC RECORDS

Of all the important things that the London post-punk outfit Bloc Party tried to do on its sophomore album, "A Weekend in the City" — confronting urban malaise, burgeoning sexual identity and the second-generation British immigrant experience among them — the one thing singer Kele Okereke forgot was to be funny.

Sure, Bloc Party won the 2005 dance-rock sweepstakes on its soaring choruses and Okereke's earnest love pangs. But its third album, "Intimacy," released digitally, introduces a new instrument: the well-timed zinger. Take the glitched-up, nearly guitar-less lead single, "Mercury," which snidely promises that "In any part of the world / from Silver Lake to Williamsburg / you can pick another stranger and fall in love."

This vicious playfulness extends to the music as well, which trims off the magisterial excesses of "Weekend" while keeping the band's recent noisy electronica crush intact. "Zephyrus" is essentially a groaning dubstep tune, and "Trojan Horse" shreds a typical single-string guitar melody in a bank of overdriven filters.

Fans awaiting another floor-filler like "Banquet" won't find it here, as the album is melodic without being hugely tuneful.

— August Brown, Los Angeles Times