Following the commercial success of their self-titled junior album, Finger Eleven returned to the music scene in 2007 with twelve brand new tracks from their latest album, Them vs. You vs. Me. The result? A completely unexpected letdown from a band that had been getting stronger and more consistent with every release. The band tries in vain to establish a new identity as they begin to pull-away from their post-grunge roots to a more streamlined sound, which puts more emphasis on melody and less emphasis on the sleek, pumping guitar hooks the band is known for. Long-time fans will be left scratching their heads and wondering who sucked all the life out of Finger Eleven.

To this point, the band had been progressing quite nicely. Greyest of Blue Skies was a dark, brooding album that was also horribly erratic, with a handful of potent tracks counterbalanced by a slew of obvious duds. Far more impressive was the 2003 release Finger Eleven, which broke out with four thundering songs at the onset and then settled into a comfortable groove of skillful hard rock the rest of the way. The band had clearly learned a lot in between the recording of these two albums. The murky atmosphere of Greyest of Blue Skies was largely removed, the hooks were catchier and more abundant, and the production was noticeably better on Finger Eleven.

Them vs. You vs. Me can accurately be described as one of those dreaded albums where the band decides to push their established sound in a new direction, while only retaining a superficial resemblance to their previous work. Except for a select number of songs, Finger Eleven has given their aggressive, moody brand of hard rock the old heave ho. In its place are a plethora of casual, mid tempo songs that feature a lot of crooning from Scott Anderson, soft guitar strumming, and simple song structures. To boil down all my feelings of this album into a single word: blah.

When Paralyzer drops in to open the album, it immediately becomes clear that this CD is going to be different. Even with an infectious lead hook anchoring it, the song has a danceable, vaguely disco-inspired vibe that is sure to please the nightclub masses. Gone is the straightforward, punishing attitude of previous openers like First Time or Other Light. Next up is Falling On, another capable rocker about finding inner strength that utilizes Scott Anderson's enchanting falsetto to maximum effect.

The most obvious first-half blunder is I'll Keep Your Memory Vague. This is a blatant attempt to hold onto the mainstream audience the band gained with their hit single One Thing, which was a mainstay on radio stations in the years after the release of the band's self-titled album. This is a soulless and formulaic radio darling that offers next to no enticing hooks for the listener to grab on to. Things get better in a hurry with the arrival of the album's best showing, Lost My Way. Fans will recognize the classic elements of Finger Eleven here: the emotional, roaring vocals, the punchy guitars and timely percussion. So-So Suicide boasts a lively, squealing hook from guitarist James Black and a grim set of lyrics, "I like that I'm a mess/ I can't stand it much longer/ In my head/ I think it's time for bullets."

Then, all of a sudden, the album comes to a crashing halt.

Window Song is a passive, introspective track that encircles a spine-tingling bridge with more weary strings and tired vocals. Sense of a Spark couldn't be a less fitting description for this directionless bungle of a song. The echoey guitars fail to hook and the abrupt tempo changes make it feel disjointed and clumsily executed. Even more passionless is Talking to the Walls, which is about as exciting as slogging through rush hour traffic. The lyrics to Change the World are like a series cliches strung together, which Anderson admits in the lines, "I won't be sorry if you leave me girl/ 'Cause I'm the world's biggest fan of cliches." Awwwww. That would warm my heart if I hadn't heard the same rhetoric dozens of times from countless other alt-rock bands.

Assuming the listener is even conscious by this point, he or she will need a caffeine binge just to make it through to the album's conclusion. Are you ready for more drowsy mid-tempo rock? If so, Finger Eleven has you covered, with a trio of lifeless tunes to close out the album. Gather and Give is utterly devoid of aggression, relying instead on simple chord structures and monotone vocals to lull the listener back to sleep. Even the title track, Them vs. You vs. Me, can't save this hopeless second half. The pace is stuck in neutral, while Anderson's voice is locked into a familiar drone as his bandmates plod on without the slightest inclination to amp up the volume. Easy Life uncorks a satisfying, crunching guitar riff, but the song veers back and forth between high-energy chorus and sluggish verses. It's an uncomfortable marriage that gives the song an odd schizophrenic quality, which is only made worse by the track's absurd five-minute run time.

It would be charitable to call Them vs. You vs. Me anything more than a tired, dreck of an album from a band that is capable of doing so much more. Finger Eleven largely jettisons the gloomy aggression and intensity so prevalent on their earlier works in favor of dumbed down, laid-back alt-rock. The album's first half is serviceable, with a couple very strong tracks that demand repeat listens. However, the second-half meltdown saps any energy the band had built up earlier. Listeners are left to wonder why Finger Eleven set the cruise control after track five. The only thing worse than listening to a band mail it in, is knowing that you spent fifteen dollars to hear them do it.

Recommended: No