Forgive me if I'm the ten-thousandth reviewer to make this observation, but Alkaline Trio's seventh full-length album, Agony and Irony seems rather long on the former and woefully short on the latter. Alkaline Trio belong to an older, less retarded generation of "emo," a generation that wouldn't have looked ridiculous when held up against their punk contemporaries. I've got nothing to hide. I've lived in Chicago my entire life. I owned a copy of "Goddamnit." Many were the hours spent pogoing alone in my dorm to songs ike "Armageddon," "We've Had Enough," and "My Little Needle." Many more hours were spent silently weeping into my pillow and cursing all of woman-kind while listening to "Sorry About That." Alkaline Trio emerged just on the cusp of emo taking a turn toward the mainstream, thanks to breakthrough acts like Jimmy Eat World, At the Drive-In, and (God help us all) Dashboard Confessional. They had plenty of adolescent heart-on-your-sleeve charm, but backed that up with killer hooks and blistering post-hardcore riffs. This talent did not go unnoticed or unappreciated, so the band moved up to progressively bigger labels, from Asian Man to Vagrant to, finally, an honest-to-goodness major, Epic. And the only thing it cost them was every trace of individuality or character.

"Agony and Irony" opens up promisingly enough with "Calling All Skeletons," a hooky, straight-ahead rocker in the classic ALK3 vein; even the handclaps are a nice touch. They maintain momentum through "Help Me" with its stop-and-go chorus riff. The quality begins to drop off rapidly with "In Vein." Purported to be the band's tribute to their loyal fan base, the song sounds alternately like a poor man's attempt at flamenco, a half-hearted '80s arena anthem, and a late '90s-style pop song. It almost holds together, if only it were maybe a minute shorter. Track four is where everything goes to shit. It's a snoozer of a ballad that feels like it drags on and on. The rest of the album ranges from the forgettable ("Do You Wanna Know," "Ruin it") to the downright obnoxious ("Love Love, Kiss Kiss," "Live Young, Die Fast") As with their previous effort, "Crimson," the biggest problem with this album is the production. It's too glossy. The guitars stay where they're supposed to, and Matt Skiba's voice is electronically massaged to prefabricated perfection. The best moments of "Goddamnit" were the ones where Skiba sang waaaaaaaay out of his range, because back in the day, that's what it meant to be emo; you put it all out there whether you were technically capable of doing it or not. There's not a single moment on this album that seems raw or spontaneous.

If you want a taste of some prime Chicago pop punk, check out The Falcon (or better yet, sign up for the Suburban Horror message boards and download it for free). If, however, you're in the mood to hear what it sounds like when a Chicago legend tries to stay hip for the kids, well then "Agony and Irony" is the album for you.