Going into their 15th studio album, R.E.M. have been counted on as the pioneering saviors of the music industry, as well as counted out as a washed-up novelty act by some of those selfsame fans, on many different occasions. And while those disparate opinions have always seemed a bit excessive and premature on both accounts, the band have admirably never let outside expectations or label pressures affect either them or their music throughout their venerable, 30+ year career. But ever since drummer Bill Berry’s departure in 1997, the band has been noticeably spinning its collective wheels a bit musically, while struggling to find a late-period direction that didn’t sound sleepy, derivative, or directionless.

With their new album, Collapse Into Now, R.E.M. look to build on the surge of momentum and acclaim that followed their last effort, the commendable, but still spotty, Accelerate. And, like most of their recent records, this new collection is an uneven mix of both memorable and forgetful moments (occasionally within the same song), that finds the band doing nothing to harm their estimable legacy, but not accomplishing all that much to add to it either.

R.E.M. were a better band when Michael Stipe’s often inscrutable lyrics took on an added air of mystery as they were often mumbled and layered deep within the mix, leaving his voice as yet another effective instrument for the band to manipulate to fit their sprawling sonic designs. Lately, Stipe’s vocals have been featured far too prominently in the mix and are easily decipherable, to an often negative effect, especially on the new record. Rhyming ‘alligator’ with ‘escalator’ is just far too jejune for someone as experienced and talented as Stipe. But if that was his only offense, it could easily be overlooked. However, there are cringeworthy lyrics threaded throughout the whole record: “”I cannot tell a lie. It’s not all cherry pie;” “I feel good and calm like a robot would;” “Hey now, take your pills and hey now, make your breakfast;”“Mine smell like honey, Unhhhh.” It’s all embarrassingly bad grade school poetry, and occurs so frequently on Collapse Into Now that you get the sense that either Stipe isn’t trying or he doesn’t really care.

Musically, the band sound relatively energised and upbeat, but they also sound quite a bit derivative, regularly duplicating familiar elements of R.E.M. songs that we’ve all heard before. ‘Überlin’ prominently echoes the wistful melody and pacing of ‘Drive,’ while ‘Oh My Heart’ is merely ‘Houston’ Part II, and the spoken-word eeriness of ‘Blue’ comes off as a messy combination of ‘E-Bow The Letter’ and ‘Country Feedback.’ Clearly, the band knows what they are doing, but are also acutely aware of what they’ve already done in the past that has worked, and stick far too closely to that successful formula for these songs to sound all that new or inspired.

But the record isn’t all bad, mind you, as ‘Discoverer’ storms out of the gate with an urgency and spirit that has always suited the band well. And ‘All The Best’ has a cocksure arrogance that propels the song dynamically towards its rousing conclusion. But for each confident step forward, the band retreats two steps back to the well-worn ground of their past, churning out R.E.M.-by-the-numbers tracks like ‘It Happened Today’ (with a barely noticeable and ultimately pointless cameo by Eddie Vedder), and ‘Every Day Is Yours To Win,’ which sounds as if the band is as asleep while recording the song as their listeners surely will be after listening to it.

The gorgeous, piano-laden dirge of ‘Walk It Back’ is a clear standout, with the forlorn musical arrangement and Stipe’s remorseful lyrics both awash in deep emotion and raw sincerity. It’s such a lovely number, and stands out strikingly amidst the many missteps featured on the album’s second half. Peaches can’t save (or add much to) the childish mess of ‘Alligator_Aviator_ Autopilot_ Antimatter,’ and from there it just becomes a roll-call of famous influences and celebrities from Stipe’s mental Rolodex, with New Order, Young Marble Giants, Sharon Stone, Al Pacino, and Marlon Brando all getting name-checked awkwardly over the course of just two mediocre songs.

Even though the exalted Patti Smith makes an appearance on the moody spoken-word closer, ‘Blue,’ it still comes off as a bit aimless and unfocused, but at least finds the band taking a bit of a chance, an audaciousness that was sadly lacking throughout much of the album. It must be quite difficult for R.E.M. to continually be compared to themselves, but it also seems to be pretty easy for them to settle into all-too-familiar territories, struggling to not sound too much like themselves while they try hard to offer their fans something new. And while the effort is appreciated by their longtime fans who continue to support them after all these years, it would be nice to hear R.E.M. take some new, bold risks to not only reward us for our dedication but to ultimately keep us fully engaged and interested in them once again.