To say The Kooks’ Junk of the Heart is bad would certainly be unfair, though it manages to inspire a feeling some musicians actually fear more than a truly negative review; indifference. In fact, soon after the opening title track kicks in, so does an almost immediate amnesia.

After thoroughly enjoying the debut album, Inside In/Inside Out, I really felt The Kooks were my kind of band. Often times it’s an endearing quality when a band doesn’t take itself too seriously, and just hits the studio hoping to have a good time. On Junk of the Heart, however, The Kooks prove that the line between not taking yourself too seriously and not really trying at all is distinct, and that as a band they have most certainly lostsight of it.

But let’s get back to the title track, also referred to as Happy. Straight off the bat the paucity of depth is evident and applies not only to Luke Pritchard’s lyrics, but goes well beyond into other musical elements like melodies, guitar riffs, and an uninspired combination of percussion and bass. Hey, this is supposed to be the first single, an insight into what to expect from the entire album.

If I thought for a moment that I had over-generalised, The Kooks proved me wrong, for then came the next track.

Granted on How’d You Like That the band is somewhat more inventive with the actual music, but the vocals amount to little beyond Pritchard experiencing a pre-pubescent cracking in his voice, before resorting to chanting the song’s chorus line repeatedly, without any sign of inspiration. Only two songs in, and I’ve actually forgotten there’s music playing on my stereo.

Let’s skip forward a bit.

Taking Pictures of You is a track where an already simplistic band takes minimalism further still. This in itself isn’t necessarily a bad thing, until you realise that without a particular factor of the song illuminated — be it the band’s cohesion, a particularly soulful melody, or even a good ol’ guitar solo — minimalism simply comes across as apathy.

Songs from the debut album, like She Moves in Her Own Way, are tunes that I still find myself singing and humming (against the pleas of all those around me) years after the album was released.

Yet another tune, Seaside shone as a result of Pritchard’s delivery, one that practically makes your heart ache, despite the simplicity in his lyrics (or perhaps in part because of that). By the time Time above the Earth kicks in, the only thing aching is my stomach. The song is a rather sad attempt at depth; with violins being the only element of this barely two-minute tune. Frankly, the string arrangement is a cop out, one of many on an album the Kooks have more or less phoned in.

Frankly, waiting is what you spend most of the album doing. Waiting for The Kooks to sing a beautiful love song like One Last Time, or to have them inspire you into singing along with Always Where I need to Be. But the days when you listened, really listened, to The Kooks seem to be behind us.

The closest they come to evoking any of these past feelings is Eskimo Kiss, a song which may bear a ridiculous name, but has the listener wishing the rest of the album could have been this catchy.

Junk of the Heart is a lesson in how important longevity is when it comes to music.

Asad Khawaja hosts Moonlight Mile Thursdays 10pm to 12 midnight on CityFM89