NakedSelf

The The’s centerpiece and only real member, Matt Johnson, is a hell of a songwriter, but we can’t help wishing he’d crack a smile every so often—he’s been schlepping around with the weight of the world on his shoulders since the early ’80s. On the morbid and gloomy bizarro-pop opus, NakedSelf, the load feels no lighter. His ability to turn just about anything (folk-noir ballads, sloppy electro-blues, atmospheric synth-pop, industrial noise-rock, etc.) into draggy laments about the evils of mankind makes him something of a missing link between Leonard Cohen, the Cure, and Nine Inch Nails. Fine company to keep, provided you’re not suicidally depressed. The hummable, acoustic “Soul Catcher” is as poppy and light-hearted as this gets—and even then, gloomy sentiments like, “My life is halfway through/And I still haven’t done what I’m here to do,” darken the mood considerably. Pop a Prozac before you give it a spin.