*1/2

THE SUICIDE MACHINES

(Hollywood)

It's fitting that the Suicide Machines' third disc should be called The Suicide Machines -- taking a kamikaze dive into Blink-182 blandishment, the foursome have traded the frenetic nth-wave ska punk of their previous efforts for a more polished, ostensibly radio-friendly sound. The album's cleaned-up, occasionally catchy singing is undermined by cliché'd lyrics, and the rhythm section has been mixed down from prickly and punchy to oatmeal smooth. Also, guitarist Dan Lukacinsky's predictable pop-punk progressions lack both the standout, hard-rock qualities that have driven radio-punk hits like "When I Come Around" and "In Bloom" and the seductive glass-shard angularity of his earlier playing. And though the TRL-addicted 12-year-olds who lifted Blink-182 out of near-pop purgatory care more about adolescent gags than a band's roots, the tepid humor on The Suicide Machines probably won't win even them over. The cute kindergarten jest of "Sometimes I Don't Mind," a love ode to a dog ("I talk to you sometimes/Even though you never talk back"), just isn't sophisticated enough for enthusiasts of the rapid-fire juvenile jokes of "What's My Age Again." Meanwhile, the rest of the disc is classic one-joke-wonder filler, from the unfunny irony of "I Hate Everything," with the once-ubiquitous-now-effete ska-guitar scratch buried in its mix, to the hammy hardcore of "Reasons."

-- Nick Catucci