Hip–hop production god Timbaland oversaw Chris Cornell's third solo album, which begs a question: Can digital–age beats party successfully with rock–god howling? The answer: Only if good tunes are invited. Scream veers between drab–sleek and rock–dude soulful; Cornell's yowl never sounds at home — especially on the "bitch ain't a part of me!" chorus on the lead track. Timbo lays it on thick — piles of guitars, dramatic synths and percussion that at their best achieve a meticulous heaviness. With the exception of the taut "Ground Zero," Scream feels like it belongs in a time capsule, a strange mutation that could only have been born this decade.