Named after Nicaragua's radical Sandinista army, Frente debuted in 1994 with an album of light pop that was about as rebellious and risk-taking as canned salsa, with even fewer lasting effects. Their second album isn't quite as vacuous, but it still comes up as blank as a cat's stare.

Shape features singer Angie Hart's high, girlish lilt – a hybrid of Tori Amos, Juliana Hatfield and Melanie – and mediocre lyrics about communication breakdowns ("You're taking my silence as total compliance") and love gone wrong ("I love to think about the times before the lie"). Hart's vocals are graceful in spots, but any mood she sets is dashed by the meandering and directionless music, which is a hodgepodge of precious acoustic ballads, perky pop numbers and down-and-druggy songs a la "Jackie Blue."

Frente are clearly scrambling to answer questions about their musical identity, but at this point, who's really asking? (RS 740)

LORRAINE ALI