Here's the good news: Seven Mary Three are no longer just Pearl Jam clones -- they've moved on to aping Bob Dylan, R.E.M. and even Joe Cocker. Now, the bad news: Their increased range only proves the band can drain the vitality from any genre.

\\For all of their musical lurch and singer Jason Ross' energetic vocals, Seven Mary Three's show at the Troubadour never rose above gesture -- and hollow gesture at that. They're a Cliffs Notes version of the alternative canon; a Reader's Digest take on Pearl Jam and Nirvana's music that lacks the passion and meaning Eddie Vedder and Kurt Cobain bring to their songs. For all their lyrical examinations of angst, the band conveyed almost nothing in the way of emotion during its 90-minute set.

\\Although Seven Mary Three's performance at the officially sold-out but surprisingly roomy club was competent -- the band members hit all the right marks at all the right times -- they also failed to expand on the grunge-by-numbers sound of "American Standard" and their new album, "RockCrown." Except for the fact that Ross looks incongruously like the Lovin' Spoonful frontman John Sebastian, the band could easily pass for Matchbox 20, Dishwalla or any of the other "mallternative" acts that have parlayed the grunge revolution into a boring new order dedicated to the proposition that everyone's angst is created equal. They're so insubstantial they don't even make much of an impression playing a small club; their music almost evaporates on contact.

\\Seven Mary Three's only claim to a saving grace is that they're utterly oblivious to their own banality and hence bring their lyrical cliches to life onstage with an earnestness that's almost touching. Still, such energy would be better spent conveying music t