Cradlesong : Rob Thomas : Review : Rolling Stone

Rob Thomas will never, ever be cool. Thomas has been the large-lunged, chest-thumping voice of straight-down-the-middle pop rock since 1996, when he emerged at the helm of Matchbox Twenty. He writes big, blowzy songs about love and angst, occasionally sounds like he's trying to eat his microphone, and is the bearer of what may be the least appealing shag haircut in popular-music history. But there's no doubting that he's a powerful singer, and with his biggest hit — the ferociously cheesy Latin-rock Santana collabo "Smooth" — he proved that he can swing as well as bludgeon.

What's more, Thomas has a sense of humor about his place in the pantheon: The most recent Matchbox Twenty disc was titled Exile on Mainstream. In a post-everything musical era — in which old-fashioned Top 40 rock aesthetics have mostly migrated south to Nashville — Thomas' staking claim to the mainstream is almost an iconoclastic act.

Thomas' second solo album shows, not for the first time, that he may well be Phil Collins' heir: a talented, big-time pro with a fine voice and a finer way with hooks. Cradlesong is less eclectic, genrewise, than his 2005 release, Something to Be, which spiked the Matchbox-esque fare with dashes of Latin, funk and dance beats. This time, he's made a more straightforward modern-rock album, with a bit of country twang thrown in.

But there is plenty of unexpected texture to keep your ears engaged. (The production, by old Matchbox collaborator Matt Serletic, is sleek and seamless.) The album opener, "Her Diamonds," places its guitars and keyboards in front of a phalanx of African and taiko drums. The title track adds world-music flavors (bouzouki, oud, Portuguese guitar) to a ballad that is half lullaby, half ode to the pleasures of the simple life: "All our friends, they moved to Hollywood/But we ain't that desperate yet," Thomas sings.

The main attraction here, though, is the tunes. Thomas has always been an expert songwriter, but on his big Matchbox hits like "3 A.M." and "Bent," the charm of his melodies was buried beneath bluster: He was a vocal-mauler in the 1990s tradition, growling out every phrase as if he was trying to shred your stereo speakers. Now he's older and more easeful, less rock and more pop — but no less adept at the big money-shot chorus. The results are infectious. Songs like "Mockingbird," a propulsive farewell to a failed relationship, and the groovy, almost power-pop "Real World '09" prove that should Thomas care to hang up his microphone he could find well-paid work on Nashville's Music Row or writing tunes for pop starlets.

Cradlesong hits some bum notes. The album drags a bit as it progresses, and the centerpiece song, "Fire on the Mountain," is overly grandiose pomp rock, complete with crashing power chords and lyrics like "How do you drink when there's blood in the water?"

But — who'd have thunk it? — Thomas in 2009 is mostly very good company, a welcome presence long after what one would assume was his sell-by date. He's not unaware that he's a bit of a man out of time. "Guess I'm past my prime.../I'm overrated," he sings in "Wonderful." He's only half-right, though. Past his prime — perhaps. But, if anything, underrated.