CD reviews: Rod Stewart, Flaming Lips

POP/ROCK

Rod Stewart, "Soulbook" (J)

Since 2002, Stewart has been releasing albums of tried-and-true songs -- four "American Songbook" albums of Tin Pan Alley standards, a collection of rock oldies and now "Soulbook": 1960s and '70s hits from Sam Cooke, Jackie Wilson and Motown and Philadelphia International Records. His new versions are respectful and careful, with his voice recorded in close-up. Compared with the originals, they are just about joyless.

When the producers Steve Tyrell and Steve Jordan reimagine the songs, they slow things down. The opening of "The Same Old Song" frames the album as nostalgia; its first minute sets aside the Four Tops hit for a piano-and-guitar ballad as Stewart calls himself "a sentimental fool," before the Motown drumbeat kicks in. "Tracks of My Tears" gets a big string-section buildup and a modest harmony vocal from Smokey Robinson.

But most of the arrangements emulate the old hits. Stewart sings as if he has long considered every phrase. In a couple of gospel-rooted songs -- "Love Train" and "(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher" -- Stewart loosens up. Mary J. Blige brings some swooping spontaneity to "You Make Me Feel Brand New," and Stevie Wonder plays a puckish harmonica solo on "My Cherie Amour." Stewart could have made a different album: resurrecting more obscure oldies, polishing them less and risking more. But that would have traded soul nostalgia for soul.

JON PARELES, NEW YORK TIMES

The Flaming Lips, "Embryonic" (Warner Bros.)

"We stand before you not knowing what we have done," Wayne Coyne says in the press notes announcing the Flaming Lips' 12th full-length and first double album. It's hard to imagine anyone else making sense of it, either.

"Embryonic" floats and bubbles over the course of 18 tracks (two of which feature the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' Karen O; another, the great "Worm Mountain," stars MGMT), but true to title, it's mostly formless. That was Coyne and the Lips' intention, apparently -- to tap into the flow and forget the destination -- but atmosphere isn't one of the band's assets. "Embryonic" is a series of forgettable soundscapes ("Sagittarius Silver Announcement") with the occasional burst of song life ("Silver Trembling Hands"). And no, things wouldn't have been any better if it all had been boiled down to one disc. If anything, "Embryonic" needs more space to unfold; give it an attic, not a shelf in the closet. It's still true: No one makes records like the Flaming Lips. If they're anything like "Embryonic," who wants to?

MICHAEL POLLOCK, PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER