CD REVIEWS POP/ROCK

The Pretenders, "Break Up the Concrete" (Shangri-La)

Pretenders fans with high expectations for the group's first studio album in six years will be sorely disappointed: "Break Up the Concrete" is nothing more than singer Chrissie Hynde sowing her rockabilly oats at age 57. There's no hint of the songwriting mastery of standards such as "Brass in Pocket" or "My City Was Gone." Instead, we get stripped-down garage guitars, watered-down punk attitude and plenty of predictable chord progressions.

Could Hynde's choice of drummer Jim Keltner over Pretenders mainstay Martin Chambers have influenced the album's direction? Keltner made his name partly from his work on solo recordings by George Harrison, John Lennon and Ringo Starr. On "The Nothing Maker," Hynde's limp, acoustic-Americana take on the Beatles' "Nowhere Man," she purrs nasally overtop a weepy steel guitar. And the slow, whiskey-bar blues number "Don't Lose Faith in Me" blends a typically derivative Lenny Kravitz chord progression with the raw, sloppy power of the Fab Four's "Yer Blues." Hynde is clearly having fun -- and trying. But her energetic, staccato vocals are unable to lift the title track or "Don't Cut Your Hair."

"Break Up the Concrete" is full of country-tearjerker hope and regret, from the sweet, R.E.M.-style midtempo ballad "Love's a Mystery" to the meandering "The Last Ride" to the melancholy thank-you note of "You Didn't Have To." But the album suffers from a lack of humor, insight and melodic heft.

MICHAEL HAMERSLY, Miami Herald

R&B

Jazmine Sullivan, "Fearless" (J)

Love is funny, and it makes you do funny things. Need proof? It's all over the debut album by this young R&B singer. Take "Bust Your Windows," in which Sullivan expresses her feelings with a crowbar. It's a stellar revenge tune, as sassy and unexpected as Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats," and an indicator that unlike most soul divas, Sullivan cuts her misery with a dash of whimsy. Her sense of humor is her best asset. She doesn't have a huge, imposing voice, but she's versatile, dabbling in jazz and reggae phrasings with ease.

Sometimes, though, because of strong modern-yet-retro production, Sullivan disappears a bit. But she's invigorated when her feelings catch her off-guard. "In Love With Another Man," in which she tells her boyfriend she needs to leave him, is the plainest song here, both musically and lyrically, and also the best. On a clever trifle called "Switch!" she agrees to a date with a stranger and then falls for his best friend; her attempts at smooth-talking her way out of the mess are comic and honest. But "One Night Stand" is the real surprise.

JON CARAMANICA, NEW YORK TIMES