Rob Dougan “Furious Angels” (Warner Bros.)

Compare to: Dave Gahan, Peter Gabriel, Brian Eno

Rating: 2

Do yourself a favor: Consult a tape recorder and record random noises — say, people walking or cars going by on the street. You could get really creative and run a lawnmower motor three inches from the microphone.

I don’t really need to be very specific, because basically, anything you would get on tape would be much better than anything you’re going to hear on Rob Dougan’s latest album, “Furious Angels.”

Dougan is the worst possible combination: A crap-rock singer by way of Michael Bolton trying desperately to mix hard-core grunge with elegant orchestration.

The music sounds like generic elevator music. Dougan’s single “Clubbed to Death” was used in “The Matrix Reloaded,” quite ineffectively at that, to accentuate action scenes. “The Rainbow Connection” would have serviced just as well.

The rock orchestra shtick has been used before: Live, a band you may remember circa the mid-1990s, had a firm grasp of how to do it right. When Dougan gets behind the wheel with the genre, he’s as drunk as a surly Dennis Franz on mescaline.

Someone thinks this guy is special: Warner Bros. released this album as an overlong two-disc CD, with the second disc filled solely with instrumental variations of the songs on the lyrically-banal first disc.

Dougan’s lyrics sting like salt rubbed into a wound. A cheap take-off of the Beatles or Bob Dylan, each song sounds more or less of a nursery rhyme — or a stanza or two scribbled on a table in the junior high library.

From the title track: “Like a sentence to death/ I’ve got no options left/ I’ve got nothing to show now/ I’m down on the ground/ I’ve got seconds to live/ An you can’t go now.”

It just doesn’t get much better than that.

Dougan’s music seems experimental at best, with a sound that is completely unoriginal and lyrics about as deep as a kiddy pool.

— Ryan Curell

The Willowz “The Willowz!” (Posh Boy)

Compare to: The Strokes, The Hives, The White Stripes

Rating: 6

In this self-titled album, The Willowz have created a collection of music that can only be described in one word — fast. The California-based trio have released a 20-minute long CD including quick and lively tunes ranging anywhere between a few seconds to a couple of minutes in length.

The Willowz’s style of music is a potpourri of garage rock, 1980s punk, 1960s rock and roll, soul and blues. All of these influences combine to create funky, energetic songs that unfortunately don’t satisfy me as a listener.

I have reached this conclusion for several reasons:

First of all, the songs were much too short. The first and last track on this CD are literally eight seconds long. To make up for the lack of substance on these two tracks, I expected most of the other tunes to at least span longer than two and a half minutes, which was not the case.

Secondly, the music really isn’t bad at all. This is why the amount of effort they have exerted in recording this album is utterly disappointing. For instance, track number seven, titled “I Wonder,” is an exceptional song that simply was not allowed to reach its full potential.

If The Willowz had attempted to lengthen and enhance their songs a little more, the product would have been much more successful.

Lastly, their music contains an unrefined quality similar to that of The White Stripes and The Strokes. However, The Willowz have taken this rawness too far.

Some of the songs, namely the eighth track titled “Something,” sound like they were recorded on a children’s tape recorder. I felt this quality took more away from their music than adding to it.

The problem encompassing this entire album is The Willowz’s tendency to simplify certain aspects of their music to the point of self-destruction. While listening to it, I constantly felt like I needed more substance than this album was willing to give.

— Annie Krumhardt

Powerman 5000 “Transform” (Dreamworks)

Compare to: Godsmack, AFI, Marilyn Manson

Rating: 5

The closet metal-head I am, I’ve always had a thing for Powerman 5000. I’ve always had high amounts of respect for them because they never fell victim to the pop rock junk being put out by n-metal.

Until “Transform.”

It’s not a horrible CD by any means. It still has Spider’s voice — easily distinguished from other n-metal lead singers. However, it’s fallen into the vast emptiness that is rock music today.

You’d think scrapping a nearly completed album, taking a year off and cancelling their tour at the last minute would give these guys enough time to produce a kick-ass album I can imagine moshing to it with some big , sweaty bald guy.

Instead, I see a 12-year-old jumping around his room in suburbia pretending to be “rock n’ roll.” I’m sorely disappointed.

Fortunately, there are good points to this album. The messages embedded in the album might just make it worth a listen. Powerman 5000 is trying to say something about society and the music industry around them.

Lyrics in songs such as “A is for Apathy” and “That’s Entertainment” try to make the same strong societal statements Rage Against the Machine did until their demise.

“A is for Apathy” is about the frustration and apathy that runs rampant in American society.

“Look at all the pop stars/ They think they’re in charge/ Lets see who’s/ The biggest whore” claims the track titled “That’s Entertainment.”

The whole song is kind of contradictory to me because it seems Powerman 5000 is trying to meld their unique sound and image into the brand of rock music of bands who are out for the money, not for the music.

The lyrics could make up for the disappointing sound in “Transform,” but albums need more than good lyrics to get by.

— P. Kim Bui

Jimmy Wayne “Jimmy Wayne” (Dreamworks)

Compare to: George Strait, Keith Urban, Lonestar

Rating: 4

With history spanning from an abusive, impoverished upbringing to not even knowing his biological father, you’d think Jimmy Wayne would have plenty to sing about.

The good news is he does. The bad news is you probably won’t care.

Though we’re not keen on the country music lingo, we’ve been around the block on the music scene — some things encompass all genres.

For instance, variety as they say, is the spice of life — and Jimmy Wayne seems to have the spice rack of a homeless orphan.

Wayne’s lyrics and sound just seem to run concurrent to every other country singer working today. For example, in the song “Just a Dream,” Wayne croons “I had a dream last night/ That you weren’t in my life/ It felt so real, that I/ Woke up reachin’ for you baby/ What would I do, if I ever lost you?”

What would be slightly more original is if Wayne had more depth to his lyrics. He comes off as a simpleton, molding himself into the stereotype that has skeptics like us disliking the genre all the more.

Utilizing depth to simplistic lyrics is what makes rockabilly singers like Bob Dylan fun to listen to. “Love and Theft,” Dylan’s 2001-released album, covers the same ground Wayne tries to — the trouble is one can believe Dylan’s rants and raves.

It’s too bad Wayne’s lyrics can’t sound more like the touching embrace of “After You”: “It’s almost like the hands of time haven’t moved/ Cause everywhere I look I see your memory/ Hanging ’round/ They ought to name this town after you.”

Even though they’re not the most original lyrics, at least moments like this feed into the novelty.

Wayne’s voice has a sweet melancholy tone. In his best moments, Wayne’s voice justifies the juggling moods of his album. From sad to lonely to happy and fun, his voice can cover a wide range of feelings.

Unfortunately, this horse should be put out to pasture.

— Ryan Curell & P. Kim Bui