Someone who's never heard of Glenn Melia's St Christopher project would need only the slightest knowledge of mid-90's Brit Pop to figure Golden Blue fraudulent. Melia's latest record replicates the most banal of the "movement," unwisely choosing Suede's chafing glam posturing as a blueprint. Really, Suede? We're not yet so far removed from a time when Britpop was held in fair standing that hearkening back to Suede could possibly seem like a good idea to anyone but the ebbing few who still find Brett Anderson dreamy.

Imagine, then, the astonishment of learning that St Christopher has been recording for 17 years. Countless bands can rarely withstand a decade without stagnation; it feels like Melia has begun to decompose. Golden Blue is rarely short of uninspired drivel. It's masturbatory, absurdly melodramatic, and flawed to the point of disgust.

As if it's not enough that Melia's chosen to resurrect a genre already beaten to death by Oasis (of all people), he actually has the balls to come at us with blatant carbon copies of pre-existing songs. "The Devil from Nowhere" is a virtual replication of Suede's awful "The Beautiful Ones." Even more offending is "Chemical King," which thieves its lead guitar riff, tempo, and chords from Blur's "Chemical World." It's astounding that he actually used the word "chemical" in the title; if nothing else, this sort of mimicry at least demands an attempt to be disguised.

But the tastelessness doesn't stop there. Even worse the half-hearted, accessible guitar-pop ditties, is the coupling of Melia's voice and idiotic lyrics. On Golden Blue's opening track, he embarrassingly quavers, "Take me home to where the northwinds blow." I'd consider taking him up on his request if it meant he'd stay there, silent. "Old and in the Way" deviates a bit from the Britpop trash-picking to try on some 50's malt-shop rock 'n' roll with mean-spirited and insightless lyrics. The acoustic ballad, "Black Girl," is Melia at his absolute worst; all I can say for his inane chant of "Black girl/ Don't you know that you haunt me?/ Can't you see that you taunt me/ Somewhere that I have yet to go" is that it's just wrong.

"The Devil from Nowhere" includes our favorite signature of Britpop-- the mid-song, spoken interlude. One of the most hilarious of its kind, this monologue finds Melia rambling, "All at once/ He's a devil/ A devil from nowhere/ And they say he'll never change/ He'll never change/ He's a devil!/ The devil from nowhere!!!" The exclamation marks actually do little justice to Melia's unhinged frenzy. In "Weird Things," the self-described "phased" and "crazed" Melia makes himself out to be a quirky sort of lover who digs the wee little foibles in his lover that others tend to miss. Among the items on his list are the beloved's smile, looks, style, face, and grace. I believe this speaks for itself.

And even the songs that aren't immediately offensive, such as "Low," are forgettable and pedestrian. Golden Blue plays like a study of everything bad about Britpop, leaving us relieved by its absence. It's not a pointless reminder, per se, but it's plenty painful.

-Richard M. Juzwiak