Along with the superior Beachwood Sparks, Acetone might constitute an L.A.-based psychedelic country-rock revival. The band's hard-bitten twang and lazy harmonies ride laid back grooves a la the Flying Burrito Brothers in their Gram Parsons-led heyday. In fact, Acetone seem steeped in all aspects of the late '60s and early '70s "California Sound," from Byrdmaniax to Wild Honey. But over the course of this, their fourth album, they sound closer to Morphine than on past outings, having staked out their own little territory in the slowcore annals. And what does that subgenre imply, if not indie rock easy listening?

Acetone manage to take enough twists and turns on their dusty trail to stave off outright boredom, and they certainly have a talent for doing as much as they can with a fairly limited formula. However, as York Blvd progresses, the album's dreamy torpor becomes stifling, and the songs, while never anything other than pleasant, fail to distinguish themselves from one another.

The first two tracks, "Things Are Gonna Be Alright" and "Wonderful World" manage to rise above their cliched titles. The former is one of the albums' best and most rocking tracks (though that still ain't much). Pianos, organs, and gentle waves of feedback and slide guitar weave through the album, complementing the trio's stripped-down sound. "19" displays some oddly compressed, fiery guitar work, and "Like I Told You" briefly surprises with its mechanical backing track before it morphs into the band's most straightforward country-based track. "It's a Lie" is the album's most upbeat number, but even that still doesn't sound much different from Being There-era Wilco.

Towards its latter half, York Blvd stretches out on a series of longer tracks which are by far the album's weakest. I fell asleep at this point the first time through, and I didn't catch much more the next few times. Laid back is one thing, but prostrate is another. Even though many better groups have trod this path before (Uncle Tupelo, for one), there's really nothing to hate here, and, as evidenced by some of their earlier tracks on the album, the group is capable of strong moments. In the end, though, Acetone's main failing is that they're never worthy of an endorsement more enthusiastic than "pretty good."

-D. Erik Kempke