of insight. Now he's a man consumed by slow regret, a dreamer who actually broods over things like the end of the space race. The ballads that dominate William Bloke are outlets for this bitterness. Riffing through crumbling relationships and dour socioeconomic indicators, Bragg offers predictable melodies that rarely arrive at any musical or emotional resonance. Returning to the subject of one of his best songs, "Valentine's Day Is Over," from his 1988 masterpiece, Workers Playtime, Bragg sings the dim sequel, "The Fourteenth of February," with an overweening earnestness and a hint of desperation, sounding like a shell of his former self.

There are just two opportunities to hear Bragg have any fun here. "Upfield," a riveting blast of horn-fueled power pop, is the only song on William Bloke to express an optimistic view of the future. The funky New Orleans-flavored "Goal-hanger," a profile of a soccer-loving rogue, allows Bragg to do something he's unable to do elsewhere on William Bloke: comment on a craven capitalist society without turning every line into a harangue. (RS 743)

TOM MOON