'Nightbird' better off erased

I hate admitting it, but Erasure has become as marginalized as Sting. Rather than crooning to world music/chakra/yoga enthusiasts, Vince Clarke and Andy Bell's sugary '80s synth ballads and dance numbers are listened to only by pop eccentrics and gay bar attendees; their new album Nightbird does very little to change this.\nLet me get two things straight: First, I love Erasure. Second, I love Erasure because I grew up in a Godforsaken desert without pop culture. If the hipster police aren't constantly whispering in your ear to remind you that the '80s sucked, it's very easy to like Erasure. Their songs are so gorgeously catchy and textured that you find yourself sucked into their heartfelt, candy-coated vortexes in little time. Nightbird has some above-par tracks like the moody-then-sunny "Here I Go Impossible Again" that continue their '90s trend of consistency. It's a bland consistency, though -- all of Erasure's releases since 1994's I Say I Say I Say have been decidedly more balanced and mature; however, they've lacked the vitality and resonance of the albums that made them famous.\nTo describe this album track-by-track is futile -- it's just another disc where Bell uses his indescribably powerful voice to sing songs that tepidly tread water. The opener "No Doubt" sounds like a combination of "Always" from I Say and "Am I Right" from 1991's Chorus. "Don't Say You Love Me" sounds melodically similar to "Rain" off of 1997's Cowboy. Nightbird and its very, very familiar material is nothing exciting. It's getting harder and harder for the duo to hide that there's little creative ground they haven't covered and milked exhaustively. Sure, the production is much more tight (courtesy of Goldfrapp and Kylie Minogue producer Tom Elmhurst), but that is merely icing on a bland, long-refrigerated cake.\nErasure should have stopped in 1991. They're clinging tenuously to their fans' long-withering nostalgia, and even my stilted desert sensibilities can't warm up to this album in the slightest.