Oh! Gravity only OK

Switchfoot's Oh! Gravity is a frustrating album. Beyond being wildly uneven, it seems like the product of a Bizarro World in which experimental is mainstream and mainstream experimental. Just as the complaint against some of the more "out-there" indie acts (say, the Fiery Furnaces or Animal Collective) is that they alternate between pop perfection and artsy hooey, in Oh! Gravity, Switchfoot alternates between tracks of shockingly good garage rock/pop-punk and bland, by-the-numbers post-grunge dross. Perhaps, perched, one on each of singer/guitarist/chief songwriter Jonathan Foreman's shoulders, whispering in his ears, are a tiny Scott Stapp and Julian Casablancas (the Is This It? version, that is). Indeed, rarely will you hear an album so torn between rock good and rock evil. Thus, there's only one way to break it down:\n- Paradise: I must confess, based on my previous exposure to Switchfoot, I did not have high expectations. Quasi-Christian, adult alternative mainstream rockers who got their big break via the Mandy Moore film, "A Walk To Remember"? Oh, hell. But then I heard the first two songs. The title track, "Oh! Gravity," and "American Dream" are great, energetic, snotty, hooky pop-punk ditties true to the Buzzcocks' tradition. Then, later, Switchfoot unleashes their inner 'Stones in the terrifically fun ode to the frustrations of 21st century romance, "Amateur Lovers."\n- Purgatory: Being the realm of tracks that are satisfying, if not superb. Best of these is the slightly sappy, but nonetheless touching elegy "Yesterdays." Next are the better-than average, but contrived stabs at U2/Foo Fighters arena rock, "Awakening" and "Burn out Bright." Then a brave, but flawed experiment: the Eels-esque "4:12."\n- The Pit: Reigning in darkness are the awful "Dirty Second Hands" (imagine emo-screamo choruses grafted to the retro-blues of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's Howl), "Circles" and "Head Over Heels" (both examples of the Creed formula: sensitive-guy vocals plus slow, heavy, loud grunge instrumentals; standard quiet-loud-quiet-loud dynamic). Cringing in the corners: the dull, didactic tale of satanic temptation "Faust, Midas And Myself" and the clumsy, meandering, baroque ballad "Let Your Love Be Strong."\nPerhaps it's wishful thinking, but this album's schizophrenic nature gives me the impression of a band (or band members) dissatisfied with the strictures of lowest-common-denominator rock. Could something better be in their future? For now, though, Oh! Gravity represents just the sort of album that iTunes was made for: The type where you can buy three tracks and leave the rest.