But if the jilted step back and take a listen, frowns ought to give way to grins. Thomas is a talent to be reckoned with.
The Grammy-winning vocalist has upped the ante since his solo debut ("Something to Be"), which received mixed reviews and found the singer searching for an identity sans Matchbox, the hit-producing, A.O.R.-friendly act that leaped to multiplatinum status when it splashed down with 1996's "Yourself or Someone Like You."
The newly minted "Cradlesong" enjoys a certain relaxed, journeyman quality. Blending elements of percussive roots music like blues and country with both modern-day and classic rock gives the album a kind of rustic, roadhouse appeal, even with the occasional electronic squawk or beat enhancement present.
Taking in the whole of the disc is sort of like sitting in a buddy's basement while he hashes out a bunch of wily, hook-laden toe-tappers, only this particular pal happens to have a pretty colorful assemblage of instruments scattered about the floor.
(The album could playfully be dubbed "Rhythm of the Saints Lite," as the ghost of the Paul Simon staple occasionally goes bump in the night here.)
The genial, tribal-like sticks on wood and dissonant chimes that open "Her Diamonds" foreshadow only a sampling of what's to come throughout the "Cradlesong" experience, and Thomas' rich, warm vocals wrap you up like a blanket.
"Gasoline " marches to the beat of a different drum machine, using mild bursts of electronica to prop up a bubbly chorus that laments a taxing relationship, and "Give Me the Meltdown's" sing-along hooks and jangly guitars are sure to elicit clapping hands live.
"Mockingbird" is a prime example of Thomas' folksy observations on the trials of life, love and loss, with lyrics like, "You and me got lost somewhere, we can't move on and we can't stay here ... You and me tried everything and still that mockingbird won't sing."
While love lost or mangled beyond repair is the focus of a few tunes, Thomas' wordplay is generally more hopeful than dour, as evidenced by the cheerful and breezy bursts of sunshine provided by the spritely "Real World '09."
"Fire on the Mountain" is the disc's centerpiece, a militant, bare-bones homage to defiant revolutionary rock that evokes the seething urgency of early U2, and "Hard on You" might leave you wanting to be seaside with a drink in hand.
"Still Ain't Over You" is a little arid and predictable, but momentum is saved again by the sultry and seductive groove of "Natural."
Delicate guitar and longing vocals color the album's title track, in which Thomas croons: "Everybody's got their own opinion; Everybody's got a place where they belong, like a favorite song."
It's that sentiment that best sums up "Cradlesong." Thomas hasn't reinvented the wheel here, but he's released an earnest collection of tunes that celebrate relatable human traits and nuances.
In surveying today's overly glossy musical landscape, that's pretty refreshing.
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