Broken Bells’ second LP has all the elements of grooving dance music, but the album plays out like a soothing, almost wearying comedown — this is a true post-party album, literally what you listen to after the disco.

Four years after the band’s playful self-titled debut, the collaboration between producer Brian Burton (Danger Mouse), who has worked with artists such as Beck and The Black Keys, and James Mercer, frontman of the popular indie band The Shins, continues with After the Disco. The new album is less like the mellow electronics-infused hipster alt-rock of its predecessor and more of an ‘80s homage, though the stylistic differences between the two records is, unfortunately, minimal.

Every song on this album has the potential to be a single, and while points will always be awarded for consistency, this project is just a bit too clean, calculated and safe for its own good. As the sound reaches back to the ‘80s, there’s just not enough soul to pay respect to the style it imitates. 

That being said, After the Disco is effortlessly listenable, and, because it doesn’t quite warrant unbroken attention, it makes for the best background music around. What worked on the duo’s debut album — the shimmering synths, Danger Mouse’s insistent beats and Mercer’s pleasantly simple vocal melodies — is still present here, particularly on the album’s indulgently long opening track “Perfect World,” but sadly there are no surefire highlights like “The Ghost Inside” or “October.”

Many other tracks harken back to the amusing pomp of music as it existed three decades ago, successfully and sometimes less so — the choir-heavy choruses of “Leave It Alone” and “The Changing Lights” are a charming trick, but while the former scores with church-gospel sensibilities and dramatic strings, the latter is repetitive and easily the most disposable track of the 11. However, on “Holding on for Life,” arguably the standout track, these styles are utilized to their full, corny potential. 

Mercer, despite delivering sweet vocals, is rather inconsistent in terms of the quality of his lyrics. Many are forgettable — just the chorus of the very first song features the less-than-inspired line, “I thought love would always find a way, but I know better now” — though on several tracks he proves his capability to be clever without being cutesy or trying too hard. 

The closing song, “The Remains of Rock and Roll,” features his best lyrics on the album, eloquently describing the path to paradise where “suddenly earth is far below,” as Mercer declares, “I’m off to the promised land if anyone needs a ride, it’s a small car but we’ll fit inside if we leave our bags behind.”

Sure, if it isn’t broken why bother fixing it, but despite the success Mercer and Burton have in capitalizing on a proven formula, as well as infusing some nostalgic tastes, After the Disco is a little too familiar and too often do adjacent tracks bleed helplessly into each other. 

Mercer and Burton have enormous talent, and it shows, but their limits feel untested. It’s easy to shimmy to the infectious title track, as Mercer in pleading falsetto wonders, “How did I get in this winding maze of love?” The sounds might be familiar, but we will still modestly tap our toes and bob our heads for a while after the disco is over.