The success last year of Wilson’s captivating album of standards, Blue Skies, undoubtedly created an audience with an appetite for more of the same. Unfortunately, the 11 originals on her latest album are repetitive and shallow: The melodies are as nebulous as poor improvisations, and the lyrics — all inspired by a science fiction conceit that never comes into focus — are doggerel. Wilson’s plaintive, chesty voice compels interest and respect, but it is the inventive solos, notably by saxophonist Steve Coleman, trumpeter Graham Haynes, and guitarist David Gilmore, that provide the real juice here. The less closely you pay attention, the better it sounds.

  • Music