A particularly snide tenet of rock criticism says you can judge an album not by its cover but by the titles of its songs. Brotherhood is textbook proof of this theory, featuring such paeans to original thought as ”Dangerous,” ”Our Love,” and ”Excited.” In this case, the uninspired titles are entirely appropriate. This is corporate rock as generic as it comes, all pumped-up guitars and hoary synthesizers that try to sound like real horns. ”Cycles,” the band’s 1989 comeback after a six-year breakup, at least re-created some of their old chunka-chunka biker-rock grooves. Here there’s barely a hint of individuality — except in ”Rollin’ On,” a dangle-your-feet-in-the-river-and-nod-along ditty that revives their ”Listen to the Music” guitar lick. Otherwise, Brotherhood sounds like music made to meet the mortgage and alimony payments and whatever else aging rock stars must cope with as their glory days recede further into the distance. Let’s hope the album accomplishes that purpose, because it serves no other. D

  • Music