As always, Carpenter has an expert way with ballads of betrayal or obsession (”I’ll be a slave to the beauty, but not to the truth” being a terrific example of psychological incorrectness). But, perhaps sensing this lovelorn ennui can be a collective drag, she tosses in less accomplished, more upbeat material like ”Maybe World,” full of self-help bromides banal enough to send you deeper into a midlife funk. Worst is the peppy ”This Is Me Leaving You,” a transparent remake of ”He Thinks He’ll Keep Her.” Stick with her slow, depressing stuff, and bring your Zoloft.
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