Good Morning Revival (Sony/BMG)

Knee-jerk critical reaction to Good Charlotte would have you believe the band is the spawn of Satan himself, or at least the product of market forces and MTV. And there's a lot to revile about a group so hopelessly uncool it makes the Fray seem like the Fiery Furnaces. But over the course of four albums, the Maryland quintet has given credible voice to the sucking vortex of suburban angst and ennui.

However, in a climate of Panic! At the Discos and My Chemical Ro ­mances, the band seems to have sensed its hold on the youth is tenuous. Its response is Good Morning Revival, which mixes a self-aware sense of humour with an up-to-date dance-rock groove. "Dance Floor Anthem", with its swirling, strobe-ready chorus, is one of the better examples of this, although the unsteady and awkward "Victims of Love" comes on like a coked-up Duran Duran roadie at a Holiday Inn bar. The album's hangover song is the redemptive, desperate "The River", which has a convincing, morning-after-a-party-at-Marilyn-Manson's vibe. Having appealed to the masses through heart-on-sleeve-tattoo emotion as much as infectious pop-punk, Good Charlotte provides two such raise-your-cellphone moments: "Where Would We Be Now" and "March On".

But Good Morning Revival works best on tracks like the robotic, silly "Keep Your Hands Off My Girl", where the band sounds most unlike that which gave us teen anthems like "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous". And on the purely pop "Something Else", Good Charlotte suddenly morphs into Portland alt-rockers Everclear, right down to the poor-guy-dates-socialite odd-coupling of the lyrics. The group even tweaks its gloomy, teenage Tim Burton image in tracks like "All Black". It's hard to hate an act that admits, "I've never been much for weddings or anniversaries/But I go to a funeral if I'm invited any day of the week".