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Emma Pollock

It's difficult to tell whether former Delgado Emma Pollock is trying for tortured poet, Richard Swiftian swagger or if the Scot just wants to be the next Aimee Mann. Pollock's solo debut is plain and simple: easy-listening chick rock full of predictable structure and generic songwriting. Despite the album's forgettable nature, Pollock still masters that one small sonic filigree forgotten in recent years: the hook. Regardless of her unspectacular vocals and languorous lyrics, you'll find yourself humming the guttural chorus of "The Acid Test." Even the carnivalesque nature of opener "New Land" sticks, while the vulnerability of piano-tickler "Limbs" and self-confidence of "Adrenaline" whisper serenity and strength. True, they're little more than an echo, empty pop bouncing back from the far wall before disappearing completely. Pollock better find her own identity posthaste before she turns into Jewel. (2:35pm, Stage 1)