Simple Plan's Still Not Getting Any, review #1:

Stress kills.

And these are stressful times; in between picking out a perfect Halloween costume (I was Kris Kross, for, like, a minute), mailing in your absentee ballot and not studying for your midterms, you've had a lot on your mind. Good thing there's Simple Plan.

Like a gentle desert breeze on a warm autumn morning (or something), Simple Plan keeps things light, and I respect them for that.

Still Not Getting Any may be little more than a teenage symphony to food courts, but it knows full well how fluffy and insignificant it is, and that's why it works.

Catchy guitar riffs, whiny but inoffensive vocals, songs about breakups and makeups: These are Simple Plan's stock and trade.

It may not be the kick in the pants rock 'n' roll needs, but Still Not Getting Any won't occupy any more of your mental energy than breathing, and sometimes that's sort of nice.

Simple Plan's Still Not Getting Any, review #2:

Actually, when you listen to Simple Plan, there's some pretty heavy stuff going on. Provided you're 13.

While there's no denying Simple Plan's ability to write debilitating-yet-hooky pop-punk tunes (sing "Addicted"; just sing it right now, wherever you are, you know you want to), they're about as weighty as cardboard.

"You don't know what it's like when nothing feels all right," singer Pierre Bouvier moans in "Welcome to My Life," and you get the impression he's really proud of penning that particular heartstring-puller.

The lyrics throughout Still Not Getting Any aren't quite up to par with the stuff in your high school's lit mag, and the music is the same kind of two-chord punk-lite nonsense every 15-year-old with 10 minutes and a Stratocaster is capable of.

I can't hate on "Crazy," a song about female body image and other youthful woes, because its heart is in the right place, but I'm happy to hate on everything else about Still Not Getting Any.

This is what would happen if your little brother's band got big all of a sudden. Scary stuff.

Simple Plan's Still Not Getting Any, review #3 (the real one):

More than anything, I am jealous of Simple Plan. Young, rich, adored by the ladies, with 'round-the-clock access to virtually any snack cake ever invented, those boys lead the life I can only dream of. They get to be rock stars without putting in the work. Sounds good to me.

But if I got to ride around on a tour bus 10 months out of the year with nothing to do but play Playstation and strum my guitar (sounds like my roommate), I hope I'd have something more interesting to say than "I promise I won't let you down if you take my hand tonight."

What about the crazed groupies, Simple Plan, the tales of women and wine and that chance meeting with Slash backstage at the Billboard Music Awards? Why can't you write about that? What's with all this eighth-grade, first-crush stuff?

And then I remember something. This is a band whose first hit single was "I'm Just a Kid." A band who perennial minor and punk kryptonite Mary-Kate Olsen spends the entirety of New York Minute (yeah, I saw it; it's got Andy Richter!) trying to track down. A band whose work is featured prominently on the Scooby-Doo 2 soundtrack.

Simple Plan, then, is Raffi.

You know, for the kids!

That's my review, and I'm sticking to it.