What's that they say about number 13? It's unlucky, right? Right-o, buddy.

And what's that they say about major label debuts from former indie bands? Crap, right? Right. Well, potentially craptastic. The major label coming out is an even more daunting and calamitous step than the sophomore album. Screw up and you find yourself dumped and, like, playing the Movin' On stage. Ouch.

See, Elevator never had a chance. It's the major label first for the skinny-guys-with-shaggy-hair dance/punk combo Hot Hot Heat (a jump that's usually accompanied by bailing fans or at least the threat of that). And the formerly Sub Pop dudes had the dimwit idea to be like, "How's about we don't have a track 13?" Yes, Elevator skips from track 12 to track 14. Yeah, 'cause it's an elevator, get it, and some building's don't have 13th floors because of all that superstition stuff. Oh boy, what a wise move to call attention to your doomed existence.

I wanted to like Elevator because 2002's Make Up the Breakdown was neurotic, edgy, speedier than Jessie Spano and jumping with nimble lyrics about insecticide, pomegranate-spiked wine and being naked in the city (again). So things seemed promising.

Then I saw an advert for Elevator during, before and/or after an episode of The Ashlee Simpson Show (no shame; I love it).

MTV was giving me "The Leak" on some hip, hot new band that I'm pretty sure it ignored until the corporate-funded A&R dudes intervened.

So I streamed the entire album on my Gateway, clapped my hands a little to "Pickin' It Up," then cringed. It's a boring album.

Eh, not boringboring, but boring enough.

More boring than Make Up the Breakdown.

The problem is that Elevator plays it safe. It sounds, at best, like a sub-par OK Go, when I know Hot Hot Heat is capable of keeping pace with Franz Ferdinand (though definitely not winning that 100-meter dash to pop brilliance).

More spasticity please! More clever wordplay! More synth! How about fewer mid-tempo lemons like "Middle of Nowhere," which makes me simultaneously scowl and retch? Thank you. Love, Caralyn.

Elevator was produced by Dave Sardy, who's worked with Jet, The Walkmen and The Dandy Warhols (a lot), so I'm not sure what went wrong. Take a breather, though, because at least it didn't go completely wrong.

Elevator may be boring but, eh, it's catchy enough.

"Goodnight Goodnight" burrows into my head and makes it bounce without my permission; "You Owe Me an IOU" kind of reminds me of "Save Us S.O.S" if in name only; and the bridge and chorus of "Island of the Honest Man" just about redeem its tedious verses.

I've come to realize that Hot Hot Heat has turned into new wave for The OC crowd (after they've binged and purged on The Postal Service, and taken up Prozac, that is). So check out Elevator if that's you. You'll think it's swell.