The strand of DNA that drives one to write about music must also contain the genetic coding which dictates that one must find immense emotional satisfaction in the music of the Jayhawks. As a result, you'll be hard pressed to find any journalist spill some negative ink over this band. The Jayhawks are a journalist's dream band. They write smart songs that leap over genre walls, they got seriously and publically fucked by a label, they don't get played on the radio, they feel as if they've been around forever, they've suffered a major line-up schism and, most importantly, the lead dude isn't all that handsome. Talk about checking each box.

The Jayhawks have always been successful at taking the alt.country paradigm and stretching it to include elements of sublime pop. In the past, when the group included Mark Olson, this meant killer CSN-style harmonies that would cut right to your spinal cord. The newest record, Smile, tries a number of new techniques.

"Smile" is produced by Bob Ezrin, responsible for the sound of Kiss' golden years, as well as Pink Floyd's "A Momentary Lapse of Reason," and Lou Reed's "How Do You Think It Feels?" His mark is felt on the first cut, the title track, as a lush orchestra rises in support of the melancholy melody, filling the void of vocal harmony in past album-opener "Blue" from "Tomorrow The Green Grass." Yes, one can think back to Peter Criss and "Beth." Luckily, the song is considerable less hokey. The Jayhawks are reaching here for Big Sound, employing psychedelic flanges and echo effects more than ever before. The song vaguely cribs Charlie Chaplin for maudlin lyrical content, but their pop roots force the whispered refrain of "chin-up, chin-up" to sound closer to Phil Spector "shoo-wops." Go know. It's an opening track filled with bombast, willed optimism, a million dollar movie ending. It's a great song.

But I like the old Jayhawks better.

I'm happy to report that "Smile," the title track, is the exception rather than the rule on the album. Perhaps creating work like that took up too much time and money.

The very next cut, "I'm Gonna Make You Love Me," goes 180 back to good old roots rock. It's followed by a heartbreaking "Lodi"-esque track "What Led Me To This Town." "Such a lazy afternoon/eight shades of grey and I can taste the rain" Gary Louris sings, waiting for the thunder of a fuzzy guitar riff. If one listens closely, one can hear little electric drum spits beneath the tambourines. It's so you don't fall in shock at the next cut.

Drum machines, and a synthesized beep open "Somewhere in Ohio." Shedding every bit of their country-derived skin, this power pop gem blazes away as if it were the latest thing from the UK. Hard rock drumming, shimmering (not jangly) guitars and a hooky melody (lots of ba-bops) make this a standout cut by any definition. Who would think the Jayhawks would ever come to this? It's no complaint, just a head-scratcher.

The album continues along this schizophrenic route. Many of the following tracks fit in with their old paradigm (there's some lap steel on here somewhere toward the middle) but then the boys dig into their pocket and whip out the Cheap Trick.

Allow me to be a boob and say that the overall effect on the album as a whole does not really work for me. But, individually, these songs are stellar. When I want to hear olde tyme Jayhawks, I find myself going straight to cuts like "A Break In The Coulds" or "Better Days." For Jayhawks-style power pop, "In My Wildest Dreams" or "Ohio." I place no higher premium on one or the other.

One idea that fails, I feel, is "Mr. Wilson." It is a country song on paper, but someone had the idea to give it an altrock drum beat, not electric, but distorted. It's unnecessary and distracting. Oh well. You gotta keep experimenting. This record also features "Life Floats By," a great roots-y fuck you song, the refrain of which goes: "In my mind, in my soul, I never really loved you!!" Over and over again. Cool.

If the Jayhawks didn't try to reach for the Big Sound, even I would eventually start pointing fingers. Bob Dylan is still striving to create new sounds, as "Time Out of Mind" confirms. Perhaps I'll learn to love this album even more because of its mistakes. It shows the thoughtfulness and professionalism we've all come to expect from the Jayhawks. And I'm eager to see what they try next.

And talk about cojones for naming your album "Smile." Brian Wilson fans know what I mean.