Two years ago, Alien Ant Farm almost made Michael Jackson cool again, moonwalking onto the charts with a high-revved cover of Jacko’s late-’80s hit “Smooth Criminal.” They owe their record deal to Papa Roach, but these four Southern Californians have more in common with Sugar Ray on the puppy-dog fringe of the modern-rock spectrum: They’re pop scavengers not averse to trying anything once.

truANT, an album with a title nearly as clever as that of its million-selling predecessor, ANThology, is AAF’s modest bid to become at least two-hit wonders. Hiring as producers Robert and Dean DeLeo, the semi-anonymous riffmasters in Stone Temple Pilots, makes sense: The DeLeos have made a career of highlighting hooks. With its south-of-the-border horns, “Tia Lupe” has a Latin feel Ricky Martin might covet. “Never Meant” rides a reggae groove so breezy it even has wind chimes. And “Glow” bounces despite its unplugged format: acoustic guitar, hand claps and percussion that swings rather than sledgehammers. AAF are much less successful when they strap on the Bigfoot guitars and throw their 98-pound weight around (“S.S. Recognize,” “Drifting Apart,” “Goodbye”).

Singer Dryden Mitchell comes off as a noodle-soft Everyman, the kind of guy who empathizes with his girlfriend because “she don’t like a life with a rock & roll singer.” In “Hope,” he aims for some “Billie Jean”–style pop paranoia but doesn’t have the personality to pull it off. Over acoustic guitars and swooning strings, he croons that “someone I thought was a friend to me has gone and married my wife.” Alien Ant Farm’s songs may be catchy, but their wishy-washy personality makes it hard to care.