by Stephen Thomas ErlewineThe problem with kill-yr-audience records is that you often have to record a follow-up. Usually, that leaves two options -- either you make concessions to the audience you lost, or you continue to whittle down your remaining listeners. To their credit, the Boo Radleys do neither with Kingsize, the sequel to their self-consciously alienating C'Mon Kids. Unfortunately, they waffle between the two extremes, producing a directionless album that sounds like a mere shadow of the group. At the peak of their powers, circa Giant Steps, the Boos sounded gargantuan, spinning neo-psychedelic guitar lines filtered through postmodern, pop-art sensibilities. Although they strive to recapture that glorious sound, they fall flat throughout Kingsize, primarily because they sound self-conscious and awkward -- a problem that never plagued them before. That would have been bad enough, but Martin Carr has suffered a major songwriting slump, failing to write memorable pop songs or create convincing structures for sonic explorations. Considering that Carr and the Boos had so many songs at one point that they were effortlessly filling non-LP singles, EPs and B-sides, it's pretty shocking to hear how far they have fallen -- how they sound like a shell of themselves. It's disheartening, but after hearing Kingsize, there's little wonder why the group split a mere four months after its release.