by Heather PharesFrank Black has never had a problem with being weird; when he led the Pixies to the outer limits of pop music in the '80s, he pioneered mixing bizarre lyrics about science fiction, sex, and religion with loud guitars. In its own way, his third solo album The Cult of Ray is his strangest album yet; it flirts with the ordinary. His previous solo albums sound liberated in their wideband weirdness, and flashes of Black's usual eccentricity pop up on songs like "The Marsist," "Men in Black," and "The Creature," but for the most part this album is strangely straightforward. There are three songs about moshing on The Cult of Ray, each employing the same tired, chugging, punk guitars that lesser artists have made their bread and butter for years. Even the ballads, such as "I Don't Want to Hurt You (Every Single Time)," sound watered-down and forced compared to some of the unique and personal love songs he's created over the years with the Pixies and on his own. While The Cult of Ray isn't a disaster, it's certainly a disappointment.