Rick Springfield
"Shock/Denial/Anger/ Acceptance"
Gomer Records

It's easy to relegate Rick Springfield to the former-soap-star-pop-poseur bin. And sure, it's far from cool to say out loud that a 54-year-old rocker with a shag haircut (it's a shag, people, not a mullet!) is still worth listening to.

But the fact is, Springfield has been churning out meaty albums long since his mid-'80s commercial peak and the faded memory of his "Hard to Hold" film debacle. Although 1999's "Karma" contained only a few sparks, the next few years Springfield spent in Las Vegas' "EFX" show apparently gave him plenty of time to deal with the anger and other roller-coaster emotions overflowing here.

The album is named after the typical stages of grief and for good reason - these 17 songs are Springfield's catharsis. Never a particular happy guy (c'mon, even "Jessie's Girl" is a tad bitter), Springfield recites a litany of traumas over the pounding guitar crunch that is "My Depression" ("Prozac, Lithium, can never get enough of'em. Last wills, shrinks bills, sleeping pills, sex kills") and turns even more vitriolic in the bare-knuckled rocker, "Jesus Saves" ("You let me read your pretty poetry and I fell for your trailer park majesty. And I, when I said I'd die for you, I didn't mean for you to write the eulogy").

While most of the album slams harder than "Tao" or "Rock of Life," it does contain moments of pensivity, evidenced on the Elizabeth Smart-inspired "Angels of the Disappeared," which also, unfortunately, showcases how Springfield's husky voice is much better suited for double-fisted pop-rock songs than ballads.

But the biggest problem is that Springfield's name itself is a liability. The song attempting to break at radio, "Will I?" is a classic pop anthem that would probably be a huge hit if it were secretly released under another moniker, say, Jet or Maroon 5. But how many people will pay attention when they realize who it is? Sadly, not enough. B

-Richmond Times-Dispatch