On the Streets' third album, the conceit is that Mike Skinner's now a famous guy (and he indeed is in the UK--as he puts it, "I've sold 3 million and you've never heard of me"). So, instead of dissecting the stereotypes and prejudices of an average Joe, Skinner turns his keen eye for detail on himself, to his new life of easy drugs and easier girls, of trashing hotel rooms, and being bummed out when your record label does promotional stuff without telling you about it first. Sonically it's more polished and a tad faster, though the music's still stripped-down and tough, propelled by loud synth lines and minimal drums. Skinner's flow remains original and wonderfully sing-songy. And while it's cool to see him actually write about his current life instead of pretending he's still "street," the subject matter's a touch too similar to an anorexic debutante's diary entry to make for very compelling hip-hop. When he asks "How the hell am I supposed to be able to do a line in front of complete strangers/When I know they've all got camera[phone]s?," it's definitely tough to care too much, no matter how fun the music is. --Mike McGonigal