Post Malone, “Austin.”

Post Malone might be the most important name in contemporary pop. Earlier this year, the tattooed rapper and singer broke the record for most ever diamond singles in the U.S. His unique brand of melodic rap, catchy pop hooks, and vibrato-laden vocals have prompted some to call his music genre-less. During a time when hip-hop is undergoing the most dramatic cross-pollination and experimentation we’ve ever seen, talking hip-hop, at some point, means talking Post Malone.

Say what you want, but the man knows how to write a Top 40 hit. He has 14 of them. His second album in two years, Austin, (titled for the name on his birth certificate, Austin Post) offers no features, which is uncharacteristic.

Posty is usually comfortable sharing the spotlight (and the party) with a host of collaborators from SZA to Doja Cat to Ye. With the focus solely on himself, Post Malone had the perfect opportunity for a personal, confessional album about the massive changes going on in his life, like having a child or winding down his party lifestyle. Combine that with his wizard-level knack for writing pop choruses, and the album should already be heading for triple-platinum status, right?

If only. Austin falls short of that beautiful opportunity and relies on the strength of a few singles and standout tracks to carry the album. Much like 2022’s Twelve Carat Toothache, the good songs shine with choruses that fans will find themselves singing after one or two listens. There are more diamonds on this album, but they’re still too few and far between on another bloated (18 songs) album. It leaves you to sift through musical filler to get to some wonderful pop songs.

Still, the album is a great entry point for listeners who’ve struggled to get into Post Malone in the past, because it sounds different from his previous work. And there are enough catchy choruses to pick out the songs that are special to put on a playlist for later.

Austin is an alt-rock album at its core. Post Malone has never been shy about his love for rock and it seems he’s made good on his promises of a rock album. It lets you know what kind of album it is from the first track.

The album opens with slow and somber acoustic guitar number “Don’t Understand.” Stripped down, there’s something that works really well about Posty’s natural voice, vibrato and guitar together. It transitions into the significantly more-produced “Something Real,” which lacks the impact of its predecessor but is still an all right song.

The previously released “Chemical” is fast-paced and danceable, with singalong verses and chorus. “Mourning” is similar but with lyrics and subject matter that are more melancholic and troubled. The slight edge to the track makes it transgressive enough. “Overdrive” might be the weakest of this bunch, but it’s still a heavy hitter. There’s something heartbreaking about the song’s constant refrain: “I’d do anything to be cool to you.”

Though not a single, “Green Thumb” is another highlight as a beautiful, stripped-down track that’s just Posty and his guitar again. His voice follows the melody he picks out on the guitar and the result is emotional and haunting.

But a great album cannot rely on singles alone. The rest of Austin is weighed down by 10 or so songs that either fail to stand out or simply pad the album to give the standout tracks greater sonic context.

More than anything else Post Malone has done, starting with Stoney, Austin is influenced by ’80s and ’90s alternative rock. Many songs make heavy use of synthesizers and acoustic guitars to form the backbone of the beat. The result is a lineup of tunes that blend together and slow down the middle of the album. These include “Novacandy,” “Too Cool to Die,” “Sign Me Up” and “Socialite.”

These bad habits culminate in “Speedometer,” whose opening sounds almost like a David Byrne song with its straightforward rock drumbeat and high-pitched synth melody.

Something about the lyrics seems off as well.

“I just bought a new Lamborghini/ That S.O.B. cost two-twenty-five,” he sings on “Speedometer.”

That line may work with the delivery of a larger-than-life hip-hop braggadocio, but on a soft rock song it falls flat.