Many gen-xers are starting to look in the mirror and see some graying hairs. In between working 50-hour weeks, hauling kids off to school and managing expanding waistlines, it's inevitable that some of their peers in the journalism world are relishing the return of Pearl Jam. After all, it just seems like it was a few years ago when these folks were taking hits off of the one-hitter pipe and skipping classical mythology course to play frisbee. But it's been more than a few years since Pearl Jam provided the summertime soundtrack for gen-x. More like 15 years.

The fact that Pearl Jam can remain vital almost a decade after Soundgarden called it quits should be enough to usher in their latest album. But for some reason, Pearl Jam is getting a ton of attention because their latest self-titled album is supposed to be their most rocking (read best) album since Vitalogy. But for longtime Pearl Jam fans, Pearl Jam is going to sound a lot like most of their other albums. Just for some reason, this is the year a lot of the music writers are taking notice.

Pearl Jam has always preferred the Neil Young way of recording: continue to do your own thing, keep recording consistent albums, but don't be afraid to risk a few artistic failures as long as your live shows remain stellar. And like Neil Young, Pearl Jam is capable of dropping near-classic albums in-between lackluster efforts (see 1999's extraordinary Yield). And with those albums come a few songs that are every bit as good as the songs each artist has recorded in their creative and commercial peak. For Neil Young, a great example of this was 1989's "Rocking In The Free World." For Pearl Jam, it's "World Wide Suicide."

One thing I'll give Pearl Jam – it's their most groove-oriented album since Vs. For those who have been waiting for Matt Cameron to fully come into his own in Pearl Jam, Pearl Jam is your reward. Like former drummer Jack Irons, Cameron pounds through songs like "Severed Hand" and the surfer-anthem song "Big Wave" to give the songs enough air for Stone Gossard and Mike McCready to form some great riffs and solos.

Theme-wise, Pearl Jam sounds like Eddie Vedder took some songwriting pointers from Bruce Springsteen during the 2004 campaign for John Kerry. "World Wide Suicide" and "Marker In The Sand" are both "state of the world" rockers. But on "Unemployable," Vedder personalizes a story of a father left out of the booming economy of this decade.

"Well, his wife and kid are sleeping but he's still awake / On his brain weighs the curse of thirty bills unpaid / Gets up, lights a cigarette he's grown to hate / Thinking if he can't sleep, how will he ever dream?" The song ends with Vedder trembling "Near to death, here to die, scared alive."

Vedder hasn't sounded this urgent and passionate in years. But even with this shot in the arm, Pearl Jam can't help but suffer from modern rock-its. It's an album that for all its pluses, doesn't add up to a truly great album that Pearl Jam is still capable of producing. Gone are the pretentious, loopy tossoffs like "Bugs" or the untitled interlude of Yield where the band sings in a high-pitched tone "We're all crazy and warped." What's left are songs that make you tap your dashboard, maybe even nod your head, but at the same time, you have a nagging feeling that a few months from now, none of these songs are going to stick with you.

Keep in mind this is coming off of three listens. And Pearl Jam certainly gets better with repeat listens. For these cynical times, it's odd that a band that landed on the cover of Time with the headline "All The Rage" releases an album in 2006 that requires listeners to drop their ironic guard for the wide-eyed optimism of songs like "Gone" and "Inside Job." They may have opted to play it safe for this go around, but Pearl Jam are still defiant in their own way.