I always cringe when I get a CD from British boy singers (even when they’re actually American). I never think I’m going to break open the next Beatles or Rolling Stones, instead, I’m terrified of another Oasis. You remember them - the pseudo-alternative, pseudo-intelligent, pseudo-fill-in-the-blanks band that ruined radio for seven months or so.

Obligatory British Villains is not Oasis. For one thing, there’s a woman in there, though her presence is hardly felt. For another, O.B.E. is light on pretentiousness. What’s left? Hooky, smooth, made-to-be-pop music.

The misspelled “Alright” opens the gig and sets the tone for the entire CD. The music is lush, every instrument is layered somehow to make it sound like it’s the lead. That’s hard to pull off without creating the cacophony of say, dueling lead guitars, but it happens and it works. Anywhere I feel a touch of electronica I feel warm and happy. But my happiness doesn’t last.

Robin Locksley writes and sings the songs. All the songs. All in the same tone. The freshness of the music, which is really wicked left alone, gets bogged down in his unrelenting comfort zone.

Still, some of these tunes are unforgivably catchy. I don’t really care for the lackluster vocals of “Garden,” yet this is the song I find myself humming hours later. And I hate it.

“I’ve gotta strange feeling/I’ve been here before …” opens the song “Remember,” and at this point in the CD, we’re all feeling that. By now Locksley’s voice is the monotonous drone of the obsessive/compulsive neighbor’s vacuum cleaner and I want to get one of those karaoke vocal extractors so I can listen to only the music.

The rest of the CD passes on, creating an annoyingl aural itch impossible to scratch. It’s sad. Oasis had no talent to waste, so who cared. Obligatory British Villains’ music is incredible and so I care.

But if you like a certain amount of predictability in your music, you might find this perfect. I’d recommend any of the songs, taken at a single dose. The full CD is an OD waiting to happen. Pick and choose at www.cdbaby.com/cd/obv or www.robinlocksley.com.

“The Curse” is aptly named. It describes 75 percent of this CD’s lyrics and pretty much sums up the way I felt after listening to it. I’m giving it the tag line: Music for misogynists who like their women to degrade themselves so they don’t have to.

I can’t find anything to recommend to listeners on this CD, unless you’re actually looking for something that makes the worst of Eminem and Lords of Acid sound tasteful and refined. I’m an LoF fan and they certainly tread the line, but as far as Stark goes I must quote the always point-on Marge Simpson, “You not only crossed the line, you threw up on it.”

The main point of the CD is apparently to list all the sexual positions known to humankind and every English synonym for male genitalia and those prostitutes who don’t make much folding money.

The anthem on “The Curse” seems to be “White Trash R&R Diva.” As if. Stark has a huge divide to cross before reaching trash status, much less the sleaziest derivation of the word “diva.”

I’m sad that singer/song writer Lani Ford wrote the majority of the most-vile lyrics for herself. It’s sad to me that this is her dream. I think she sold too much to get herself on this little disc. But that’s just my two cents. You can spend yours wherever you want, but I suggest you spend it elsewhere.