Mazzy Star's debut album was an anomaly: an indie heartland record that eschewed the norms of 1990. No bolted-on dance beats, no up-for-it attitude, just sad, lonely, gentle music. But what stood out 23 years ago doesn't surprise now, when we've been through so many permutations of sad, lonely, gentle music springing from the same well. So familiar have Mazzy Star's devices become that their fourth album – Hope Sandoval's voice still smoky and subdued, David Roback's guitar still lazy and unshowy – summons comparisons you could never have imagined. Blimey, one occasionally thinks, this is a bit Norah Jones. The best moments come when the palette expands: the perfectly judged and unexpected harpsichord on Sparrow, the beautiful organ of Into the Kingdom. On the other hand, you get the modal folk-blues of Spoon, whose six minutes last an awfully long time. The unvarying mood can get a little tiring.