Track one, album one: Time To Pretend ("Let's make some music, make some money, find some models for wives") ... and for some listeners, MGMT never got better than this. Others reckoned Kids was the hippy anthem for a new generation and that Oracular Spectacular was the best album of 2007. I gave them the benefit of the doubt on follow-up, Congratulations, finding hidden depths within its psychedelic swashes. Their latest record, however, is the sound of the Emperor's New Clothes finally dropping away, revealing Andrew VanWyngarden and Benjamin Goldwasser without a stitch of songwriting talent to their names and only a dubby gauze to wrap up in. Even Dave Fridmann's studio wizardry can't save them: they've morphed into a lazy version of The Flaming Lips without the charisma and tunes. The new album is self-titled in a conscious attempt to make MGMT's stamp more dominant than that of their major-label bosses. If that's the aim, they've succeeded: mainstream hangers-on will fall by the wayside, with only bloody-minded fans left for the ride.