Sincerely, Black Lipstick is certifiable proof that an album of obviously derivative rock songs can still be thoroughly enjoyable. These Texans are still living out their VU-meets-indie-rock fantasies and sticking to a solid (albeit predictable) formula: keep the drums upbeat and movin', give the angular guitar jams plenty of room to roam, and have lead singer Phillip Niemeyer bust out a steady supply of atonal, sarcastic barbs. Black Lipstick succeed in each of these areas, and although Sincerely hits a couple of dry spells around the halfway point, complaining about an album this irreverently enjoyable is just nitpicking.

Opener "B.O.B. F.O.S.S.E.", with its pulsating bass and shout-along chorus, gets the album going in solid fashion -- and how could a song that name-checks both Fred Astaire and Bob Fosse not inspire some nerdy white-boy booty shakin'? Sincerely maintains this brisk, head-bobbin' pace, aided on multiple occasions by nimble guitar workouts that keep the loose, extended jams from becoming monotonous. The riffs are never as ornate as Television's or as enveloping as Sonic Youth's, but they achieve a more slackerly, less pretentious version of those bands' non-avant-garde moments. Moreover, the most essential factor in Black Lipstick's haphazard vibe is Niemeyer's vintage half-sung vocalizations. Although his off-key vocals sometimes drag, his tongue-in-cheek approach more than makes up for his middling singing ability. He even pulls off a few Malkmus-worthy lines, best demonstrated by "No Mercy": "I aim for the sack, no mercy / They're tires, I'm tacks / Stab their fronts while they watch their backs."

There's something inherently likable about Black Lipstick's ability to be more genial and less painfully self-aware than the acts that inspired them. Sincerely isn't gonna change the world, but that's not the point; Black Lipstick are just trying to get by with "one foot on the dancefloor, the other in the grave."