Mike Hadreas’s career has been sneakily illustrious, following an articulate evolution. From intimate debut Learning to avant-garde surprise Ugly Season, Hadreas has delightfully disoriented with a warbling, fragile delivery, experiments in tempo, and an ever-shifting collage of sounds. Glory is the latest in Perfume Genius’ impressive string of albums, but it’s not as fresh with genre experiments. In ethos, it’s more of a showpiece, breaking off bits of the best of past efforts but with mixed results. (Compare the clogged “Clean Heart” to the liberated “Slip Away.”) To be sure, Glory has great moments. But its ambition as a magnum opus results in irony: At times, it seems to try too hard, at others, the band’s commitment to the little things vanishes. If Ugly Season was about nailing those two extremes, Glory is stuck in the middle.

It does occasionally move into new territory, with nods to folk-rock, a more prominent slot for Hadreas’s brilliant voice, and balladry. But the album lacks memorable riffs and solos, and the band’s loud ideas overpower Hadreas. Standout single “No Front Teeth” is an example, with its unshakeable folk-rock groove usurped by a grandiose chorus. There are strengths: It moves unpredictably like the shifting “Fool,” plucks along like the upbeat “Valley,” and straight up rocks like “Describe.” The guitar work is intricately plucked over and the distinct two-part structure—from hymnal to detonation—is structurally unique. The normally amorphous Aldous Harding, however, delivers a middling performance, and the chorus sounds crowded.

The part-funk, part-Americana lead single “It’s a Mirror” shares this tension. It catches fire immediately: “What do you get from the stretching horizon / That you’d leave me spiraling with no one to hold?” The refrain exhales twang, and the song takes off again. It’s a mesmerizing sequence, and it plays as a tantalizing windup for catharsis; the problem, again, is an overwrought chorus keeping things bottled up, resulting in a plodding aside instead of a soaring breakaway: “It’s a mirror, holy terror / Taking focus off the horizon / It’s a chorus reaching for us / Swarming locusts wherever you go.” This sonic launch stalls: “Mirror” lands short of the territory of Perfume Genius classics.

The core tension of Glory is the uneven dance between singer and band. “In a Row” points to missed potential in this dynamic. Like “No Front Teeth” and “It’s a Mirror,” “In a Row” promises a lot in the verse, this one more suspenseful and dark than the others. Hadreas sings, “This whole thing is so extra / so bizarre.” The operatic explosion of the chorus makes sense in this context, but there is no room for Hadreas’s lilting melodies or oscillating hums. Glory’s two most realized pieces find the band coherent, complementing Hadreas. “Me and Angel” is a simple love ballad, but it lacks the wit and irony packed into the band’s earlier minimalistic work—like the brilliant “Learning.” “Dion” is in similarly safe territory. It’s the fullest, smoothest piece on the record, walking proof of a band at work. Hadreas’s vocals soar over gentle piano progressions, deserving comparison to Rufus Wainwright. But like “Me and Angel,” it hides in a realm from which Hadreas typically insists on breaking away. A theme of Glory is that if these songs were more stripped-down, there might be more to them. Without vocals, “Full On” and “Hanging Out” would probably fit better on Ugly Season. On “Capezio,” Hadreas quivers over a trip-hop beat, and the song never fully reveals itself. “Left for Tomorrow” is an exception. Hadreas is soft, but slightly frenetic, sounding a bit like Ezra Koenig when he raps. The band glides along, subdued and sweet, only adding when necessary. It’s not a grand statement, but it works.

It isn’t out of step for Perfume Genius to aim big. Among the greats, he is as creative as Joanna Newsom, but more active; as prolific as Vampire Weekend, but more idiosyncratic; as daring as Animal Collective, but more consistent. Glory aims big, too, but its biggest struggle is finding the rightbalance—the band embellishes without effect and smothers what makes songs shine. A quieter approach would have been a louder statement.

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