Wyclef Jean’s new album, “Carnival Vol. II: Memoirs of an Immigrant,” starts off in a dark place. In the intro, Jean tells us over the sound of a scratching pen that “a lot of things have changed; the whole world’s in panic.” Wyclef has consistently tried to take socially conscious hip-hop into the mainstream, a worthy cause.

This album’s no exception and it seems like he’s on a mission to change the world. But the messages Wyclef tackles prove too much. He comes off overwhelmed, musically and otherwise.

Clearly, Wyclef’s got a lot on his mind. He infuses even the danciest tracks with a social message. We hear about nuclear energy, immigration, globalization, suicide bombers, wire-tapping, and stem cell research.

On “Slow Down,” Wyclef’s soliloquy to the post-9/11 world, he sings, “I seen two birds / Crash into two New York giants.” The chorus is similarly desolate: “Where’s the hope gone? / Where’s the hope gone? / I see the whole world turn into a war zone.”

Jean’s answer to global violence is to strive for the creation of a global album. His version of world music, however, means cramming every conceivable genre into a single song.

“Welcome to the East” features hints of samba, reggae, and classical guitar, and even has a cameo from the Nation of Islam’s Louis Farrakhan, who plays violin. “Hollywood meets Bollywood (Immigration)” also introduces Spanish vocals to a dancehall beat.

Which is not to say these ethnic mishmashes aren’t sometimes great fun—they’re just all over the place. The 13-minute “Touch Your Button Carnival Jam” may actually sample the music of every continent, and that includes Antarctica.

Which brings us to Jean’s obsession with collaborators. Anytime an album is as chock-full of guest appearances as this one, you start to wonder about the strength of the artist behind the album. Wyclef’s always been big on collaboration, but this album takes that impulse to extremes.

Often, the biggest stars do the least for the songs. Serj Tankian of System of a Down opens up “Riot” with angsty screams and a guitar riff that recalls the work of his own band. When Tankian returns for some weak white rock star rapping, we wonder why Wyclef bothered.

Shakira appears on “King and Queen,” inspiring hope that the duo will recapture the “Hips Don’t Lie” magic, but her chorus disappoints. It’s devoid of rhythm, insipid and dull. Paul Simon’s weak vocals frankly ruin the otherwise promising “Fast Car.”

Without a doubt, the strongest parts of the album are when Wyclef sticks with his soft, introspective vocals and signature blend of hip-hop and rock. The album’s first single “Sweetest Girl (Dollar Bill),” featuring Akon and Lil’ Wayne, does justice to the Wu-Tang Clan’s “C.R.E.A.M,” which it samples. “Heaven’s in New York” is a moving tribute to Wyclef’s adopted city and is also, fittingly, a musical homecoming. If only the hodge-podge journey of the rest of the album was equally fulfilling.

“Memoirs of an Immigrant” is supposed to speak to the whole world. We’re all immigrants, all refugees, and Wyclef wants us all to get along.

Unfortunately, he also wants every single genre of music to co-exist on each of the album’s tracks. Social warrior though he may be, Wyclef can’t quite make it happen. His poignant frustration with the state of the world leads to touching insight at times, but it gets lost in the frantic cultural sampling of “Memoirs.” Wyclef told New York Magazine this fall that he sees the disc as something of a magnum opus.

“This album means so much to me—it’s like Bob Marley’s ‘Exodus’ or Marvin Gaye’s ‘What’s Going On,’” he said. No doubt we’re meant to read the “Outro”—just the sound of the pen scratching—as a symbol of finality. But there’s a lot left to be explained—the world’s too complicated to fit onto 14 tracks.