Steven Morrissey—although 50 years old and no longer bearing the sharp chin and product-heavy ’80s hairdo—continues to be exceptionlly prolific, having issued nine solo albums since the disbanding of The Smiths in 1987. “Swords,” the second Morrissey album released this year, is a compilation of 18 B-sides off singles from “You Are the Quarry” (2004), “Ringleader of the Tormentors” (2006), and last February’s “Years of Refusal.” Like those albums and unlike Morrissey’s earlier solo works, which parted little musically from The Smiths, “Swords” goes beyond jangling guitars and charmingly unstable vocal intonations, instead choosing to entertain other interests. And just as those albums were disappointing to those yearning for more of The Smiths or at least something exciting from their erstwhile frontman, “Swords” continues Morrissey’s downward spiral with an unwieldy collection of obvious throwaways.

In fact, the songs on “Swords” are so poor that the finest track is the one not penned by Morrissey. “Drive-In Saturday,” a live David Bowie cover, showcases Morrissey’s vocal talents even though it barely elaborates on the original. But with his bold, elongated proclamations, Morrissey—who once was the U.K. branch president of the New York Dolls fan club—at least does justice to his passion for ’70s glam-rock. Elsewhere, album closer “Because of My Poor Education” continues this trend, though in a less gratifying way, beginning with a retro melody on piano similar to an overblown version of Lou Reed’s glam-rock ballad “Satellite of Love.” Turgid drums further ruin the song, often slowing down with decorative thumps better suited for melodrama.

The rest of the songs vary in genre, but the overarching weakness of the album can be summarized in a single word: excessiveness. The opening track “Good Looking Man About Town” begins with a sharp electronic riff and falls into a disorderly mélange of bass-driven groove. “Ganglord” is dominated by incessant cymbals and mechanical echoing; underneath all the extras, the song is nothing but a piece of lackluster pop.

One of the tidier tracks is “Don’t Make Fun of Daddy’s Voice,” which first appeared as a B-side to the 2004 single “Let Me Love You.” Simple chord progressions on thick electric guitar begin the song and drop out during the verses, leaving a very simple bass line to take over. During the chorus, the guitar carries out one-noted solos with an inharmonious female voice in the back, creating a Pixies-esque mood. And yet, the song is so basic and predictable that it bears likeness to an edgy children’s ditty.

“My Life Is a Succession of People Saying Goodbye”—the track most recalling The Smiths with its jangly Johnny Marr guitar—highlights Morrissey’s idiosyncratic singing until a harp budges in and confuses the mood. The depressive lyrics hit a little too close to home, as Morrissey seems somewhat conscious of his own recent mediocrity: “At one time the future / Did stretch out before me / But now / It stretched behind.”

Even his grand forte as a lyricist has diminished. His Smiths lyrics had been naturally witty with quirky details scattered like confetti, but still managed to brush on the most sincere and melancholic topics like love and disappointment. These skills have persisted in his solo albums, although he has lost much of his wit and he occasionally comes off like an inarticulate confessional poet. In “The Never-Played Symphonies,” Morrissey sings, “You were one / You meant to be one / And you jumped into my face / And kissed me on the cheek / And then were gone.” This track, indicative of a prevalent flaw on “Swords,” reveals Morrissey scraping the barrel for ideas, at times even settling with utter triteness.

Stretched over two decades, Morrissey’s solo career has been a mix of disappointment and relief—disappointment because he failed to go beyond his work with The Smiths, relief because his music still bore some indications of talent that helped make The Smiths one of the greatest British bands of the 1980s. “Swords,” however, contains only the disappointing aspects, too disappointing to even make it to the studio albums. It seems as though Morrissey has employed every single instrument and producing effect to cover up the nauseating mediocrity of the songs. Instead, they do nothing but highlight it.