As the leader of Canadian supergroup The New Pornographers, Carl “A.C.” Newman has been one of the most consistently inventive and thrilling songwriters of this decade. However, the peak of his career so far may well be his lesser-known 2004 solo record, “The Slow Wonder.” Featuring supremely catchy indie-pop stomps alongside more introspective tracks, it proved that Newman could write personal and meaningful music that didn’t simply fulfill the power-pop template so successfully adopted by The New Pornographers. The triumph of “The Slow Wonder,” then, could only arouse high hopes for Newman’s latest release, his second solo album, “Get Guilty.”

“Get Guilty,” though, is nothing like “The Slow Wonder.” Whereas the latter was a boldly experimental album that saw Newman embracing diverse instruments and song forms, the former is consistent from start to finish, seldom, if ever, breaking out of its comfort zone. In fact, “Get Guilty” is much more reminiscent of The New Pornographers’ most recent album, “Challengers.” That album’s power-pop feel (think “Pet Sounds” via Big Star) is continued on most of the new LP’s tracks, as is the focus on romantic themes.

“The Heartbreak Rides,” easily the best track on “Get Guilty,” could have been taken straight off of “Challengers.” The intricate melody is divine and the lyrics contain the stream of consciousness imagery that anyone familiar with Newman’s oeuvre will expect – “Pushing at the modern sunset to your window / Gestured with the plain-Jane hand, she said, ‘Let’s go.’” It’s a brilliant song and serves as a reminder of just how good Newman is at his job.

Frustratingly, not all of “Get Guilty” lives up to this high standard. Many tracks rely on the stop-start rhythms that characterized much of “Challengers,” making that album the least-loved of the New Pornographers’ output. “Thunderbolts” is a particularly disappointing example. The song provides none of the hooks Newman is known for, instead serving up a drone of piano chords and a phoned-in vocal performance. “Prophets” also goes nowhere, occasionally threatening to burst out into a glorious melody but instead settling for a chorus that is neither coherent nor interesting.

These tracks and others suffer from the album’s extremely poor production. Almost every song sounds flat, with the drumming particularly marginalized. Only “The Heartbreak Rides” offers any kind of percussive propulsion, another reason why that song stands so far above the mediocrity of the other tracks.

Despite these weaknesses, there are still some delights to be had on “Get Guilty.” Stately opener “There Are Maybe Ten or Twelve” is a classic Newman song, featuring lyrics that outline the intriguing ambiguity of much of his work – “There are maybe ten or twelve things I could teach you / After that, well, you’re on your own.” Closer “All of My Days and All of My Days Off” is beautifully direct and manages to remain effective despite the enormous amount of times Newman sings the song’s title. These highlights are best enjoyed on their own, though, as they tend to merge together with the weaker songs when not culled from the lot.

“Get Guilty” is not a bad album and might have been seen as a success for a lesser talent. Coming from as accomplished an artist as Newman, however, it can only be seen as a disappointment. “The Slow Wonder” suggested that Newman recognized no boundaries to his songwriting, but five years later he seems happy to constrain himself to the narrow territory he has already laid out. Hopefully when The New Pornographers reconvene to record their fifth album Newman will decide to once again take a few risks. Given his talent, it’s pretty much a certainty that Newman could pull them off.

—Staff writer Chris R. Kingston can be reached kingston@fas.harvard.edu.