When Underworld released the impressive A Hundred Days Off in 2002, they proved they weren't going to crumble after producer Darren Emerson's departure.
Oblivion, which seems practically comatose by comparison, makes that album seems like a fluke. Their hard-driving and unique take on acid house, breakbeats and trance is mostly gone, as are the cleverly composed cut-and-paste vocal structures.
Instead, you get what sounds like Karl Hyde doing freestyle slam poetry overtop of dull beats on Ring Road. Crocodile starts off promising but then gives up and becomes a backdrop for a one-syllable nightclub with white sofas. If Underworld are finally showing their age, they could have done so more gracefully than this.