Neil Finn used to be an awful lot better at this pop music lark.

True, Finn and his former Crowded House colleagues always boasted an almighty amount of crud in their repertoire. But they also had gorgeous little pop tunes like ‘Fall At Your Feet’ that, while not exactly life-changing, at least passed the time in style while we waited for Justin to graduate from the Mickey Mouse Club.

Sadly, this album round, pop appears to have eaten itself chez Finn, to be replaced by the far more maudlin sound of two men staring at their wrinkles in the mirror and feeling an urge for a group-hug and some deep contemplation about life.

The brothers Finn tell us how much they depend on each other and how love makes them the luckiest men alive. They also reveal – and what pop act hasn’t over the years? – that God is, in fact, a woman. Thanks for that, boys. But if I’d been looking for some pearls of wisdom, I’d have put on a Johnny Cash record.

The music is just as resolutely, nay, teeth-grindingly, wholesome. There are some striking moments – ‘Anything Can Happen’ and ‘All The Colours’ impress – but the wealth of gentle guitar flourishes and subtle detail rather makes one lose the will to live after a while. Every song on this record has been dressed up ready for a night out, but the trouble is, plenty of them weren’t worth fussing over in the first place.

The word that keeps recurring, mantra-like, in the brain when presented with this album is ‘nice’. And, really, what could be duller than that?