Slightly fewer than half the songs on Alpocalypse are reimaginings of pop songs of semi-recent vintage. The lead single, of course, parodies Gaga. Its message—that Lady Gaga’s outlandishness is all just a performance—is obvious, but at least it’s specifically targeted at Lady Gaga herself. (It’s not really clear why Al was always clowning on Michael Jacksons about eating.) Some other parodies on the album relate back thematically to the source material. “TMZ,” which parodies “You Belong To Me,” could be a commentary on Taylor Swift’s gossipy method on her latest, Speak Now. Then again, it’s also a strong pun for the song’s title, and that seems to be Al’s main criterion for whether a parody song’s worth writing.

Elsewhere, Al’s parody songs match up not at all thematically (“Another Tattoo”) or just very strangely. “Whatever You Like,” a parody of T.I.’s ode to capitalistic wooing “Whatever You Want,” is just mean. It literally just makes fun of poor people for nearly four minutes. On the one hand, it’s sort of a commentary on rap excess (if you want to call rappers merely “hood rich,” I guess) and the recent economic downturn. But the song is particularly nasty coming from a person who (in a podcast with Chuck Klosterman) begrudgingly cops to owning four houses. “Party in the CIA” is the song that most closely resembles satire, since it is ostensibly political. Then again, its humorous critique of waterboarding is now about four years stale.

The original compositions on Alpocalypse probably better show where Yankovic’s heart is at. (At least they’re not written from a primarily punning angle.) So what are we to make of “CNR,” a White Stripes-like stomper about Charles Nelson Reilly? For one, Al’s pop music touchstones are at least five years old (and broke up a few months ago). As for the titular CNR, it seems unlikely anyone under the age of forty—unless they’re a fan of the Match Game—would get the reference. The album also features a Doors pastiche commenting on how weird and wacky that Craigslist is; a tender piano ballad about how ringtones are a sign of capitalist excess (but owning four houses is… not?); and ends confusingly with a plea to stop forwarding “Weird Al” so much junky email.

I don’t want to sound too harsh, but the majority of Alpocalypse doesn’t belong on iTunes. It barely belongs on Al’s answering machine.

Worst New Music 38, or, F for Fail.