Fall Out Boy rapidly became the poster boys of rocking emo after the release of debut 'Take This to Your Grave' - and deservedly so.

The album was charming, a blend of catchy pop melodies, combined with some hard-rocking tunes that marked the four-piece out as a bright star in an otherwise ailing scene.

Then came 'From Under the Cork Tree', another fine album, although hints of a stadium-rock mentality began emerging on the back of the Chicago band's success.

The cliched "difficult third album", 'Infinity On High' though was the first dip. FOB seemed to be wallowing in mid-tempo with less-than-strong melodies to fall back on (if you forgive the pun).

The band seemed to be becoming a single factory for rock and roll newbies, rather than shooting from the hip.

So it was with trepedation that this reviewer placed latest offering 'Folie A Deux' on the turntable.

However, 'Lullaby/Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes' is a promising start, harking back to happier days, with a snappy melody and trademark biting lyrics ("Perfect boys with their perfect lives, nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy").

A promising start indeed. Faultless - and much underrated guitar work are back at the fore along with a bigger emphasis on tempo rather than simple sentiment.

'I Don't Care' was a pre-album single, at once gimmicky and catchy, a definite niggler for the radio DJs to latch on to.

'She's My Winona' however, is a real return to form. Back storm the singalong backing vocals that have made FOB a live favourite in recent years, coupled with an upbeat and lively feel not heard on recent releases.

Then, we are reminded that FOB have never been a straight-ahead and simple band, with the grandstand chorus of 'America's Suitehearts' combined with an almost rockabilly feel of the verse providing a rather irritating slog - much-like hit single 'Sugar, We're Going Down'.

Massive single? Very possibly. Massively annoying? Definitely.

The slightly-irritating-yet-catchy theme continues in the shape of 'Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On a Bad Bet', with beefed up synths providing an eighties-filled verse and somewhat over-bearingly earnest chorus.

But it is catchy and after several listens is among the first to appear on the tip of your tongue. No wonder it was a single.

The (Shipped) Gold Standard however is a gem of a track.

From the initial stop-start guitar, the song has a naivety that possesses the charm and instinctive likeability so evident in early FOB - something distinctly lacking in the likes of '(Coffee's For Closers').

'What a Catch Donnie' is so achingly polished it could almost be the single for the winner of next year's X-Factor. It features cameos from the likes of Panic at The Disco, Elvis Costello and The Academy Is... singing lines from early FOB songs.

Yet rather than paying tribute to what has gone before and moving the band on, it almost embarrassingly exposes what we're missing. The shocking 'Hey Jude'-esque chant at the song's finale is cringe-worthy, which is sad, as the basic elements of the song are high in quality.

The latter tracks, '27' and in particular 'Tiffany Blews', seem to symbolise what has gone wrong with FOB.

Basics are there - this band can rock - but it is almost as if they don't really mean it. The melodies are right, the musicianship impressive at times, yet there is no real emotion to cling on to. And that was always the charm of Fall Out boy.

You could call them what you like, but not doubt their sharp wit and the integrity of their songs.

Maybe I'm being harsh, but 'Folie A Deux', while at times a real return to form, lacks the spark that made them special.

I won't go so far as to throw the line "Sometimes I wanna quit this all and become an accountant" back at them (although I just did, sic) but the sheen has definitely come off that shining star.

Fans of Fall Out Boy willl not be disappointed by this album, but fans of their early attitude may well be.

But if you should pick this album up, make sure you get the bonus track of the cover of live favourite 'Beat It' complete with the guitar twiddlings of John Mayer.

Paul Jones