"Don't mention the war." On one hand, it's probably a pretty difficult for White Town's Jyoti Mishra to follow the implications that stem from Don't Mention the War's title. He's an outspoken, ass-kicking leftie (check out the Republican-baiting tirades on his Bzangy Groink blog or the album's liner notes if you need proof) who can wield semiotics and conflict theory like John Henry swings a hammer.

By the same token, White Town's a pop band, always has and always was. Mishra, who writes and records every note on his latest, hit it big with "Your Woman" in '97, off his Women in Technology after Capitol Records picked it up from Parasol. While his stay in the charts and in the majors was as short as you can get with a bona fide hit under your belt, he hasn't let up off his love of pop song craft. Don't Mention the War picks up where he left off six years ago -- with Peek and Poke (Parasol) -- honing his idiosyncratic blend of bedroom and synth pop.

True to his word, Mishra doesn't mention the war -- though samples of street protests bookend the music on this album -- and, with the exception of "These Are the MPs," he largely sticks to personal-issue material throughout Don't Mention the War. And while he juggles six years' worth of personal issues on this album, it rarely sounds claustrophobically personal in that tawdry diarist-with-a-guitar way that's the hallmark of most singer/songwriters. Synth melodies cut through the gloom on "You Can't Make the World Go Away," while Mishra's reserved bedroom-pop delivery (think a Sarah Records tribute to New Order) doles out advice about avoiding the cycle of escapism. "The Straight Edge Atheist's Hymn" gives glimpse into Mishra's world, one without the emotional crutches of spirituality or intoxicants, as he swims through a cough-syrup sea of syrupy melodies and slow-motion programming. "Hold It In" is a dose of pop sunshine that's one part Beach Boys, two parts Pet Shop Boys and the tiniest smidgeon of Soft Boys, that, while about Mishra's weightlifting, stomach-rupturing injury, that's custom made to be a metaphor for every shy stoic out there. Mishra mulls a host of individual problems, but he's clever enough to strip out situational details and focus on emotion.