Spain's prime indie rock darlings, with more domestic awards and "best ever" titles than they probably know what to do with, Vetusta Morla come across as skilled but elusively unimportant on Mapas.

There is no formal fault with the band, though -- the accolades didn't pop up from nowhere, as Vetusta Morla use a standard rock setup inventively enough to qualify as pros of a high caliber: the short psychedelic break in an otherwise perfectly Interpol-styled title track alone attests to that.

There are more delicious treats like that scattered throughout, from the intricate rhythm patterns of "En el Río" to the subdued but gruff guitar buzz made to serve the elegant -- almost elegiac -- "Boca en la Tierra." Mapas is less diverse mood-wise, however: Vetusta Morla are obviously at their most comfortable when mixing melodrama and melancholy, but staying upbeat enough to keep on the pop/rock side.

And perhaps it's this reluctance to push beyond self-imposed mainstream limits, or maybe just an overdose of glossy production, but in any case, the music -- while nice and competent -- is completely undemanding: the perfect background album that would never distract a sophisticated indie lover from chores it accompanies with the urge to mosh, cry, dance, fight corporate evil, or do whatever else good pop does.

The best songs show it wasn't intentional -- on "Los Días Raros," for example, Vetusta Morla almost match the nerve-racking drone of Twilight Sad, and on the Coldplay-inspired "Canción de Vuelta," the bandmembers, for once, wear their real influences on their sleeves.

While also glossy and over-produced, however, Chris Martin and company know how to write a gripping, inspired song -- which is the only thing that Mapas could use more of to be a real indie rock sensation.